I frankly don't understand people who buy books ; I've tried using one recently and it was an appaling experience. There's no full text search ; there's no copy-paste ; there's no implicit link I can drag into a terminal to cat-pipe with it. What the fuck is even the point of pretending the bitmap's like text ? It's not like text, it's not even remotely, not vaguely, not anything even slightly similar. Printed matter is exactly like the handywork of those morons who link screenshots of webpages to "show you" : simply dysfunctional, and to a comedic extent.
And besides, if you're going to delve into ahistoric past, why pick that particular anachronism ? Why not read Fraktur off cured dead pets' pelts directly, like 900ish Capuchin monk
eys ? Go like they went, .8 words per second, spend an hour per page and a lifetime with a single "book", what diagonal reading of whole pages in blinks of an eye, who has any need for that! Then perhaps wonder in amazement as to why exactly your "manner of thinking" starts developing similarities to long expired farts' nonsense, why not. If everything looks like a nail to the man holding a hammer sure as fuck everything looks just about like the 20th century to the man reading printed paper. How the fuck else could it look, on that premise ; and haven't you had quite enough of that derpy indistinct century already ?
Or maybe it's just because God did it. Maybe the reason you end up retracing the history of idiots whenever you limit yourself to the tools and usages and usances and conventions of idiots is that they were right all along, huh. Do you suppose if you spent your days subsistence hunting and your nights sleeping for lack of artificial lighting you'd believe in the great wolf spirit and have annual festivals of being a fucking stone age primitive ? Or would it also be a case of "clearly, this is right -- as proven by the fact that it self-replicates in similar contexts". Fleas and lice are just as right for just about the same reason, you know, maybe all those medieval bloodletting doctors were right as well!
But be all that as it may : to spread the joy of suffering an' share torment with the group, can you tell me where's this from ?
A question lately arose about the refurnishing of the house. On their return from a visit to [...] the ladies took it into their heads that the parlors looked bare and old-fashioned, and it was decided by them in secret conclave that a change was necessary.
"What!" said he, in a towering passion, "isn't it enough that you spend your time and money in vinegar to sour sweet peaches, and your sugar to sweeten crab-apples, that you must turn the house you were born in topsy-turvy? God help us! we've a house with windows to let the light in, and you want curtains to keep it out; we've plastered the walls to make them white, and now you want to paste blue paper over them; we've waxed floors to walk on, and we must pay [...] a [...] for a carpet to save the oak plank! Begone with your nonsense, ye demented jades!"
No ? Why not, you don't really need machine-indexes and all that fanciful numeric crap, do you ? Your memory's good enough for you, and what else nonsense, God's will.