Ray Bradbury, Do You See This Shit?

By: Help my book is on fire

I’m starting to think some of y’all did actually read Fahrenheit 451, but mistook it for an instruction manual. What do you mean we now have AI powered book summary apps? You’re seriously using AI to summarize a fucking Colleen Hoover book? “Girl with stupidity problems dates guy who is lowkey a rapist” — there, now you know every Hoover book ever and you didn’t even need AI to do it for you. 

It’s not the AI part that really makes this horrific—it’s the public response to these new features. It’s the joy from those who realize they don’t have to dedicate time, energy, brain power, and comprehension skills to “read” a book anymore. It’s people who want every excuse to say they read or they educate themselves while they ask ChatGPT to summarize fairy smut for them. You couldn’t even muster the strength to read smut? Ray, hold me. I’m gonna start swinging. 

Seriously, if you don’t want to dedicate the time to reading a book, then don’t fucking read the book. Do you realize how many YouTubers and bloggers out there will give you a thorough dissection of almost any book you’ve ever been curious about, but don’t necessarily want to read? Goodreads reviews can be thousands of words! Where do you fucks get off on having AI summarize a book when there are so many ethical and human produced options? Hell, they can also give you misinformation if that’s what you’re really after!

Ray Bradbury, please come back. The kids miss you; I miss you. Society made the robot police dogs and gave them flamethrowers. We have people genuinely confused on why they need to read. States are banning books about gay penguins and kids who like having curly hair. 

Ray, this is not a drill. They’re killing reading comprehension under the guise of “it’s not that deep.” Empathy is dead and we laugh at corpses for recreation. We have people commenting “what does this mean” under poems that explicitly state what they mean. The wall is now a TV. Ray, I’m so sorry. Please get me off this ride. 

We’re getting to the part of the book where the woman sits inside her burning house with all her books, and people look at her like she’s crazy for not wanting history, literature, free thought, love, happiness, grief, despair, joy, etc. etc. etc. to be destroyed. “It’s not that deep,” the crowd shouts as the inferno rages. 

Ray, the worst part is even if you were still here it wouldn’t make a difference. We read your books and people walk away to ask ChatGPT how to write an email. We read about self-inflicted censorship and then people say “unalive” to your face. We read about mindlessly consuming media as a tool for social control and then doomscroll before bed each night. Ray, come back. You at least should have the chance to burn with us. 

“You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.”

-Ray Bradbury