The Book Every human endeavour with any cultural impact attracts its share of philistines. Catolicism has the pope. Protestants have the televangelists. Buddhism has those idiots trying to sell you crudely mass produced Buddha miniatures. Books are no different. They call it the
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The mentality is pervasive, everybody is convinced that, uh-oh, you can make the world's best omlet, without marketing it's useless, you can write Pulizer articles, without distribution they're wasted and so forth. Anyone willing to fill their house with kitschy statuettes, stuff their bellies with synthetic lard and blow their load in a plastic mold of Tera Patrick (tm) is welcome to do so. Some will continue to eat real food, enjoy real art and mate with real people. And, ocasionally, write real books. A few brave ones will even put their derision for the