BOOKS I HAVEN'T READ or "Wallowing In Shelf Pity"

I like books.

They make me feel smart – why just look at the shelf behind me, which holds dozens of them! I must be quite the edified young gentleman!

They generally have words and/or pictures in them (often both at the same time, though let’s not go down that particular wormhole), both of which I tend to enjoy.

They’re an excellent source of conversation, provided you’re able to converse with the random eighty year old retiree or sixteen-year-old hipster who’s still into reading.

In fact, I’d go as far as saying they’re foundational to our very culture. I know I’m out on a limb, here. Don’t believe me? Matthew Lesko knows what I'm talking about.

I like books so much that I actually buy them. That may not sound like a big deal, but keep in mind that I steal most forms of entertainment.*

I also don’t like books.**

They’re long and/or shitty (often both at the same time, though let’s not go down that particular wormhole).

They’re heavy and fragile (incidentally, this is also how I would describe Newt Gingrich), making them quite the effort to read anywhere but my couch.

How often have you heard someone describe how great a book is, with the qualifier that you have to painfully slog through 200 pages of boring to get to the good stuff? Where else is that generally accepted logic? I hear Charles Mulligan’s Steakhouse has a great filet mignon, but first you have to eat a bowl of hobo stew made out of calico cat and old paint rags.

My point:  I like books enough to buy them, but dislike them enough that I hardly read them. And I suspect you, dear reader, feel similarly (unless you’re my Dad). After conducting extensive research***, I believe that one in three books has been cracked open just long enough to read the author’s dedication to their significant other, wonder how attractive the author’s significant other is (after all, he loves her enough to ignore her and spend years on a guide to the fishes of the Marshall Islands), and then place it neatly between the Dan Brown novels occupying most of our collective bookshelves.

A selection of my own books that I have not read:

• Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell – Set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, this erotic thriller finds our hero, Billy, and a ragtag band of human survivors rebelling against their new half-robot, half-angel overlords. Are Billy et al. the foundation of a new human civilization, or are they just outliers?

• White Noise by Don DeLillo – In this workplace comedy, Veronica and Leslie are middle managers at Soundulon Inc., the world’s leading manufacturer of background sounds. Can they snag a huge new sales account from the Sharper Image, yet still balance their friendship and respective love lives?

• The Art & Craft ofPlaywriting by Jeffrey Hatcher – A semi-autobiographical fantasy epic from noted dramatist Hatcher (née William Shakespeare). The title character must vanquish all manner of mythical foes in order to keep the realm from falling into dark hands, all while struggling to get his new play ready for a workshop production.

Now that you know what you’re missing out on, I expect you’re rushing to your local Borders Bookstore. Well, I’ve got bad news for you. Thanks, Obama.****

My advice? Give up on books. Instead, please follow me here on my new web log – I even give you permission to colloquially refer to it as a blog.

Welcome.

* Just kidding, law enforcement community.

** I’m quite the enigma.

*** This is a lie.

**** Now I’ve got the right wing on my side and I’m sure to be successful.