I swear to Holy Bleeding God that the next time I read a writer mewling out an “Oh noes!! The book market is changing! Weesa all gonna die!” message somewhere on the Internet, I’m going to track that writer down and beat them square on the head with a goddamn lead pipe. Honestly. Die already, then, you whiny, puffed-up, hand-wringing, passive, self-privileging sack of complaint and vomit.
I hear the monks are still plotting their revenge over the death of the Illuminated Manuscript too.