Dear Kindle Readers,
How am I supposed to know what you’re reading? And therefore, how am I supposed to know if you’re smart? Or shallow? How am I supposed to strike up a conversation without being able to say, “Oh, I read that”?
(I guess I could try it anyway. And then try to bullshit my way through it when you say in response: “Oh, really? You read Everything You Need to Know About Elephants and Your 18th Century British Trading Company?”)
How am I supposed to know if you’re someone I want to date?
I mean, come on, I already can’t see you walking down the street and judge you by the music on your boombox. Further into our relationship, I can’t walk into your apartment and check out your record collection, or even your cassette tapes, or your cds.
And now I can’t judge you by your book cover?!? This. is. tragic. This is a catastrophe for the modern world.
I mean, yes, you probably wouldn’t have spent $189.00 on a digital reading device if you aren’t a so-called “reader.” And yes, with a Kindle, I too could avoid being judged when I want to read trash in public. (And sometimes a girl needs to read a little trash. Why else do you think we get haircuts so often and it takes us so long?)
But what about when I’m reading something smart? How will you know I’m intellectual and hip if you can’t see that I’ve got a sustainable food narrative in my hands? That I’m scholarly and literary if you can’t see the frayed edges of my well-loved Aeneid? That I’m sensitive and artistic if Collected Poems isn’t typeset across my book cover?
I mean, seriously, what’s next? Do I have to judge you based solely on whether or not you have a fixed-gear bicycle? What’s going to happen to all the New Yorker readers when it stops printing hard copies? Will they have to wear name tags to identify themselves to one another as being fit for cultural conversation?
Will we all stop wearing clothing so I won’t even be able to judge you by the stitching on your jeans pockets???
Say it ain’t so,
MM






