Requiescat In Pace

In case you haven’t heard, I really hate to break the news, but. . . .

BOOKS ARE DEAD.

I have this doleful discourse on good authority from several reliable sources — the internet, for example. And social media. And even some people I may have inadvertently married or given birth to.   

Apparently, now that our species has digital information at its fingertips, print books are no longer necessary. In this scenario, books are the dinosaurs, and the digital revolution the asteroid. 

Ouch! 

For example, blogger Benny Lewis says, "I am absolutely confident that within a few decades books will just be antiques. Collectors or die-hard fans will keep them “alive” in much the same way LPs still exist today." ("Books are dead--it's time to ditch the 15th century technology," Benny Lewis.)

My blood boils a little whenever anyone says that books are dead — meaning print books, of course. But my revenge is to curl up on the couch with a stack of good books and a cup of hot cocoa (with swirly, twirly mounds of whipped cream) until these false prophets are forced to (choose one). . . .

• jump overboard into the jaws of a great white whale
• relive adolescence with Holden Caulfield
• compete in the Hunger Games    and/or
• reinstate their library cards and read until they get some sense.

Meanwhile I, along with other enlightened ones, will continue to enjoy the heft of a book in my hands, the smell of a used bookstore on a rainy day, the beauty of a well-designed book, the delights of reading a beautiful book by a favorite author, the joy of discovering yet another new favorite.

And along with my precious print books, I’ll also enjoy books in digital and audio formats. I agree with Stephen Fry, who said, “Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators.” Have you noticed? Nobody ever says "Stairs are dead."

I love being surrounded by shelf after shelf (after shelf...) of my old friends, the beloved books that have encouraged and shaped me through the years. Although I must admit that whenever it’s time to move to a new house, I sometimes have a teensy twinge of regret about my book hoarding. (Twinge = "What the bleep was I thinking when I got all these blankety books?")

All those boxes of books are so darn heavy to lift and tote. Just ask my grown children, since they are usually the ones doing the aforementioned lifting and toting. But I feel bad about it. 

I really do.

Oh well, serves them right for saying that books are dead!

(...Um, just kidding, guys! You know that, right? . . .Right?)

So, books are dead? Never! To the contrary, books are alive and thriving. In fact, many of them are living a life of pampering and privilege at my house. You can trust the Stark Raving Mythopath.

Photo Credits:
     Crying angel -- © Can Stock Photo / mkistryn
     Candles -- © Can Stock Photo / Irochka
     Girl reading -- Public Domain
     Bookcases -- Public Domain

     Cartoon of Moving Day -- Public Domain
     Mourner -- © Can Stock Photo / gina_sanders

Book It!

Reprinted from Cookies & Milk, 

a children's feature in SW Ohio newspapers

Where can you find dragons and dinosaurs, vampires and volcanoes, wizards and wildebeests, aliens from outer space and famous people from earth history — all under one roof?  

No, not in a new theme park from Disney-Pixar, but right down the street or around the corner...in your own local library! 

Huntington Library, by Aaron Logan

A library is a place of wonder and discovery — where fairy tales can come to life. Just open a book and plug in your imagination!

Do you have questions — about how computers work or how to become a champion rollerblader? The library has answers.

Are you looking for something fun to do? The library has a million good stories to share and fun programs just for kids. Do you have a bad case of the book report blues? The library can cure you — and show you all kinds of cool media to help with your homework.

Seattle Central Library, by Bobak Ha'Eri

Many ancient people revered learning and collected books and scrolls in libraries. In the great city of Ninevah in ancient Assyria, over 30,000 clay tablets have been discovered. They were once part of the Library of Ashurbanipal. Can you imagine having to check out your books in the form of heavy clay tablets? I hope you brought your camel to help carry them home!

Cuneiform tablet, by Fae

The most famous ancient library was in Alexandria, Egypt. This vast library featured lecture halls, meeting rooms, and gardens. It was a sad day for the world when this library burned down in a mysterious fire. 

