And because they had mass,
they became simpler.
The world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths.
Double, triple, quadruple population.
Films and radios, magazines,
books levelled down to a sort of paste pudding norm,
We must all be alike.
Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says,
but everyone made equal.
Each man the image of every other;
then all are happy,
for there are no mountains
to make them cower, to judge themselves against.
So! A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it.
Burn them all, burn everything. Fire is bright and fire is clean.»
Everything boils down to the gag,
the snap ending.
Classics cut to fit fifteen-minute radio shows,
then cut again to fill a two-minute book column,
winding up at last as a ten- or twelve-line dictionary resume.
Speed up the film, Bong, Boom!
Politics? One column, two sentences, a headline!
Then, in mid-air, all vanishes!
Whirl man’s mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers,
that the centrifuge
flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought!
More sports for everyone, group spirit, fun, and you don’t have to think, eh?