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It was just under a week ago that I went to a Jazz festival in San Francisco. I was listening to the postmodern funk from a nearby stage and mingling amongst the people in my general surroundings when I struck a conversation with a girl about writing. The words spoken between the two of us were going well until she said something that stained the very center of my soul, leaving me still trying to wash it out.

"Books are a dying art" she said.

I did not find this statement insulting, but rather a call to arms. If this is only slightly true, all of us are in the middle of a war. A war started by carbon copy action movies, "Franklin & Bash," KFC's Double Down, fear driven media propaganda, "Hey Soul Sister," TMZ, and everything else that is drying out the beauty and essence of our gift of cognitive thought. 

It is time to fight back. Let us not sit idly as we are consumed by the nothingness that surrounds us. Let us shoot down the Michael Bays by firing 50 caliber Woody Allens. Let us throw molotov cocktails filled with The Jazzual Suspects at The Top 40. We must make a move before all of our homes and personal freedoms are invaded by the army of Hello Kitty Snuggies

Once more into the breach, dear friends. I will stand at combat ready, armed with William S. Burroughs and Mary Anne Sadlier. Will you?