Two years ago I noted that George Orwell had started a blog. Or, rather, Orwell’s diaries began to be posted, day by day, online. I liked the idea at first, but after a while I drifted away. The initial entries came from a relatively quiet time in Orwell’s life, dealing with stuff like how many eggs he got from his chickens on a given day.
But there’s nothing like a war to make life all too interesting:
It is impossible even yet to decide what to do in the case of German conquest of England. The one thing I will not do is to clear out, at any rate not further than Ireland, supposing that to be feasible. If the fleet is intact and it appears that the war is to be continued from America and the Dominions, then one must remain alive if possible, if necessary in the concentration camp. If the U.S.A is going to submit to conquest as well, there is nothing for it but to die fighting, but one must above all die fighting and have the satisfaction of killing somebody else first.