I have come to the sad conclusion that sometime near the beginning of the millennium we reached the point where there are now more books than readers in the world. As publishing becomes more economically efficient and intellectually deficient, each year there are tens of thousands of new books, and only a tiny, tiny minority are worth anything at all. Joseph Bottum's annual Year in Review essay for the Weekly Standard documents this trend superbly, and this year's installment indicates that the ratio of worthy books to dreck is probably lower than ever. Favorite line: "In mysteries and thrillers, there were a few hints this year that the serial-killer subgenre may actually come to end within our lifetime. (And some people think that God doesn't exist.)"
Read it and weep, and laugh if you can.