The days of story-telling seem to have passed.
It really has to do with superficial degeneration and growth. By empowering the candy and leaving the bread to fend for itself, we are abandoning a rich heritage-to-be for today’s sugary high.
It’s a sign of the times, I suppose, that people grossly underestimate the importance of the written word. They have vocabularies of five hundred words (with F being every second one). They spell late ‘L8’ because their brains have become fried with false simplicity. They prefer icons to images because they are only able to digest the big bits.
Language, and especially the English language, is a rich tapestry – not a printed t-shirt. It lies on the floor in a heap going musty and decaying while the mindless crowd around their iPhones admiring the 640×480 snapshot of tomorrows forgotten yesterday.
We need Wordsworth and we need Dr Seuss.
We need Tolstoy and we need Enid Blyton.
We need Van Gogh and we need Charlie Brown.
We need bread and we need sugar.
But all too often, today's entertainment is sugar. Pure sugar.