They’re screaming. The room’s dark, chairs circled. Your best friend’s sobbing. The mob is shouting curses, throwing objects, hating a faceless figure. For now, you stand alone, observing. The urge to join in is almost uncontrollable, but you’re fearing something greater. We might not be in Orwell’s 1984, and this isn’t sophomore English class. But when the Two Minutes Hate comes on, will you resist its pull?