He was the anointed one,
And the literati decided,
Agreed,
Confirmed,
This book was his finest work yet,
Prognosticated as:
“The best book you will read this year,”
Though it was only June,
Though it was generally agreed “the best” was an anachronism.
After all,
Did they really believe the future could be so blanketed,
So predictable,
So immutable?
The book vendors ordered dutifully,
Feverishly,
Inspired by so many reverential author interviews,
So certain this was indeed the next big thing.
Who am I?
Who are we to belittle such pronouncements?
Such hysteria?
So I,
So we dutifully purchased the book in droves,
Eager to possess the sacred knowledge,
The newly christened insight,
The talisman,
Ready to verify the conclusions of the cognoscenti,
Ready to approach the godhead and be blessed,
Though by page 83 most of us stopped reading,
Already full of enough dispirited angst
To last a lifetime,
Our purchases already having confirmed the acclaim,
The acclaim of the marketplace
Bestowed on all such highly strung best sellers,
So infrequently read to conclusion,
So soon forgotten.
~ Russ Allison Loar
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