bewitched
Londoners whipped themselves up into a broomstick frenzy as 5th HP flew all over the air on the summer solstice--the longest day of the year. 'Tis all very magical; if our ancestors treated church visits or scaffold deaths as important public events, purchasing the latest Harry Potty at the struck of midnight seemed to be the modern ritual, the Bible that everyone had to carry in order to speak the same cultural dialect. Yesterday already saw two carry the 1.3 kg on the tube, another one excitingly turned the first few pages in the park. How about gadget whiz HY? Was wondering if he might buy it from Tesco or download the text on his nifty Palm? An exclamation mark at the end of a sentence this morning, telling me he got HP off the Internet. That naughty Puck might have sighed, "Lord, what fools these mortals be?" is pretty understandable. Maybe a link to my dissertation: How interesting it is that 'enchantment' and 'reading that inspires imagination' plays such a favourable role in our daily hard-headed lives--with a little playfulness, reality isn't too bad after all?
Cannot help to add a dose of sarcasm...