I Love Books. I truly do. So when I learn that children today are attending libraries to be indoctrinated by transgender, transsexual or cross dressing “ entertainers “ I somehow feel that kids are victims of theft.
When I learn that books are being promoted in libraries that encourage sexual fantasy and deviancy in young children, I feel outraged.
This precious and irreplaceable learning experience, this wonder of books and the magic of the written word, the joy of imagination – it is being stolen and stifled by those who want to sexualise, politicise and poison young minds to such an extent that they will never have the love of a library like so many of us older folk do.
When I was a child, my parents took me to the library once a fortnight. It was one of the most exciting and wonderful days of my calendar and those visits began my lifelong love of the written word, the world of endless magic and the treasure trove that lay within its walls.
Today, children are taken to the library and sat down by their parents to be taught what to think, not how to think. Please! Let them explore their own imaginations!
They are missing the magic of discovery that a Library used to bring: free of adult interference and disruption of the development of their sense of SELF.
As a child, my library books were carefully chosen. By me.
There was no need to have my parents check if the book was suitable. We knew it would be.
Today? I would not trust the Librarian to recommend a tail on a donkey for fear of being " sold " a book about a gay transgender rainbow unicorn fighting climate change while escaping rampaging hoardes of racist white Trump voters who don't believe in unicorns anyway.
Yes, it has gotten that bad.
I much prefer to close my eyes and go back in time.... almost like a ritual of magnificent solemnity, I would examine the titles, pick up a few and decide if the book “ felt right. “
It may be the title, the cover or a random emotion that it simply had a certain something about it. Either way, it mattered not. Those wondrous moments at the library were almost as important as my attendance to Sunday School and Church – such reverence did I feel.
One thing I loved about the library as a child was the silence. I grew up in the country so silence was something that I was accustomed to – but it was a different kind of silence: a silence that one only really feels in a place of worship.
I stopped going to the library when Covid broke out because I was banned. Not vaccinated, you see. Apparently, I was not safe to be around people or books.
I never got back into the habit. But I still think back to those days and the days I haunted the musty, dusty Aladdin’s Caves that are Second-hand bookshops or libraries in reverence as places of joy beyond measure.
As my eyesight began to be less sharp, I gravitated to the big print sections and felt somewhat bereft that my choices of “ fix “ were less expansive than they once were. Yet, when I found that tome and opened the cover to the first page, I seemed to revert to my child like self and cuddle up with a new friend and prepare to be swept away into somewhere I had never visited before.
As I grew older, the library became a place of fellowship – a place where I met up with fellow book lovers and a place to laugh and chat and pass the time of day. I no longer chose a book based on its cover or title – I tended to choose because of the author or a recommendation from a fellow library enthusiast.
The library is much like my books now – a thing of distant memory. Oh, I tried reading E-Books but it just isn't the same. They don't feel right. They don't smell right. I couldn't hold the book. Press it to my cheek or quietly mark the page, close it and then snuggle up in bed and wonder what might happen next.
Redhead has a big box of my favourite books in her garage. The number of nights I have longed to retrieve one and open its well worn pages and start reading the words again for the umpteenth time.... but it will not happen. My reading days in the form of a book are over. I only hope that one day, a grand child or great grandchild will open one and feel that same sense of excitement as I did when I read those captivating opening words.
Whether it be the " In a hole in the ground lived a hobbit .. " or " The small boys came early to the hanging.” the joy I felt opening a new book was thrilling.
Books are such a great place to turn to, aren't they? How I miss them. perhaps that is why I now write.
Still, I have at least got that wonderful memory of the childhood cherished delight of a library as a place of sanctuary, safety and self.
In the library of my childhood, in many respects, I developed who I have grown up to be. I developed my love of history; my love of Science Fiction; my love of Fantasy and my love of Words.
My library, as a child, DID have a profound effect upon my development as an adult. I feel a tragic and quiet outrage that children today are having their childhoods stolen from them by a manipulative movement that is using them as pawns in a political strategy hell bent on turning these young minds and bodies into pliable and vulnerable victims of a perverse and dangerous game of chess: where the Queen can take the King.
In an episode of the once great Doctor Who: “ You want weapons? We're in a library. Books are the best weapon in the world. This room's the greatest arsenal we could have. Arm yourself! “
No wonder “ they” want to destroy the library magic. “ They” are turning the library into a place of indoctrination and deviance.
Surely Benjamin Franklin did not intend this?
I cannot help but end with this quote:
|" What a school thinks about its library is a measure of what it feels about education.”
― Harold Howe
What we, as a Society, allow to happen in our libraries, is a measure of how we feel about our children.
Parents? What have you to say to this?
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