Yesteryear Fiction

Control
By E.S. Wynn


When the last piece of technology built to censor the free speech of the masses was done away with, the masters who controlled the flow of ink and page turned to magic. One by one, men of power changed the messages within films and books, glossing new graphics into magazines and games. Greed and power worked steadily at the foundations of art, eroded the classics, replacing the strokes and words of artistic elegance with the images and touches that fed their own agendas. Eventually, even the words that moved from mouth to ear were changed as they hit the air, leaving all of entertainment an advertisement, all of speech a slogan. No one noticed as art deflated under the heel of progress, breathed a silent, wilting scream from the distant edge of a forgotten roadway.


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Duchamp. Now there was a man.