Well, that is a perfect parallel. "After bread, the need of the people is
knowledge," said Danton. Knowledge is now a monopoly, and comes through
to the citizens in thin and selected streams, exactly as bread might come
through to a besieged city. Men must wish to know what is happening,
whoever has the privilege of telling them. They must listen to the
messenger, even if he is a liar. They must listen to the liar, even if he
is a bore. The official journalist for some time past has been both a
bore and a liar; but it was impossible until lately to neglect his sheets
of news altogether. Lately the capitalist Press really has begun to be
neglected; because its bad journalism was overpowering and appalling.
Lately we have really begun to find out that capitalism cannot write, just
as it cannot fight, or pray, or marry, or make a joke, or do any other
stricken human thing. But this discovery has been quite recent. The
capitalist newspaper was never actually unread until it was actually
unreadable.
If you retain the servile superstition that the Press, as run by the
capitalists, is popular (in any sense except that in which dirty water in
a desert is popular), consider the case of the solemn articles in praise
of the men who own newspapers--men of the type of Cadbury or Harmsworth,
men of the type of the small club of millionaires.
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