Tales of Frustration in Search of Tall-tales.

 

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As a Christmas gift I received a NOOK, yes, one of those e-reader things I swore I’d never want, something I always regarded as the mark of the beast- an unnatural, evil nemesis to timeless, paper books. However, once I got this electronic library into my hands, I developed an uncanny desire for tall-tales. You know what I’m talking about, giants, princesses, dragons, talking trees, shape-shifters, magic carpets, enchanted forests and palaces that belong to ancient gods whose names usually end in “us” or “ios”…

In short, I embarked on a search for good yarns. However, little did I know that on this quest, my childhood innocence would be ruthlessly culled by senseless erotica involving every one of my cherished creatures from gargoyles to elves. Seriously, what is wrong with people that they write a novel dripping with pornographic scenes and label it “fantasy” so that some ten-year-old kid can randomly stumble upon it and ask their mother what on Middle-Earth is the fairy princess doing to Puff the Magic Dragon’s tail?

I miss the good old days when R-rated books were separated from the rest and given a cautionary warning that read: “May have contents foul, perverse and at best, very awkward.” I would sincerely appreciate having such a warning on my NOOK so that the next time I search for books about “mermaids” I don’t encounter The Erotic Tales of Ariel the Sex-fiend in some dark corner of the magic forest.

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