Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Elath Taen made mad music for the men of Mars. The red planet lived and would die to the soul-tearing tunes of his fiendish piping. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from and darker side, ever present, ever hidden. While earthmen work and plan, building, repairing, bringing their vast energy and progress to decadent Mars, the silent little reddies go their devious ways, following ancient laws which no amount of terrestial logic can shake. Time-bound ritual, mysterious passions and hates, torturous, devious logic ... all these, like dark winding underground streams run beneath the tall fair city that brings such thrilled superlatives to the lips of the terrestial tourists. canal, was in no mood for the bizarre beauties of Martian scenery. For Jared Haller, as head of the state-owned Martian Broadcasting System, was next in importance to the august Governor Winship himself. As far back as the Hitlerian wars on earth it had been known that he who controls propaganda, controls the nation ... or planet. Martian Broadcasting was an important factor in controlling the fierce warlike little reddies, keeping the terrestial-imposed peace on the red planet. And when Jared Haller sent to Earth for one of the Terrestial "someone, something, is working to gain control of the Martian controls M.B.C. controls Mars! Here's the set-up! Our company, although good work we terrestials are doing on Mars and keep any revolutionary propaganda off the air-waves. Except for myself, and half a dozen other That's in line with our policy of teaching Mars our civilization until few terrestials at the top of M.B.C ... and Martian staff would carry during that period with no check on their activities, they started to dish out nationalist propaganda? One hour's program, with the old Martian war-songs being played and some rabble-rouser yelling 'down with the terrestial oppressors' and there'd be a revolution. Millions "But," ... Ranson frowned ... "this is only an interesting supposition. The reddies are civilized, peaceful." "Outwardly," Haller snapped. "But what do you or any other earthmen know about what goes on in their round red heads? And the proof that some revolt is planned lies in what's been happening the past few "Music?" Ranson echoed. "Look here, Mr. Haller, you...." And that's the music! In each instance the servants told of hearing, very faintly, a strange melody. Music that did queer things to them, even though they could hear it only vaguely. Music like none they'd ever heard. Like the devil's pipes, playing on their souls, while.... Almighty God!" canal boats, the staccato roar of rockets as some earth-bound freighter leaped from the spaceport. Familiar, homey sounds, these, but beneath them, like an undercurrent of madness, ran the macabre melody. There was, there had never been, Ranson knew, any music like this. It was the pipes of Pan, the chant of robots, the crying of souls in torment. It was a cloudy purple haze that engulfed the mind, it was a silver knife plucking a cruel obligato on taut nerves, it was a thin Neither man moved. Ranson knew all the tricks of visual hypnotism, the whirling mirror, the waving hands, the pool of ink ... but this was the hypnotism of sound. Louder and clearer the music sounded, in eerie overtones, quavering sobbing minors, fierce reverberating bass. Sharp shards of sound pierced their ears, deep throbbing underrhythm shook them as a cat shakes a mouse. these, he decided, that their unknown serenader lay concealed. felt as though a file were rasping his nerves. He knew that he should dash down, seize the invisible musician below ... but logic, facts and duty, all were fading from his mind. The music was a spur, goading him to wild unreasoning anger. The red mists of hate swirled through his brain, a strange unreasoning bloodlust grew with the savage beat of the wild music. Berserk rage sounded in each shivering note and Ranson felt an insane desire to run amok. To inflict pain, to see red blood flow, to kill ... kill! Blindly he whirled, groping for his gun, as the music rose in a frenzied death-wail. distorted his features, insane murder lurked in his eyes. The music was his master, and it was driving him to frenzy. "Kill!" the weird rhythm Whether it was the deadly melody outside, or the instinct of grinning furiously, and in a moment both men were struggling, teeth bared in animalistic grins, breath coming in choked gasps, whirling in a mad dance of death as the macabre music distilled deadly poison within their brains. conjured up pictures in Ranson's mind ... pictures of fairyland, of exquisitely beautiful scenes, of women lovely beyond imagination. All of man's hopes, man's dreams, were in that music, and it drew Ranson as toward the source of the music, like a man drugged. As he approached the window the melody grew louder. The hypnotism of sound, he knew, but he didn't care. It was enthralling, irresistible. Headquarters of the Martian Canal-Patrol was brilliantly lighted by a if it hadn't been self-defense, I probably would have fought with him. That music was madness, I tell you! Madness! Nobody's responsible when under its influence! I...." loose on Mars, the devil's melody! And it's got to be stopped before it turns this planet upside down!" terrestials on Mars! And I'm going to stop it! So long, captain! You they threw weird double shadows across the rippling canals, the aimless streets. Sleek canal-cabs roared along the dark waterways, throwing up clouds of spray, and on the embankments, green-eyed, bulge-headed eternal mystery of Mars. tiny bits of matter left behind by the unknown. The theory behind it was quite simple. The T.I. scientists had reasoned that the sense of smell is merely the effect of suspended molecules in the air acting upon sensitive nerve filaments, and they knew that any normal human can follow a trail of some strong odor such as perfumes, or gasoline, gambling dens, dives full of drunken spacehands and slim red-skinned girls, maudlin singing ... even the yellow glare of the forbidden san-rays, as they filtered through drawn windows. Unsteady figures made Venusians, boisterous earthmen ... and the little Martians padding outlaw and renegade, whose sole desire was the extermination of all terrestials on Mars, a revival of the ancient glories of the red planet. The tales told about him were fabulous and this was the man behind the unholy music! The music was a caress, soft as a woman's skin. Slow, drowsy, like the hum of bees on a hot summer's afternoon. Soothing, soporific, in dreamy, crooning chords. A lullaby, that seemed to hang lead weights upon the eyelids. Audible hypnotism, as potent as some drug. Clearer with each second, the melody grew, coming nearer and nearer the laboratory. sleep. The music was like chloroform, its notes stroked his brain.

<question>:
Is the motive behind the propaganda that Martian Broadcasting uses to control the reddies on Mars similar to the motive behind the mysterious hypnotizing music that the terrestrials keep hearing, and why?

<options>:
A No, because the propaganda that Martian Broadcasting delivers influences destructive behavior among reddies.
B No, because the propaganda delivered by Martian Broadcasting is not delivered in the same form as the hypnotizing music.
C Yes, because it turns out that both the propaganda and the hypnotizing music are created by Martian Broadcasting.
D Yes, because both the propaganda and the hypnotizing music intend to control the thoughts of the reddies/terrestrials.

<answer>:

D