2081

Hazel Bergeron:
I think I'd make a good Handicapper General...

George Bergeron:
You would.

Hazel Bergeron:
That's all right - he tried. That's the important thing. I think he should get a nice big raise for trying so hard.

Replacement TV Anchor:
Please be advised that Bergeron is a genius and an athlete, is underhandicapped, and is considered extremely dangerous. If you see this man, please contact your local authorities immediately.

Harrison Bergeron:
My name is Harrison Bergeron. I am a fugitive and a public threat. I am an abomination of the able. I am an exception to the accepted. I am the greatest man you have never known. And for the last six years I have been held prisoner by the state, sentenced without trial, to torture without end.

Harrison Bergeron:
They had hoped to destroy any trace of the extraordinary in me, and in time I came to share that hope. But the extraordinary, it seems, was simply out of their reach.

Harrison Bergeron:
Music!

Hazel Bergeron:
Aww, hon, you look upset. What's wrong?

George Bergeron:
I... uh... don't know. Something sad... on television, I think...

Hazel Bergeron:
Well, you should forget sad things anyway. I always do.

Hazel Bergeron:
  You know, it must be very interesting to hear all the different sounds—all the things they think up.

George Bergeron:
  It isn't. Compare this to the Vonnegut story, in which it says,

"I'd think it would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds," said Hazel a little envious.  "All the things they think up.""Um," said George.

George Bergeron:
  Hazel, if I take them off, I'm gonna want to keep them off.  And we both know how we would feel about that.

Hazel Bergeron:
  I'd hate it.

George Bergeron:
  So, nothing to be done, then. Compare this to the Vonnegut story, in which it says,

"All of a sudden you look so tired," said Hazel.  "Why don't you stretch out on the sofa, so's you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch."  She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in a canvas bag, which was padlocked around George's neck.  "Go on and rest the bag for a little while," she said.  "I don't care if you're not equal to me for a while."George weighed the bag with his hands.  "I don't mind it," he said.  "I don't notice it any more.  It's just a part of me.""You been so tired lately—kind of wore out," said Hazel.  "If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls.  Just a few.""Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out," said George.  "I don't call that a bargain.""If you could just take a few out when you came home from work," said Hazel.  "I mean—you don't compete with anybody around here.  You just set around.""If I tried to get away with it," said George, "then other people'd get away with it—and pretty soon we'd be right back to the dark ages again, with everybody competing against everybody else.  You wouldn't like that, would you?""I'd hate it," said Hazel."There you are," said George.  "The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?"

Hazel Bergeron:
  Hun?  You look upset; what's wrong?

George Bergeron:
  [all choked up]  I don't know.  Something, uh…sad…on the television, I think.

Hazel Bergeron:
  Oh, well, you should forget sad things, anyway; I always do. Compare this to the Vonnegut story, in which it says,

George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up.  And then he sat down again.  "You been crying?" he said to Hazel."Yup," she said."What about?" he said."I forget," she said.  "Something real sad on television.""What was it?" he said."It's all kind of mixed up in my mind," said Hazel."Forget sad things," said George."I always do," said Hazel."That's my girl," said George.  He winced.  There was the sound of a rivetting gun in his head.

Narrator:
The year was 2081, and everybody was finally equal.  They weren't only equal before God and the law, you see.  They were equal every which way.  Nobody was smarter than anybody else.  Nobody was better looking than anybody else.  Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else.  And all this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of the United States Handicapper General.  The strong wore weights to make them weaker.  The intelligent wore earpieces that kept them from taking unfair advantage of their brains.  Even the beautiful sometimes wore masks in situations where their beauty might simply be…too distracting.  It was the Golden Age of Equality.

Replacement T. V. Anchor:
Good evening.  We've just received warning from the office of the Handicapper General that suspected-anarchist Harrison Bergeron has escaped from custody.  Arrested six years ago for propagandist vandalism, broadcast piracy, refusal to report for his quarterly handicapping evaluations, and for the blatant removal of his handicaps in a public place, Mr. Bergeron had been awaiting trial in a maximum security prison here in Washington, D. C., when he, miraculously, disappeared from his cell earlier this evening.  Please be advised that Bergeron is a genius and an athlete, is underhandicapped, and is considered extremely dangerous.