Libraries aren't being built, or when they are, they don't get stocked with books. We could argue the value of a library without books or the wisdom of providing food and drink in a room filled with paper goods and/or electronics, but no intellectual discourse would steer me away from shouting directly into your face that these futuristic visions of the library are "FUCKING FAILURES."
They are not failures in the sense that no one will visit them; they are failures in that these libraries are only disguised as research facilities. Everyone knows that the secret purpose of libraries (well, one of the secret purposes, since there are many... yes, I'm talking about you, Freemasons) is a place where you can make-out or have an orgasm and no one will bother you. I, the.effing.librarian, can even admit that an old girlfriend once flashed me in the library when she was out wearing only a long coat and boots. Okay, it wasn't my girlfriend, it was my roommate Tim. But that still counts, doesn't it?
But these new "libraries" only offer Internet. Yes, you can download econtent, but who the hell is going to do that? What visitors are going to do, based on what I see in my library, is watch hentai animation clips on the computer and then pretend to take their phones out of their pockets 150 times over and over and over until they rub themselves into bliss.
Maxim magazine has a cheerful illustration explaining the intended use versus the real use of library spaces at every university, and other than misdirecting their punchline (they put "Masturbating" somewhere in the middle of the list when it should clearly, for the sake of comedy, be placed last), it seems pretty accurate.
So when these new libraries open without books, they flaunt the oldest library secret: libraries are places for learning about sex. But historically, sex has been confined to dirty books. But no longer.
I used to think that having perverts watching porn on library computers was a violation of the noble purpose of the library until I had the revelation that it isn't. What I mean is, libraries should be for research and education, but SECRETLY for enjoying porn. Whatever became of texts like, Fanny Hill? Or teens sneaking a peek at Tropic of Cancer? Every naked body or sexual depiction should be a secret pleasure earned by the seeker through a diligent pursuit, or by having an older brother who shows it to him, not by simply googling it. (note: everything I know about Fanny Hill or Tropic of Cancer I learned from Potsie and Ralph on Happy Days.)
But the Internet exposed the secret. And so the library lost its power. Porn is available to everyone through the Internet. Except for the secret stash at The Vatican. And the only way you'll ever get to see that treasure of porn is if you can get your hands on the Pope's library card. I hear that's what Dan Brown's next book is about: The Pope's Overdues.
And for a while I was angered by those opposing porn filtering. But now I understand. They know that the secret has been lost. I first thought they wanted Internet porn in libraries based on some interpretation of free will where people should have the ability to pursue their interests, no matter how base of vile.
But now I know the truth. They only want the best for libraries. So when they say they don't support Internet filtering in libraries, they understand that unfiltered, porn-loaded, donkey-mounted, scat-sandwiched, golden-showered, bukakied, hairy-assed, wet, sloppy sex is what the public wants. And it's not just what the public wants; it's what libraries have always given them, but which was shrouded within aisles of arcanely labeled books.
So access to sexual material is the library's legacy. People have always wanted sex from libraries. The Internet is just the latest porn delivery system. Come into our library any day and see dozens of people viewing porn on our Internet computers. If you're lucky, you might catch one kid peeking between the covers of The Lesbian Sex Book. Dirty books don"t have the pull they once had. And so free access to online sex will probably prove to be the salvation of libraries.