Benjamin Franklin, painted by Jean Baptiste Greuze

The first public library in the United States was established in Franklin, Massachusetts. The town of Exeter had been re-named in honor of Benjamin Franklin, and the city asked Ben if he would like to donate a bell for the townhall. Since Ben felt that “sense” was more important than “sound,” he donated a collection of books  instead. And so began the first library in the New World.

Not far from Franklin, the city of Boston had the first pubic library with a special section just for children. The Children's Room, opened in 1895, placed more than 3,000 books within the reach of children’s small hands. The Boston Library also was the first to introduce storytellers in their Children’s Library.

Children's library books, by Trevor Mantemach

People of long ago would declare an “Eighth Wonder of the World” if they could see all the treasures available in your local library. And your library card is the “golden ticket” to all of this entertainment and information, all of the world’s best stories. 

Let’s book it on down to the public library today!   

Burlingame Library, by Kglavin

The End Is Near--Save the Books!

Forget toilet paper, duct tape, and beef jerky.

The apocalypse is coming. You need to stock up now. . .on books! And possibly a few shelves from IKEA for storage. Or maybe a lot of shelves. Hey, it's your future.

I figure that when the aliens spray us all with stupid-gas, we'll need to have some sense and sanity preserved in the pages of print books. (Kindle doesn't count. The aliens can scramble the signal.)

The end is near, my friends. The Stark Raving Mythopath recommends that you keep the following books where you can get at them at all times.

Emily Dickinson

After the Media Meltdown, in a world gone gray and non-specific,  you’ll need poetry to bring back the colors, images, and beauty. Poetry will restore the meaning in the mundane, the exotic richness of the commonplace. Keep some William Wordsworth, John Donne, Maya Angelou, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Emily Dickinson at arm's length.  In the Day of Darkness, you may need "a certain slant of light" to help you find your way.

When dust storms of fuzzy thinking assail, take shelter in collections of essays by J. B. Priestley, Lewis Thomas, Carl Sagan, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Dorothy Sayers, Douglas A. Hofstader. . . . And here’s the beauty of it. You can disagree! Judges on reality shows may tell you how to think, but good essayists invite you to enter into a dialogue with them. They want you to think—for yourself! I know. It's crazy. 

Ah, but when the killer bees of information overload attack--quick--through the wormhole (or rabbit hole) into a fantasy world where you can forget the facts and find the truth! A Wrinkle in Time. The Great Divorce. Lord of the Rings. Alice in Wonderland. The Book of the Dun Cow. It’s not escapism. It’s a way of getting to the very heart of what's real. (I love you, Charles Wallace!)


Earth falling into the sun? Overcome by a sudden surge of too much gravity? The only antidote is levity. You'll need humor by Mark Twain, Dave Barry, Garrison Keillor, Andy Rooney, and Erma Bombeck. This is no laughing matter. It's survival of the funniest.  

When the Video Vampires drink your dreams because you're not young, beautiful, and computer-savvy, turn off their tapioca transmissions and read novels. Peace Like a River, The Brothers Karamozov, The Number One Ladies' Detective Agency. Frederick Buechner's Godric. You can live thousands  of lives and gain wisdom in each one. When it comes to heroes, one size doesn't fit all, and your size is just right.

And don’t forget the children’s picture books! Babar and His Children. The Velveteen Rabbit. Where the Wild Things Are. Owl Moon. Madeleine. Anansi the Spider. The Fairy Tales of Oscar Wilde. . . . Feast on simplicity and pure delight. We didn't "grow out" of childhood--we were banished. And we need to get back before the Shadow Government condemns us to eternal adulthood. Yuck.

Feel free to make substitutions within these categories, but do stockpile the good stuff. How else will you feed your soul in the Day of Doom and Dimwittedness?

You may mock now, but when the aliens/zombies/major networks come to suck out your brains, you need to be prepared.

And don’t say I didn’t warn you!