"The story of my assassins" by Tarun J.Tejpal

Page 5 : " I waited - as the icons lined themselves up at the top and bottom of the screen, like two teams of toofball players before the start of a match. After the great era of literacy, the world was going back to the pre-literate stage. For centuries , there had been the hunt to find a word for every image, every sensation, every feeling, now, we were working at finding an image for every word, every sensation, every feeling. Advertising, television, cinema, photography, computers, mobiles, graphics, animatronics - every thing is geared to turn the squiggle of the word into the splendour of image !

Across the globe, Photoshop Picassos crouched at their machines marrying unlike images to produce such unlikely images as no word could hope to withstand. The imagination now longer needed to word to negotiate its darkets recesses. The imagination having its most fantastical meanderings served up in prefabricated images, for all to share ! Our Mordor was the same. Our Frankenstein ws teh same . Our Tinker Bell was the same. We didn't have to Davy Jones - the graphics company in Silicon Valley was manufacturing him for us. We all picked our visuals from the univarsal pool. The individual monster was dead. private passion ws dead. Personal grief was dead. Ager was an icon. Love , an image. Sex, an organ. The future , a matrix. If you could imagin it or feel it, it would be shown to you - in any colour, from every angle - without the exertions of the word. Even God would , finally, be shrunk to size. No larger than the screen. No denser than a pixel.
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