I like to read. I’ve been known to devour entire volumes in a 24 hour period. However, I must admit it’s been a few years since I’ve sat back with a good book. With the leaves on the trees turning color and that nip in the air, I decided it was time to pick up an old favorite. Edgar Allen Poe’s, The Murders in the Rue Morgue.
In less than five minutes of cracking the book open, I put it down. I adjusted how I was sitting. I checked my cell phone to see if I had any text messages. I sighed, there were none. I adjusted myself and tried again. Wow, my thumb nail looked really awful. There were splits near the tip...I got up and filed my thumb nail. I sat back down in my comfy chair with my faux fur blanket and tried to start again…
‘The mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in themselves, but little susceptible of analysis’. ‘Ana-lytical’, I thought. Isn’t that what Mila Kunis and Aston Kutcher are going to name their daughter? What an absurd name! Like ‘Apple’ or ‘Ketchup’. Or is it ‘Catsup’? Well then you could call her Cat...Wait a minute! What was happening here? Why couldn’t I focus?
Look at this passage! Who could read this stuff? ‘…I am not now writing a treatise, but simply prefacing a some-what peculiar narrative by observations very much at random; I will, therefore, take occasion to assert that the higher powers of the reflective intellect are more decidedly and more usefully tasked by the unostentatious game of draughts than by all the elaborate frivolity of chess.’
Wanna know who could read that stuff? I DID. TWICE! Now I can’t even sit still to get through the first few sentences! Oh. My. God. When did this happen? Did I have a stroke? Have brain cells literally turned to tapioca? Is it a peri-menopausal side effect? AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
No people, I have developed the social media brain numbing condition that I call…’The Dumbing’. My attention span is no longer mature enough to read literature. If it’s longer than 140 characters…the brain begins to wander.
Exhausted and depressed, I put the book down. I turned on the TV just in time to catch a new show called ‘Selfie’.
The Kardashians have nothing to do with the show. But to me it seems like a Kardashian version of ‘My ‘Fair Lady’. I can hear Kim Kardashian pitch it to TV producers (read in a nasal tone). ‘Like…you know that moo-vay where that rich old guy… (pause to let her brain reboot)…Is this like ‘real’ leather furniture? You know like from that…leather animal? Because, like, I can’t sit on synthetic fibers…(back to reality) oh that rich old guy like turns a homeless flower child into a re-ality star? But, like then to repay him like OMG she has to marry him! Well, like my idea is basically the same but like make him young and hot! And then like…make her hot…but like a loser. You know, like my sister Khloe? Make everyone young! And hot! Make it modern because like the past is so yesterday. And they work for a cool company where like everyone is young…and hot.’
I lost 30 minutes of my life in an inane stupor. I was astounded. This is what the 18 – 24 demographic relates to? Sex, vomit, cell phones, and stupid but young and hot people?
I picked up Poe. I’m going to sit on my real leather sofa made from that leather animal, wrapped in my faux fur blanket made from real faux, and finish that damn book. #Likebynextfall.