Brand Name Bookshops Popular Among People Who Don't/Can't Read Well

As a relatively well-read individual, assuming you are one--if you have reached this far in your reading of this sentence without quitting and diverting your attention to the umpteenth viewing today of the latest in the "I can haz cheezburger" phenomenon, then perhaps you are capable of being a well-read individual--do you ever get the feeling each time you visit a Barnes and Noble or a Borders that something false is a-dwelling, and no, I'm not referring to certain booksellers who think that H.D. is a television set; booksellers who believe that "As I Lay Dying" is only the name of some god-forsaken christian hardcore band (I'm sorry--christian hardcore? Really?? Moshing to shouted biblical references sounds like hell); booksellers who think that Ford Madox Ford and William Carlos Williams are mere creative exercises in appellative redundancy ("'Madox'? What kind of a name is 'Madox?' And sandwiching a name like 'Carlos' between two Williamses? You're having too much fun with this name game of yours, silly customer. Now let me direct you to our best sellers table, where you'll find the latest from Jeff Foxworthy." (And no, this "latest" is not the beef jerky as shown below, but I wouldn't be that surprised if B&N or Borders starts selling them along with his tragic tree sacrifices, aka books).

Unlike any other bookstore, corporate or otherwise, Barnes & Noble and Borders flawlessly attracts, and in large numbers daily, variegated packs of the American non-reader. Quite ironical, given that B&N and Borders are essentially purveyors of literature, a form of art or communication that isn't possible without the patience, the taste, and the capacity for READING. Nevertheless, those who would sooner subject themselves to another Sandler skullfuck on the big screen than to read even the name Fyodor Dostoevsky (because it's too big and complicated looking perhaps) gather at B&N and Borders, flipping through that Oprah-approved Anna Karina book by some author named Toadstool or something, while texting 20 or so friends on how the latest Mocha-Coco-Caramel Frappawhatever (the actual name was too big and complicated looking to read it through) is so good, it's worth shaving 2 or 3 years off the life of your arteries...