A Clockwork Orange: The Rise of Alex.
Inmate #4879: DeLarge, Alexander.
Age: 14 years.
Charges: Assault Occasioning Grievous Bodily Harm. Petty Theft/Shoplifting.
Sentence: Two Years, State Reformatory School #81 Linear North.
Time Served: One Year.
Department of Correction Officer: P. R. Deltoid.
Recommendations on inmate #4879 re Probationary Hearing.
Attachment A: Excerpt from pre-probationary Psychological Assessment by supervising state psychiatrist Dr. Stanley Burgess. Due to the defendants status as a minor he is referred to throughout this report as A - 4879.
"A - 4879 is an intelligent, self confident, loquacious and eloquent adolescent, although rebellious and slightly arrogant, he believes himself far superior mentally to the various authority figures in his life, parents, teachers, the police, the church and so on. A - 4879's family situation is stable, his parents are both gainfully employed, productive members of society, although according to A - 4879 the mother is habituated to sleeping pills and sedatives and the father is an alcoholic. (There was no mention of this in pre-sentencing reports).
A - 4879 related an incident from his childhood involving a much loved younger brother that I am convinced was the main catalyst for his pre-teen and adolescent rebellion and his increasingly anti-social and violent behaviour patterns. Although the sensitive nature of this incident and my need to observe strict doctor/patient confidentiality precludes my documenting the aforementioned incident in this report. In our many sessions A - 4879 has left no doubt that accordingly he has no faith or confidence whatsoever in the societal system and its rightful representatives of authority, teachers, police officers, priests, and politicians.
A - 4879 has completed the first year of his sentence without any infractions of the rules concerning violent behaviour, and only a few minor reprimands concerning contraband chocbars and cigarettes. In our many counselling sessions A - 4879 has demonstrated genuine remorse for his violent actions. I feel that a further twelve months incarceration would only be detrimental to his continued rehabiitation and I recommend A - 4879 be released on a twelve month probationary period under strict conditions, any violation of which would return him to Dept. of Correction custody to complete the full twelve months of his remaining sentence."
Doctor Stanley Burgess. Senior Psychologist. Department of Correction.
Slooshy well little brothers, slooshy well, thy humble narrator has a tale to tell. That being me, Alex DeLarge, sentenced at the tender age of thirteen to State Reformatory School #81 for being a rebellious young malchick. This esteemed institution was supposed to teach us to become rehabilitated and reformed members of society as it were. Pffft, lip music for their society, I say yarbles to their reform, big bolshy bollocks to them and their rehabilitation and all their bezoomny dreck. What I really learned in the reformatory was how to wield the nozh and the cut-throat britva real horroshow like, and how I could recruit a gang of droogs, tough young malchicks like your little brother Alex, and make them do my bidding and I soon gained a reputation as a malchick not to be fillied with. I learned how to stay out of the rookers of the chassos whilst dealing out tolchocks and drasting with other malchicks, and whilst some of my droogs were occasionally caught and punished for such behaviour, I managed to avoid any black marks on my record.
I learned all about the old in-out, in-out from this stern, starry old cheena, Miss Brannigan, who was the headmistress of the reformatory. I was spending a few nights in the infirmary due to a small accident in phys ed class when I had twisted my ankle quite badly. Every night at midnight the night chasso had a meal break and he would spend this down in the kitchens where he would vareet himself up a bolshy plate of fried eggiweg and sausages and slabs of kleb and butter, he would eat his midnight lunch and peet chai and smoke cancers and read the gazetta. He was supposed to have only an hour for his meal break, but he usually took over two or more hours, I mean the reformatory was hardly a Staja full of like hardened prestoopnicks and serial murderer vecks all ready to slit your throat for a packet of cancers or a dirty book, and there really wasn't any chance of my escaping with a twisted ankle. Headmistress Brannigan would often work very late and one night when all the malchicks were locked down snug in their dormitories, and the night chasso was on his meal break down in the kitchens, Well, well, welliwell my brothers, she seduced your humble narrator (as she had a few other malchicks before I was sure). When she was all nagoy I viddied that she wasn't really all that old, she was much younger than my pee and em, maybe thirty five or so and she had quite horrorshow groodies and plott. She liked lashings of ultraviolence with her in-out, in-out, and she made Alex slap her round behind until red welts appeared, she liked her groodies to be pinched hard and bitten till the red krovvy nearly flowed, and she would creech oh, oh, oh and scratch your old droog Alex's back with her sharp red nails, though my little brothers she was quite insistent that I was very careful not to leave any marks where they could be seen. This went on for six months or so until she left the Department of Correction to get married and I smecked to myself as I wondered what the moodge she had married would say if he knew of her previous nocturnal extra-curricular activities.
