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When I was but a wee lad, I attempted to borrow a selection of Stephen King novels from the local public library. One librarian asked my dear old mother if she lets me read stuff like that, so I launched into a quick diatribe about how boring I found the six-words-to-a-page dross they normally inflict upon children here. I hope Paul Jennings burns in hell, incidentally - if there isn't one, I am going to make one especially for him.
If we let those miserable fundy blobs of scum tell us and our children what we can read, I suspect the suicide rate among grade-school children would leap into previously unknown bounds. The manner in which schoolteachers in particular confuse "child" with "retard" is nothing short of shocking. I'm still wondering what sort of adults the kids that have been raised on rubbish like Barney et al will turn into. It's not going to be a pretty picture.
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