Cut and Paste

I wish I could “cut” all the books in my shelf and “paste” them on my brain so I wouldn’t have to go through the tedious task of book reading. My habit of collecting second hand books from Booksale makes my solitary shelf the Alexandria of our garaged-turned bedroom. My wife is no longer amused by the clutter of “The Great Deluge”, “The Coming Plague”, “Problematic”, I mean “Systematic Theology”, “The Destiny of Man”, “Then Shall Come the End”, etc.

“Why am I being punished like this?” the wife said.

“What?”

“You know what!”

“I don’t know what.”

“Could you please look at your book shelf. What is it telling you?”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that”

“That, my dear wife, is the very evidence of our existence. A neat and tidy bedroom means no one is living in it” I lectured while peering through the pages of “My Other Life” by Paul Theroux.

“Are you kidding me? You see the meaning of existence out of this clutter?” the wife beamed.

There’s a certain degree of knowing between husband and wife in marriage. It goes with the number of years being together. I know exactly when not to pursue an argument or else I would have to make my own cup of coffee. Deep within I agree with her. My books are a mess. Which brings me back to my first statement here – I wish I could cut and paste them all in my head.

Why couldn’t I? Of course there’s the barrier between human and non-human, but really, I wish some nerd out there could finally invent the technology for this. That would make my life easy and my wife happy. Imagine I can just Ironman-gaze at these books and “KAZZZUUMMM!” everything is downloaded in my memory. Everything would be there like,

“All rights reserved.

Copyright © 1993 by Jerry Seinfeld

Cover photos copyright © 1993 by Annie Leibovitz.

Library of Congress Catalog Card No: 93-14467

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher”

Or this.

“ISBN 0-553-57313-6

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA”

I won't mind if my left eye flutters uncontrollably everytime I scan these data’s, or that my tongue slithers in and out my lips each time I read an item there. I won't mind looking stupid at all just so I could have the luxury of cutting and pasting these books in my head.

I know the whole idea would make me a lazy slob but I won't mind the bargain. Isn’t that what is happening in modern life? I mean look at all things. We use to embark on a long journey to a nearby river just so we could have water to cook our food and wash our clothes. Now, all we have to do is turn the faucet on.

We have fantastic toilet bowls that either flushes or vacuum out the dirt from our asses. And for that, I wish too, they could add an electronic hand that, you know, could slide through the bottom to wipe it clean. And while you’re on the throne, how about two electronic elbows from both sides, popping out, complete with hands and fingers, putting on toothpaste and brushing your teeth?

Yes, I’m asking too much here. Humanity still values physical exertion of some kind. At least you’ll flip your thumb repeatedly when the light switch is broken, and pound it with your fist when the Christmas-light-bulb flips you out completely. Or that toilet bowls require you to actually sit on it, and that the 900 channels in your remote control will surely beat the lame muscles in your forearm.

There’s a pampering effect about modern technology. The easy life it breeds makes us less patient and less forgiving. The Claudine Baretto showdown may be a case in point. She expected the efficient modern airline system to place her baggages on the expected spot. When a glitch occurred, Baretto reacted and Pandora’s Box flipped wide open to the consternation of all involved but to the glee of scoop-hungry media.

Now, about my books. Well, it would do me enormous good to just clean up the mess.