In the old days, story tellers before me would spew their muse before the fire, each line perfect in the worst way, uneditable, unretractable! What style! What theater! What perfect muse! Each line cast fresh to their audience, perfect and enchanting. They didn't have cut and paste, just what came from their thoughts, their minds!
Now in the 21st century we can easily reforge words, edit and auto-spell; with but a touch of a button a thesauruses bigger than that Pyramid of Cheops is at my beck and call.
Edgar! Kurt! I am humbled. What stories you told with out such things! Imagine what visions you could have brought in our modern age? No, seriously, that would be some scary ass shit. P'raps it's a good thing you were hampered in your day. You two would have us screaming in the streets, running wild with terror from the crap you'd come up with.
This is why I believe in Creation. If God had let Kurt Vonnegut and Edgar Allen Poe internet access, there'd be some funky shit going down that I don't think we could handle. This is God putting on the brakes because some dangerous ass corners are up ahead and He does not want our little minds blown trying to ride them funky waves, you grok my speak?
But imagine, if you will, if it was willy-nilly, that there was no higher power, and that guys like Vonnegut and Poe had access to the World Wide Web and they could just cut lose.
The Mayan calendar would be the least of our worries.
So, you all better pray that there is a God.