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"... The world's stable now. People are happy; they get what they want, and they never want what they can't get. They're well off; they're safe; they're never ill; they're not afraid of death; they're blissfully ignorant of passion and old age; they're plagued with no mothers or fathers; they've got no wives, or children, or loves to feel strongly about; they're so conditioned that they practically can't help behaving as they ought to behave. And if anything should go wrong, there's [the drug] soma.(Bkz bilimum zihin sıfırlayıcı psikolojik ve psikiyatrik ilaçlar... Bkz hiç hasta olmamayı dileyen ve öğütleyen tı p... Bkz ölümü her gün yaşayan ama güncel hayatında yanından geçmediği için sürekli olarak unutan ve haliyle korkamayan insanlar... Bkz post kapitalizmin yeni aile düzeninde evlilik, boşanma, aldatma ve çocuk yetiştirme algıları... Ve birşeyler ters mi gidiyor? Küçük(!) bir ücret karşılığında size yoga, psiko grup terapileri vs verebiliriz, ilgilenir misiniz?Endüstriyel hegemonik bir sınıf olarak doktorlar sınıfı diyen SPK'ya slm...)Which you go and chuck out of the window in the name of liberty, Mr Savage. Liberty!" He laughed. "Expecting Deltas to know what liberty is! And now expecting them to understand Othello! My good boy!"

The Savage was silent for a little. "All the same," he insisted obstinately, "Othello's good, Othello's better than those feelies [sensation movies]."

"Of course it is," the Controller agreed. "But that's the price we have to pay for stability...(İstiktrarın bedeli, aranızda ödemeyen var mı?) Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune... In a properly organized society like ours, nobody has any opportunities for being noble or heroic..."

"But the tears are necessary... There's a story one of the old Indians used to tell us, about the Girl of Matsaki. The young men who wanted to marry her had to do a morning's hoeing in her garden. It seemed easy; but there were flies and mosquitoes, magic ones. Most of the young men simply couldn't stand the biting and stinging. But the one that could -- he got the girl."
"Charming! But in civilized countries," said the Controller, "you can have girls without hoeing for them; and there aren't any flies or mosquitoes to sting you. We got rid of them all centuries ago."

The Savage nodded, frowning, "You got rid of them. Yes, that's just like you. Getting rid of everything unpleasant instead of learning to put up with it... What you need... is something with tears for a change. Nothing costs enough here... Isn't there something in that?..."(Mutluluğun rasyonel seçimi, toplumsalcı demokrasinin totaliter propogandası böyle işliyor... Reddederseniz, ya teröristsiniz ya da hasta!)

"There's a great deal in it," the Controller replied. "Men and women must have their adrenals stimulated from time to time."

"What?" questioned the Savage, uncomprehending.

"It's one of the conditions of perfect health. That's why we've made the VPS treatments compulsory."

"VPS?"

"Violent Passion Surrogate. Regularly once a month. We flood the whole system with adrenalin. It's the complete physiological equivalent of fear and rage. All the tonic effects of murdering Desdemona and being murdered by Othello, without any of the inconveniences."(Bizde henüz VPS yok, ancak psikanaliz, terapiler ve tedavilerimiz sabit... VPS'de niye olmasın? Psikosavaşta 3G teknolojisi Rasyonel mutluluğunuz için birebir!)

"But I like inconveniences."

"We don't," said the Controller. "We prefer to do things comfortably."

"But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin."(Ben de; bkz I love Kurtlu Kitap)

"In fact," said Mustapha Mond, "you're claiming the right to be unhappy."

"All right, then," said the Savage defiantly, "I'm claiming the right to be unhappy."

"Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind."

There was a long silence.

"I claim them all," said the Savage at last.

Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. "You're welcome," he said."

-- Aldous Huxley, Brave New World (1932)


Ozan Durmaz