Life After Books

So we've lost books.

You've probably seen this coming for a while now. It's hard to deny the grip of technology. This is a blog after all. I'm being broadcast into the world via said technology. I, and that is to say this blog, am dependent on technology.

But what does that mean?

I was speaking to a friend not long ago about reading. He informed he that he didn't much care for it. Apart from the initial reevaluation of our friendship, I felt sad. I asked him why and his answer troubled me even more--books are old--if it's important, it will be on the internet.

So I learned two things from our conversation: 

1) My friend does read, but only what is on his computer.

2) Books are endangered species. 

I've known this for a while. I've worked at a library. I've seen that an overwhelming number of patrons are not checking out books. They're using the computers. They're checking out movies and music. 

Books are old. Books are heavy. They hurt your eyes. 

THEY'RE BAD FOR THE ENVIRONMENT.

Valid points.

But, damnit--I love books. I love holding books. You don't have to plug a book in.

etc., etc.

It's gotten to the point that society is driven by technology. Our lives are accompanied by the machines in our pockets. 

I may sound overly critical. 

Don't get me wrong--I'm all for technology. That machine in my pocket has saved my skin quit a few times, thank you very much.

But are we losing something to this technology? Some primal ability, some patience--maybe a few seconds off the attention span? 

It's harder to agree on what that lost thing is. I suppose it might be something different for everyone. 

And here I probably sound a little sentimental, because--well--it just seems appropriate. We are talking about the end of a major medium of information. How can you not be a little sad? Books have been boss numero uno for centuries. And by books here, I of course am referring not specifically to the hard-bound fiction/nonfiction novel of the last two hundred years, but rather the instilling of information via ink onto a surface of parchment, usually composed of wood pulp, the possession of which (as in, holding the "book") instilling within the possessor a feeling of personalization, not only with the information presented, but also with the media it is presented upon.

I'm finished with college. Perhaps this is a tad over-dramatic for that reason. I can't help but feel like the reading and writing I do from now on will be for my own sake and not for the approval of a class or GPA. There is a certain responsibility to the craft that can be found in this new part of my life. 

So that may be it for books, but there are more chapters yet.