The pleasure in reading

They continue to tumble through the electronic letterbox, books, books on books.  

Is everyone out there writing ?
Perhaps it's mankind's last refuge, writing about the chaos which is all around and which, whilst we now know about it, blow for blow, we also know we can't do a damn thing about it.

Books on economics, books on the part water has played in the history of China, the demise of the Church of England, gun crime in America, the secrecy of the State, and so it goes on. I'm sure many of you would throw up your hand and say "who cares" but it is a fairly recent phenomena, that so many people are writing.

Intellectualising the world around is for some a game for others a pure waste of time but for the chosen few it's their "life force" as they try to come to terms not only with their own lives but the lives of others.
It's a question of how seriously do you mentally venture out into the world or do you rather stay secure at home with only the occasional foray into the "twitter sphere" or "face book".
The content of a normal "tweet" is a few words. It's more an 'aside' than a statement, a retort than a fashioned argument. It's substance is limited by the words, both in number and quality, it limits the depth of engagement to a cursory line and if not, downright abusive, has little to say. It's safe because it reveals so little of you and there is a need these days for anonymity.
Cultural anthropology needs words, it needs language and rhetoric it needs construction and it needs the courage to speak.
We learn by pondering not blindly accepting. We learn by questioning but the questions only have little more than the localised merit, if we confine ourselves to a "twitter" account.
If we wish to engage rather in a world we know little about I would argue that books still bring the best source material. The TV screen is too fleeting, too cursory too much in a rush to capture the next audience.
The silent book, waiting patently, full of information, humour and pathos is a far better companion as the cold winter nights draw in.