Saturday, August 25, 2007

Blogging while Drinking, again

Did you ever have one of those moments of clarity when all the pieces of your life fall together into one grand epiphany of understanding and you finally "get it"? Me, neither, and those people who claim they have are assholes.

But I was just reading this:
Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne's Walter E. Helmke Library is now offering students a mobile reference service. The program places reference librarians at specific locations around the campus to offer students assistance when needed. Librarians will also be available through online chat forums, regular email and instant messaging.
And I thought, holy crap, even with all the 2.0 B.S. everybody wants everyone to learn, the one common element is the librarian. Sure, the technology changes (a book is freaking technology), but the librarian is still important.

I think that's why I became one. Apart from all the crazy sex parties after bibliometrics class.

Now I wonder if this was all someone's plan: that forty years ago, a plot was devised to create more and more complex computer technology that the plotters knew would never be understood by the masses. And these plotters were librarians and librarian sympathizers. They looked back through history and saw that librarians were always there to decipher mysterious and obscure texts; so, who better to safeguard future documents? And so the plan was set into motion that would generate difficult and sinister methods for retrieving these data to guarantee that librarians would always have a place in society. Wow.

Hold on, there's someone knocking at the door. Yeah? Who? Thugs from the Library of Congress! They have thugs? The Librarian of Congress sent you? And he doesn't want me to write about the secret plot to keep librarians employed? But I wasn't... No, I'm just looking at porn. No, you can't come in. I'm in my sexy underpants. Yeah, they're really sexy. Okay! Whatever I was writing about the secret plot, I'll delete. No, tell James, I mean Jim, he can trust me. And tell him thanks for the flowers.

Good, they're gone.

I dunno why I think of this stuff. I hope you're amused by this crap because I'm ashamed.