Lord of the Flies is one of those books that harkens back to a simpler (unspecified) time. It was a time when texting didn’t exist, a time when earnest youths could build a fire, a time when boys could be boys without worrying about things like MORALS or SOCIETY or THE DAWNING REALIZATION THAT EVIL EXISTS IN ALL OF US.
Which is, you know, kind of heavy, so instead of tackling that, I’m going to be summing up the book in a series of dumb text messages. Cool? Cool.