And from before the digital archives of Facebook and so on ...
As newly minted fictional communist subjects began to take their breakfast
collectively yet, crucially, also within the confines of their glass walled
room:
'The cheerful little crystal bell in my headboard dings 7.00 A.M.: time to
get up. To the right and left through the glass walls I see something like my
own self, my own room, my own clothes, my own movements, and all repeated a
thousand times. It cheers you up. You see yourself as part of an immense,
powerful, single thing. And such a precise beauty it is: not a wasted gesture,
bend, turn.'
Yevgeny Zamyatin, We (1921)
John
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