is this what was meant?

Is this what was meant. The power of imagination trampled, As we stare into TV sets. Books are bought for their covers, Put in their place and never read. Life is seen through a periscope of screens, The adventure few will feel. Computers and their games pushed out, What we once all knew as real. Luxuries were handcrafted to be durable, Now they’re produced both worn and torn, Magazines were once edifying and classy, They’re now mediums of hardcore-soft-porn. Conversations are ancient fables, The muted beats of keyboards now reign. Dinner tables are now dinner couches, And the concept of eye-to-eye is now inane. Our adventures are seen by the unsocial masses, And scrolled over without care.

do schools kill creativity?

I can only hope, pray and wish upon a star that everyone will listen to the words of Sir Ken Robinson, words that are wiser than any other in modern history. Philosophical sensibility. A prophet who deserves listening ears.

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As a shameless opportunist, I'm going to use this footer area to remind you that I am a NUMBER 1 BEST-SELLING author, which means  you should probably go and buy my books, or my super-duper-rubbish artwork, or at least very least come back every 6 months to make all this sort of worthwhile. (I realise this totally contradicts the self-deprecating message of my website, but my imaginary agent said I should put it down as an afterthought. So I have. Happy now imaginary agent?)