This morning, I start my day with the distinct feeling that
I may not have enough to worry about. As friends of mine will know, this is a
rarity for me and one that I’m sure they would encourage me to enjoy.
I know this due to the fact that I have just sat on a bus
and got annoyed, neigh angry, at a seemingly innocent use of an electronic book
by another bus passenger. The lady (ignorant to my anger at the aforementioned electronic
device) had done little wrong aside from using it. But it made me angry
nonetheless and I will tell you for why.
I love books. Real books. Books that you can hold in your
hands and spill tea on without them exploding. Love them. Can’t get enough of
the little buggers.
I may not read them
much, in fact I rather regard myself as a ‘knowledge collector’ aka a ‘gatherer
of books’ than a bookworm per se. But I collect them for when I do eventually
have the time to read them…possibly when I retire, when I can sit down with my unnecessarily
large book collection (library?), living out my remaining decades learning
stuff (that granted would probably helped knowing in life) whilst sipping on
futuristic tea and dunking my custard cream and feeling rather clever.
You cannot beat a book. The way it smells, the way it feels
and indeed makes you feel when others watch you reading it and think, ‘Ahh, didn’t
have her down as an angling enthusiast’. Or that wonderful feeling of racing
through the last page of the book so you can smugly slam it shut, knowing that
you have read the whole damn thing.
People all look the same reading electronic books. It
reminds me of some sort of Doctor Who episode in which everyone gets
brainwashed by reading the same rubbish. Like a strange opposites version of ‘1984’….where
everyone is actually encouraged to read the same thing, and sit mindlessly reading
the same old tripe made readily availiable to them…Fifty Shades of Tripe for
example (sorry ladies but similar material has been on the market for ages. Let’s
get over it.) Real books don’t break down or malfunction either. Fact. Nor can
you place an electronic book on your head in order to improve your posture.*
No, I’m sorry but electronic books are, to me, a step closer
to the day when in order to live out our daily lives we will no longer need to
leave the house, just think of what our day would be like and get a computer to
live it for us. This is my campaign for real books. Down with electronic books.
And whilst we’re at it, down with electric whisks as well…..nothing beats a bit
of hard cupcake graft.
*Imagine, for example, Eliza Dolittle as she stoops to grab
her sudden descending Kindle, ‘Cor blimey guvnor I’ve smashed me book!’.
