As a kid, I had the great pleasure of reading my father’s, The Stories of Ray Bradbury, for almost 3 years before reading Fahrenheit 451. If you’re not familiar with Bradbury, 451 is incredibly shocking and terrifying. I wasn’t shocked my first time reading it because my exposure to Bradbury had taught me to look past the surface meaning to see the meaning. It is not about censorship, it is about a future where information means… nothing. It has no context. Nothing to connect us to it. The information presented to us by the media is worthless. I think today that applies more than ever to the internet. And that was more terrifying than anything else for me.
I love Bradbury. I love when he scares us and makes us think and his stories can fit into almost any modern time-period. Of his short-stories, The Jar. How I despise that story because I can feel my imagination thinking about who I know and it is just.. the worst feeling in the world. My personal favorite for some reason is, The Fog Horn, especially when living in Illinois. I even love the inspiration for this story too as Bradbury said he and his wife were walking along a beach and found a ruined roller-coaster track lying half in the water like a beached, heart-broken dinosaur come to see the source of the noise that called to it.