Thoughts on E-Readers
Many of the important things of my life are intangible: That is, they’re digital.
Thousands of family pictures never made it to the printing kiosk at Wal-Mart, but they’re stored neatly on my hard drive.
The blog entries I’ve painstakingly written on topics like my menial job, to current events and bus rides are kept within WordPress’ servers.
Much of the contact I have with my friends and family is electronic, saved on my Facebook page.
The music I listen to is kept on a small, plastic device protected by a shealth of rubber, accessible through some wires and a plug.
Although I can interact with these things on a faily consistent basis (provided that Wi-Fi is as plentiful as air), they wouldn’t do me much good on a deserted island or even during a power outage. This increasing level of disconnect from meaningful things has spread to my most treasured possession: Knowledge.
I’ll never own an E-Reader. No Kindle, no Papyrus, no Sony Reader, no sir–not for me.
I like being able to feel the pages beneath my fingers and underline with a regular yellow pencil (none of this “stylus” with a rubber tip and pixelated drawing lines). I take comfort in knowing that my book can soak up a few drops of my morning coffee and shield my head in a brief dash through rain. I’m more financially (and environmentally) responsible for spending $3 on a used copy of Republic than for hundreds on a fragile, technologically advanced gadget.
And I like being able to impress guests by lining my shelves with difficult-looking books.
Filed under: General Commentary | Tags: Amazon, book, e-reader, Facebook, Kindle, Papyrus, Sony, Wal-Mart, Wi-Fi
Many of the important things of my life are intangible: That is, they’re digital.
Thousands of family pictures never made it to the printing kiosk at Wal-Mart, but they’re stored neatly on my hard drive.
The blog entries I’ve painstakingly written on topics like my menial job, to current events and bus rides are kept within WordPress’ servers.
Much of the contact I have with my friends and family is electronic, saved on my Facebook page.
The music I listen to is kept on a small, plastic device protected by a shealth of rubber, accessible through some wires and a plug.
Although I can interact with these things on a faily consistent basis (provided that Wi-Fi is as plentiful as air), they wouldn’t do me much good on a deserted island or even during a power outage. This increasing level of disconnect from meaningful things has spread to my most treasured possession: Knowledge.
I’ll never own an E-Reader. No Kindle, no Papyrus, no Sony Reader, no sir–not for me.
I like being able to feel the pages beneath my fingers and underline with a regular yellow pencil (none of this “stylus” with a rubber tip and pixelated drawing lines). I take comfort in knowing that my book can soak up a few drops of my morning coffee and shield my head in a brief dash through rain. I’m more financially (and environmentally) responsible for spending $3 on a used copy of Republic than for hundreds on a fragile, technologically advanced gadget.
And I like being able to impress guests by lining my shelves with difficult-looking books.