The beginning of the end

I've just purchased one of those voice recognition software applications, and am now using it to write this entry. A person's mouth tends to move faster than their fingers, which-in this case-could prove most useful, or fatal. The poet e.e. Cummings was renowned for his stream of consciousness creativity. It remains to be seen whether this and future entries are deemed pearls of wisdom, or verbal diarrhea ...

There was a time when teenagers used to write one another love letters ... by hand ... with a pen. Young men and women struggled to emulate Gustave Flaubert, as they vainly tried to find "Le Mot Juste", in the effort to to impress the object of their affection, however misplaced. Now a quick IM, or poorly spelled email, seems to suffice. Command of the English language is no longer a prerequisite of interpersonal communication. The ability to use words to express feeling, intent, or any other mental or emotional state seems obsolete. We now have smiling faces for that: the ubiquitous Smileys.

If we haven't done so already, we're about to experience the answer to a question which we will regret not having asked earlier - the question being "What happens when a whole generation is absolved of any responsibility to develop creative writing skills?"

When was the last time you received a handwritten letter from a friend or family member? Are you able to name four shows on television that are undeniably well written? … Have you written a poem lately?

People used to write essays, poetry, and keep journals. They didn't seek publication, merely a private and codified venue for their expressions. You might, and not too inaccurately, claim that Blogs are today's journals and essays. However, this is only half of the battle won. It is one thing to express a desire to write down one's feelings and thoughts; to record one's observations and opinions. It is quite another to have them read.

If you are one of the millions who currently keep an online web log, I would like to ask what balance of your time is spent reading other people's Blogs; when was the last time you read a quality piece of literature? I'm not speaking of the latest issue of Vanity Fair, but a bona fide novel with well structured characters.

I'm just as pitiful an example of this entropic trend as the next person. So let's all take a few moments to wear sackcloth and ashes, beat our chests, and loudly proclaim “Mea culpa ”.

Now, I'm off to read a book.