I learned to love the works of Ludwig Van, especially the glorious Ninth, as the Department of Correction believed that exposure to refined culture would help make us all into good little chellovecks. Most of the malchicks in the reformatory preferred the fuzzy pop warbles on their tinny little transistor radios, mostly cally dreck like Johnny Zhivago or the Heaven Seventeen, and they would make lip music when Ludwig Van was played over the tannoy. I had to teach them how to comport themselves with good manners, and a few tolchocks liberally applied soon stopped these disrespectful displays, O my brothers.
I learned how to tell the doctors who analysed my gulliver, stories of terrible vesches that had happened to me when I was very young, vesches that these head-doctor vecks believed had helped turn your humble narrator into a naughty, rebellious young malchick. It had been 12 months since I had become an inmate of this reformatory, and I was facing the parole board for a probationary release hearing. I had also learned how to tell these Department of Correction moodges in their cheap suits with their cally von of cheap cologne and old age, exactly what they wanted to hear. It was easy, I told them how like I knew now it was wrong to hurt others, and that I was very, very sorry for dealing out tolchocks and ultraviolence to those weaker than your little brother Alex. I convinced these starry old lewdies that their little droogie had seen the error of his ways, and was now ready to be a good little chelloveck. They govoreeted between themselves as I slooshied. Reformed they said. Rehabilitated they said. Redeemed they said. They stamped my file PAROLE GRANTED, and with that your droog Alex walked free from State Reformatory School #81, and home, home, home I ittied, to Municipal Flatblock 18A as skorry as my nogas would carry me
My pee and em were overjoyed at their wayward son's return, all reformed and rehabilitated and redeemed. I knew I had to be very, very careful for the next twelve months though, to keep out of the rookers of the millicents as it were, one little mis-step and it would be straight back to State Reformatory School #81 nice and skorry for another year. No my little droogs, Alex wasn't going back to the barry place again. So I played the good young malchick, and ittied off to skolliwoll, and mostly stayed out of trouble. On a few occasions I couldn't help myself and crasted a few dirty books or chocbars or packets of cancers from the local yahoody emporium. There was also a fight at my humble institution of learning, State School #76 Linear North, started by an older boy. The malchick was much larger than your humble narrator, but as I did not tolchock him senseless like I could have, or let him have a taste of my britva across his litso as I would have were I not on parole, and as I had a black eye and this malchick was not hurt, it was concluded that he had attacked me unprovoked. The headmaster didn't note this incident on my record and my parole was not, as they say, violated.
After I had been on parole for a few months I got very bolnoy. "A fever of the glands" the doctor veck said, and gave my em some medicine to give me. I had never felt so bolnoy in all my life brothers, your droog Alex was as weak as a malenky kitten and all I could do was lay in bed all day and all nochy. Mr Deltoid my Post-Correctional adviser called round to see why I hadn't been at skolliwoll, but my em explained that I was very bolnoy and that was all taken care of when he viddied me in bed all weak and pale and with a "Get well soon Alex boy." Deltoid was gone, no parole violation for his little droogie Alex. My pee and em moved the telly into my room as I was confined to bed and for the next three weeks all I could do was lay there going oh, oh, oh and feeling very weak and bolnoy in the gulliver and plott, and I viddied the TV all day long. There was one horrorshow program about the astros whizzing around the earth in the big round space station that looked like a big wheel all whirling and turning and spinning through space, and at the base on luna there was some science moodge explaining how they had found some type of vesch buried under the crater Tycho, a "Magnetic Anomaly" this veck said in his refined goloss.
