This is not what FR David was on about.
Words are meant to be all powerful. They're supposed to render ones opponent impotent in the face of their sheer magnitude and overwhelming force. Why then, has society chosen to upgrade its arms and devalue the written word so dramatically?
And by the written word I, of course, mean lyrics to songs. And now my train of thought has come to shuddering halt and sommer derailed itself...
My brain has most certainly atrophied to the point where I can no longer follow through on any particular chain of reasoning. Perhaps it's because we live in a world where what passes for literature is the equivalent of what passes through ones rectum after binging on McDonalds. And it's just as nourishing for your soul. Don't get me wrong. I'm no high brow literary man with leather-elbowed tweed jackets. I own Wayne Rooney's autobiography for fuck's sake. But I draw the line at "I can hazz cheezburger". And the subsequent demolition of language in all its glorious applications.
I also own a leather bound edition of The Necronomicon, although I struggle with that one. Also, for the real prose-nuts, an author bound first edition of Bayeau (as if to make my point, I'm not entirely sure of the spelling - darn you, socky ironicalness!). If you have to ask, then you're one of the many left out of the loop.
So why am I banging on about something most educated people have already lamented ad nauseum? I saw a link that asked 'Why can't we read anymore?" and instead of reading it, I chose to fill your lives with my pointless drivel. Aren't you excited? Now you can go and spend your lunch hour in a queue for Burger King (or any other establishment with wifi) and entertweet yourself with bytesized glimpses into the lives of some of the most inconsequential individuals ever to draw breath. Do not forget to buy the branded lunchboxes!
My poor kids, should I one day afflict the Earth with the result of my heaving procreation attempts, are going to be the least popular kids in school!
Fuck this - I'm going to "whooosah!" for the rest of the afternoon and have Anathema's latest offerings on youtube soothe my soul. If only there was genuine rest for the wicked. I'd even settle for just a nap and dial back my diabolical plans a notch...
Spread The Love. Wield Your Mighty Word Sword (Excalibur Mark)