This is a good book. It has a cover and many pages. This book is endorsed by parents and is church-friendly. It is clean and full of Grace, as in it was approved by a Florida state media consultant named Grace.
It is designed to offend no one. It does not mention war, sex, drugs, politics, depression, alcohol, drugs, violence, scantily dressed women (any mentions of women, really), selfless fish, California, hungry caterpillars, or drugs, except for the addictive power of prayer.
There is absolutely no pronoun ideology in this book. This is a sample sentence.
Adam White is going to the park because the father of Adam White is there. Adam White and the father of Adam White are biologically men.
Big words? Not in here. This book operates on the understanding that education is hard, and teachers can be led astray by YouTube or egregious left-wing media like C-SPAN.
This book does not mention homosexuality or anything that could be construed as “queer.” There are no rainbows. The only color allowed is a neutral gray.
I’m sorry—I’ve just been informed that gray is the color of asexuality, and so the only color now allowed is blank.
What color is blank? Why it’s a beautiful cousin of eggshell white.
There are no strange or foreign-sounding names in this book. In fact, all the characters have good Christian names with clear and established western European etymologies. They can be pronounced by anyone from any city in a right-to-work state.
There are no opinions in this book. Only facts, like the sky is blue and that God invented dinosaurs.
Adam White is only interested in interacting with reality, which is what we call it when one boy follows all the rules laid out by his benevolent state governor. This is a sample sentence.
Adam White looked up at the picture of the elected representative of Adam White and said, “It’s state governor prayer time again. Hooray!”
This book was crafted to live within any library in America. It was written by a team specializing in what is most important in good books: that it appeals to conservative politicians and that one mom on the PTA.
Our names were clearly listed in the authors’ biographies, which we had removed just in case.
There is no grooming in this book, either metaphorical or literal. No one leads children astray by the power of sequins, and no one combs their hair or washes their hands after they pee.
This book has no rising action or any kind of climax. There are no villains or anything morally gray—sorry, we mean morally eggshell.
There are no character arcs or anything as pretentious as a plot. Here’s another sample sentence.
Adam White was, is, and will always be a happy biological boy.
This book has no illustrations. It has no titles. No headings. No fonts that might be too curvaceous. No periods because that’s basically an abortion. No spaces because they might be safe. No underlining because it implies toplining, which implies a top and therefore implies a bottom—both of which are known to be gay directions.
There are no analogies in this book. No symbolism or any other kind of radical left ideology. No one majors in humanities, and no professors get tenure. There are no metaphors like butterflies or uncaged birds, as the only birds recognized in this state are snowbirds here to escape winters and vote against CRT.
No commas, parentheses, em dashes, participles, gerunds, subjects, or split infinitives, as the only person who can split anything is Moses and whoever carved up voting districts.
What this book does have is a sturdy cover and pages filled with neutral abstract AI art generated in a tasteful color of pale alabaster. It was formulated to match the words, which are printed in cream, blending in seamlessly with the background of blank.
When you pick up this book, you will see the ideal book form: page after page of pure, empty space.
That is why it can never be banned, and this is what makes it a good book.