The End is Near, Strike that, Far

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Note: This was an essay I wrote in college, just after I bought my eReader, within the year they came out. So, it’s rather dated.
It is probably inaccurate as I didn’t do too much research. It was a weird atmosphere, people either loved or hated them, more people hated it. Mine is one of the first generation devices that Sony made. In fact, these ones need to be sent to Sony to be upgraded since the format of the ebooks is actually different from then.
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I have a Sony eReader. Some people think that it’s a ridiculous and absurd gadget. Some people think it’s blasphemous. Some people see it as the downfall of the written word. Others think downfall is too harsh, but that instead books have just sold out.

Maybe they haven’t said that. Maybe it’s just me.

But still, I am a happy and proud owner of a Sony Electronic Reader. Yes, I said proud.

Why are people surprised about the idea of a compact and easily portable book? There was no outcry over the iPod, iPod Nano, iPod Shuffle, iPod Video. Indeed people salivate over the next generation iPod.

Words take up even less room than music, but why is it only now that an eReader has been created? Amazon, too, is selling a portable reader, the Kindle. Who said irony was dead?

My eReader is much simpler than any music player, and the screen is only black and white, meaning it’s all shades of gray. In comparison to the iPod, an eReader is old technology. Well, save for the eInk (1).

Buttons numbering 0-9 line the right hand side. Each menu only lists up to nine things allowing for easy access, instead of using the arrow pad and select button in the center of said arrow pad. There are two sets of page turning buttons, and a magnifier button that increases text size, no more reaching for those reading glasses. There’s even bookmark button that dogears the pages of the book, by creating a dark gray triangle at the top right hand side. When reading the book there are options to read from the very beginning, where you last stopped reading (2), or you can go to the bookmark menu and read from pages that have been bookmarked.

But perhaps people needed the iPod to cushion the blow of losing their pages. True, music has never been a tangible thing. Even if one can read sheet music, which is universal, not everyone can hear it in their head exactly the same as it is supposed to sound. Each note has a set frequency, sound of a B flat is a B flat no matter what instrument its played on, or country the player is from.

Language, however, is a slippery messy business. Example: bed can mean a piece of furniture, a pallet, just some blankets, it can mean sleep, relaxation, privacy, sex, definitions go on and on. Not to mention the language barrier, “bed” means nothing to someone who doesn’t speak English. The meaning behind a book isn’t in the pages, it’s in the interpretation of the reader.

Sure, I love the smell of secondhand bookstores, dry, a little oily, and that darker muskier smell of leather. The crisp feel of new pages, or the softness found in well used pages of old books. And I smile a little when I finally break in the spine of a new book. The scratchy sound of rustling pages is, in a way, soothing.

But my arms don’t miss the soreness of holding up a book in front of me for hours. My fingers don’t need to stretch from losing circulation after curling over the top of the book when holding it from the back.

While there is no backlight on the eReader, I don’t have to readjust at every page to get the best light at night. Reading when on my side is comfortable now since there is no left hand page to turn my head to look at.

I may sound like a crotchety old fool in how I read, but when there’s an opportunity to read, and I read seriously, I’m lost for whole days, sometimes missing a meal…or three(3).

Books are pretentious. Some people have them just to look smart, without having read much more than the back cover. Some people read the classics in public to convey: “Look at me being better than you because I’m reading Moby Dick.”

Books can be heavy, and can take up a lot of room. Instead of carrying the collected works of one author in an ungainly tome, a person can carry a library in their pocket via memory card. Sharing is easier than ever, and there’s no worrying about never seeing it again. I’ve bought the same book three times(4). The first copy was never given back by a friend who moved, the second by a friend who lost it. The third, sitting on my shelf, may never leave my house.

eBooks should be getting cheaper. There’s no paper, printing, binding, shipping, or bookstore employees to pay for. There won’t be giant textbooks for students anymore, or the worry about gradeschoolers getting sclerosis.

There won’t be waiting for books at the library because someone else already checked it out.

Text is text no matter how the conveyance. If the apocalypse doesn’t come first, text is going to end up downloaded straight into the supercomputer of the brain. So, on the subway I’ll have to ask a person what they’re reading as opposed to just looking at the cover. God forbid people actually talking to eachother.

The eReader, Kindle, and whatever comes next isn’t the end of the world. Get over it.

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1. Electronic Ink is a physical reflective substance, instead of the ever refreshing computer screen. eInk lets me to read for hours without a headache, or splotchy vision.
2. The eReader remembers where you stopped without needing to bookmark it. And if it’s shut off on a page, when turned back on, that page loads automatically.
3. I have an obsessive personality.
4. The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman.

Published in: on April 15, 2010 at 11:40 am  Comments (1)  
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Muse Chronicles: Sly Polyhymnia

The second part of my poetic series, The Muse Chronicles.

Polyhymnia was the Muse of Rhetoric. She was said to have brought fame to those who invoked her to aid their writing.

Sly Polyhymnia consists of three poems, In Sooth, Dream and Reality. Dream is a new addition, Reality is an edited version of The Act.

In Sooth

Come, come hither
Under the sun, sit thee here

Lend thine curious ear
Well will thee be rewarded

For thine time
And pen

Sly Polyhymnia

Reality

Upon a thinking mind, I attach,
And organize the thoughts therein.
Trembling hands, a soft word: details to match,
Ignoring Her would be sin.
Such concepts even simple minds catch.

There is little to me,
Give me no countenance.
What I am, is nothing you can see.
I am of little substance,
And merely energy.

To the mind I find,
I give myself completely.
Leaving my old self behind
—without charging a fee,
Not even expecting to be repaid in kind.

Upon the mind, I inspire
Such great fire
That causeth many a buyer
To flock to the mire
Where I dwell

[Retire]

Published in: on April 22, 2008 at 5:55 pm  Leave a Comment  
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