Picture Books

I just finished Into the Wild, which was formidable and heartbreaking and sexy and informative, everything I want in a book.

Except pictures.

Are a few photos too much to ask, people? In this case, OK, maybe the family didn't want to publish them, but think of all the other pictureless books. I challenge you to name one nonfiction book that would not benefit from photographs. Really. Post a comment if you can think of one. You can't, can you? Ha. Didn't think so.

Hillary and Barack, McCain, other front-runners, if you're reading this, here's a plank for your platform: mandatory photos for nonfiction books. You'd have my vote. Also, higher salaries for teachers and lower ones for professional athletes and other entertainers. Also farm subsidies for organic growers. Alternative energy. Get out of Iraq. Health care for everyone.

Oh, Lord, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I try not to use the word never, so I'll say some of that stuff is, um, not going to happen. For every truth I see as painfully obvious, someone is exactly as convinced of the opposite. For every Daily Show I watch, there's a half-hour of, I don't know, the actual footage it makes fun of, soaking into someone's tender brain. And while I call things painfully obvious, I just mean to me--after all the books I've read, all the conversations I've had, the towns I've lived in, while other people grew up with different books, talks, and towns. So, a little scarily, "obvious" means nothing, nearly anyone can defend his convictions as well as I do mine, and everything, y'all, everything, is relative. The truth is always ours, no matter who "us" is.

Ha! All that from a tongue-in-cheek rant about photos in books. So I guess I've decided to laugh.