Now Entering Dystopia

They were all right. The novelists of the 20th century. Orwell. Bradbury. Huxley.

The prophecies embedded in their stories, once thought far-fetched, are our reality.

Orwell warned us of surveillance states and the manipulation of truth. We now live in a world where cameras are everywhere, where algorithms track our every move, and where news is shaped by agenda more than accuracy. "Doublethink" and "newspeak" are no longer literary devices but daily occurrences, as language itself becomes a battleground of ideology and spin.

Bradbury foresaw the numbing power of entertainment and the erasure of deep thought. His vision of wall-sized screens and distracted minds in Fahrenheit 451 feels eerily familiar in our age of streaming services, endless scrolling, and 10-second dopamine hits. Books are not yet burned en masse, but they are abandoned. Silence and reflection are harder to come by.

Huxley imagined a society pacified by pleasure, conditioned to avoid discomfort, and willingly trading liberty for comfort. His world of Brave New World feels less dystopian because it is seductive. Who needs to ban ideas when you can drown people in distractions and train them to love their servitude?

This wasn't all just fiction—it was prophecy. Warnings we failed to heed. They held up a grim mirror, and we let intrigue become infatuation. We thought we were reading about other people in other worlds. But it was always about us.

And now, it’s not prophecy. It’s the present.