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Kindl(e)-ing – The Haiku

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Books dwindling Kindl(e)ing

All Pulp’d Fiction

 

Dial  E  for  E-vil…     Part the First

Fahrenheit 1832

 

I enjoy books.

 

I like to turn pages. I like to hold books. I need chaperones in bookstores, as I wear my old coat to buy the new book. When I travel, books are security. [1] I can always retreat to the safe haven of dog-eared page 112 in a strange place. At home, I stack and shelve good books, like a Collyer Starter Kit. [2] I throw bad books across the room. I  awake  on the sofa to a book on my face and reading glasses pokes to my side more times than I care to mention.

 

I like to read.

 

And mostly, I read garbage. [3] / [4]

 

Cast aspersions and arch eyebrows all you want at wizards, dragons, and vampires – the song remains the same: I enjoy books. I like to read.

 

Reading is FUNdamental

 

Reading is a rainbow.

 

I said: ‘Reading is good. Can we start the story now?’

 

Sure, here’s the story…

 

Just let me find my book.

 

The thing is – I can’t. On a recent Amazon mousing-spree, I discovered two new words for my urbane dictionary. Well, two words and a not-word bit:

e-book only 

 

Look at that ‘e hyphen’. *shudder*

It doesn’t belong there. It just dangles like a hair to be plucked, a hangnail to be trimmed, a strange alphabetic blotch you better have checked by your physician. Your book has a growth and it’s not long for this world.

My books were gone. [5] Well-they were there.  Let’s not split e-hairs. I just couldn’t get them in the mail. I just couldn’t hold them. I just couldn’t love them. My books had become The Boy in the Plastic Bubble [6]

The Amazon screen just stared back at me coolly. It didn’t understand me. ‘You can still have them’, it seemed to say with a mocking, haughty flicker,’No fuss. No muss. No mail.’

‘The time has come to futureproof your reading, Sweetheart…’

‘…or weren’t you aware?’

‘Just wait five seconds for this little bar to fill and…’

My palm slapped the screen as if to cover a cathode monster’s face with no afghan at the ready. The static monitor charge tickled my fingers like the coax of a faltering, unfamiliar lover.

I buried my face in invisible pillows to avoid the smug wink of the monitor and the inevitable subliminal sales pitch as old as time. Words used to convince and cajole since Neolithic wheel salesmen walked the Earth, hair slicked back with  primordial ooze.

‘You know you want it…’

 

It didn’t know me.

 

I wanted fuss. I wanted muss. I wanted packages.

 

I wanted books.

 

Things to read. Things to hold. Things to love.

 

Not things to click or slide or flick or drag.

 

Things to open.

 

Books.

 

Books are meant to be opened –  for they are gifts.

 

I Sing the Body Electric!

 

And turn a deaf ear to the sirens’ call of the Body Electric-Electric…

Pop Culture Haiku Literature Tech Kindle Entertainment Humor

Fahrenheit 1832 

 [7]

(To Be Continued)

—Hai

 

 

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. Books are grand security blankets. However, Sir Hops-a-lot, valiant Knight of the Pond Table, always does his part at night.  He lost an eye defending me during the Great Shadow that Looked like a Clown Attack of  ’80. I love you – Sir Hops-a-lot!
  2. Those Darn Collyer Brothers (’47, Columbia Pictures) I have been told I would straddle the hoarder fence, if there wasn’t so much junk in the way. I’m fine. I just have stuff. I haven’t taken to booby-trapping stacks of old newspapers. Now, Ariel the Mermaid-she’s a hoarder. Go intervent her.
  3. Wizard or Dragon on the cover? Check. Enticing cover art that looks like it should be called ‘The Wizard’s Concubine’ and has nothing to do with the story? Check. Possible vampires turned private investigator? Check. My reading list is about as predictable as plucky hero amnesia in a JRPG.
  4. I’m not alone. Most of The KuJo read garbage – *ahem* – ‘escapist literature’. Seward was reading Unexplained! Strange Sightings, Incredible Occurrences, & Puzzling Physical Phenomena! New Edition! by Jerome Clark the other day. He said he appreciated the front cover enthusiasm.  
  5. The majority of the middle rungs in Glen Cook’s Garrett P.I. series.  Noir detective in a fantasy setting? These books-so not garbage. Check them out!

    (While you can…….)

  6. Ohmygah! Travolta carrying paint cans in the opening of Saturday Night Fever : cool. Travolta flopping and rolling down the street carrying paint cans with the aid of a robo-rubber glove sticking out of the side of transparent beach ball : e-books.
  7. The temperature at which Silicon burns.  Truism. I crunched some numbers.

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