A book is an end in itself.
No one can like or dislike us for opening it. They can tweet it out their ass. A book never needs upgrading. It doesn’t self-lock. You agree no terms to buy it. You untick no box, open no account, sign no contract, receive no mail, reveal no whereabouts. Nobody will come in a year’s time to make you pay for it again. It is a universe which you carry in your hand and open at the speed of your nature, again and again, for ever. It belongs to you alone and is under your control. It has a smell, a texture, a colour, a style, and three organic dimensions. It teaches of, and for, and against all the things you choose it to, and is a human right whose loss would be an end to freedom. Because when every battery is in enemy hands, and all our little screens are dead – it will speak for you a thousand years more, and wear your stains upon it.
Stain these books.