There were real horrorshow old world war two flicks, the allied droogs storming the beaches of Normandy, all cannons going choom, choom, choom, and explosions and machine gunning and vecks dying after having limbs blown off, with the red krovvy everywhere, and my brothers I smecked to myself at the thought that they showed all this ultraviolence at a time when impressionable young malchicks and ptitsas too young for skolliwoll would be viddying the TV.
Mostly though it was these political type programs. These vecks were talking about "The country going to hell in a handbasket" - economic recession, massive unemployment, juvenile delinquency and other such slovos. And there were lots of pictures of derelict housing estates and emporiums with boarded up windows and striking miners and riots and they talked of the millicents being under-staffed and over-stretched. They showed footage of riot-armoured rozzers wading in to the striking miners with billy-clubs, administering tolchocks and ultraviolence to these worker vecks left and right, who were like only wanting safer working conditions and more pay to feed their families.
One veck was talking about "The alarming rise in juvenile delinquency and youth violence" and I had a gromky smeck at this my brothers, and "Prisons filled to bursting point and the need to remove these violent offenders from society" and such like, with more talk of an under-funded, over-worked police force. They govoreeted about "The urgent need to find a solution to the over-crowded prisons and reformatories." This veck talked about mandatory National Service for malchicks that had turned eighteen, his vesch was that two years in the army would teach all us rebellious malchicks proper discipline and like respect for authority.
And as I could do not much else my little droogies, I started thinking of all these political type vesches and slovos. I mean it's not acceptable to society to tolchock a few rival droogs, or rob a few sophistos, what these vecks called anti-social behaviour and juvenile delinquency, but it's perfectly acceptable and sociable behaviour to send millions of malchicks to die in ultraviolent wars? Or to drop atom bombs on cities full of innocent moodges and cheenas and malchicks? Or to send millions of lewdies to the gas ovens? Or kill millions of your own citizens in purges? Or to let millions of vecks die of starvation? You can't take ultraviolence out of society because society is ultraviolence I viddied. A few rich type vecks and sophistos have everything and all the other vecks and cheenas have to rabbit at some factory or emporium or stinking mine for a pitiful bit of pretty polly to feed their young malchicks. These sums didn't add up to me O my brothers, and I viddied that all these political moodges were like very hypocritical. I got over my fever of the glands after three weeks of bed rest and medicine and so soon had to itty off back to skolliwoll.
I met a ptitsa a few years older than me, Tanya a senior student at skolliwoll and I started seeing her, for something to do I suppose it was, what with me having no cutter and like not being able to go out at nochy because of my parole conditions. My pee and em were thrilled real horrorshow as they believed this would help me on my journey to becoming a law-abiding young malchick. All this devotchka talked about was bezoomny dreck like love and marriage and babies. I had finally managed to convince her that we should do the old in-out, in-out, and we skived off skolliwoll for the day and ittied home. When she had taken off her platties and she was all nagoy, I viddied she had real horrorshow groodies, but O my brothers your humble narrator could not, as it were, perform. I only finally managed to raise the pan-handle by viddying in my mind spanking her bottom until it was raw and red, and pinching her groodies very hard as headmistress Brannigan used to like. With these fantasies playing in my gulliver like a dirty sinny film, I gave her the business and she liked it real horrorshow, her litso was all red and flushed and she wascreeching and oh, oh, ohing, and saying she loved me. It was lucky my pee and em were off rabbiting at the factory, her love creeching was loud enough for Bog and all his angels in heaven to hear it. I soon grew bored with this ptitsa and her love slovos and after a month I told her I didn't want to lubbilub with her any more. She was very razdraz over this and she creeched and cried and slapped your little brother's litso when I asked her if she wanted a tashtook as she was all drippy and snotty and such. She creeched and spat out dirty slovos about your little brother and cried some more before ittying off home, like all upset and bezoomny.