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Page 28 text:
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THE GREAT SOCIETY He was in the Great Arena, standing alone in its center, his whole body tensed, poised, watchful. The surrounding mob screamed for his death, yelled mercilessly to see him bowed, his face crushed in the dust. His face was calm, but for his knotted jaws and bright eyes, which bespoke of greater unconquerable anger. The mob suddenly became quieter, more subtly vicious in its hissing and angry mutterings-they wanted to see a cowering, frightened animal that would only resemble a many instead they saw this terribly proud being who had greater self-mastery than they. And now the time of his destruction was near, the price he had to pay for being born with a mind. at an wk wk wk He had an inkling of its beginning when mothers pointed him out on the street to their children in awed and fearful cautionary whispers. His books had by then amassed a faithful and expanding following, and he assumed that these repeated inci- dents were no more than normal, unimportant reactions to a proponent of severely radical ideas. He had discovered that his writings held a peculiar fascination to various rebellious segments of the society-they were something to be looked at with envy and awe. People had somehow respected him because he dared do what they did not, and if this made him an outcast as well, it did not matter. His writing had been considered harm- less, their effect on radical youth was put down to adolescent rebellion, to be eventually outgrown. But then it was sensed that his ideas, which had soon spread and quickly come within the grasp of all, were starting to bother people. A man walking to some appointment and reading one of his books would stop and stand there thinking, oblivious to everything else. A few moments later he would blink and walk on, a troubled expression on his face that would disappear a few steps later.
It was of course hard to become known by criticizing a society in which almost everyone was satisfied, but this only lend further power to the vicious force of his words. His main criticism of the life people then led was that man had lost his initiative, he had become too self-suiiicient. No thought was required anymoreg there was no need for originality, and therefore man was doomed to stagnation. Eventually he posed a serious threat to the very basic structure of this society, and its leader decided to, quite literally, remove him from existence, from people's most secret hopes and thoughts. A campaign of great vituperation began against him, combining the physical and psychological to their most destructive capabilities, His name was cursed on all media of public communication, people who wanted to feel self-righteous vilified him knowingly to their friends. And hypnotic whispers were heard in the night urging those who slept to hate when they awoke. Finally, hatred of this man, his ideals, and all he stood for, became an essential part of the society's psyche. justification was demanded, a complete purge, and the leaders finally felt secure enough to publicly announce the coming ultimate horror. The man of course, after the initial surprise, accepted what had happened as a necessary sacrifice for his thoughts, and had some time to develop his anger-anger at himself for believing that he alone could change a world. :ie as :ze as af They were piling up all his books now, and even the animal multitudes were silent. The books had previously been chemically treated, and now, with just a touch of the match they burst into a glorious, blazing flame. He watched them burn, making no effort to stop anything, or even to fling himself on the fires, as most expected. He just stood there, letting his anger emanate, as if to let his fury consume the flames. When nothing was left but a huge mass of ashes, they slowly brought the machine toward him. It seemed simple from the outside, but when he walked inside it, many complex and sensitive instruments would erase his entire psyche, leaving his mind a total blank-and the experts could remold it to their wishes. He needed no prodding-he walked firmly toward the entrance, casting one last contemptuous look around him. Then he entered. After a while they brought him out, propping him up. He was totally faceless-no expression, nothing in his eyes-one total blank. The multitudes broke into a great cheer, applauding and laughing, and then, as one, they burst into a song-the man slowly moved his lips into some insane smile- For beautiful and spacious skies . . . S b 6 M012 Czdpnjk
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