𝑛𝑜 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛'𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑.

Teachers Bible

But we had forgotten that alongside Orwell's dark vision, there was another - slightly older, slightly less well known, equally chilling: Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. Contrary to common belief even among the educated, Huxley and Orwell did not prophesy the same thing. Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley's vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.

What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial. culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy. As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny "failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions." In 1984, Orwell added, people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure. In short, Orwell feared that what we fear will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we desire will ruin us.

This book is about the possibility that Huxley, not Orwell, was right.

- Amusing Ourselves To Death, Neil Postman

Alright time to continue the quoting

It was as if the window were thrown open, admitting a freer atmosphere into the close and stifled study, where his life was wasting itself away, amid lamp-light, or obstructed daybeams, and the musty fragrance, be it sensual or moral, that exhales from books.

Wherever there is a heart and an intellect, the diseases of the physical frame are tinged with the peculiarities of these.

But I- know not what to say- the disease is what I seem to know, yet know it not.

wandered without a clew in the dark labyrinth of mind.

It seemed to be his wish and purpose to mask this expression with a smile; but the latter played him false, and flickered over his visage so derisively, that the spectator could see his blackness all the better for it.

What see you in my face, that you look at it so earnestly?

-Something that would make me weep, if there were any tears bitter enough for it.

I was in the autumn of my days.

But all my life had been made up of earnest, studious, thoughtful, quiet years, bestowed faithfully for the increase of mine own knowledge.

Since that moment, it has all been a dark necessity.

No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.