for Pussy lovers.

Great. I have to buy an effing cat magazine?

Look, a story about "45 Amazing Library Cats" in the February 2010 edition of Cat Fancy.

No. Nobody is making me buy this, but if you're a regular reader, you know that I'm a collector of library animal stories. I love to read heartwarming tales of library cats and library anacondas and library squids.

In fact, in 1997, I stole a panther from the animal sanctuary and let is loose in the local library just so I could have a story to clip from the paper and add to my collection. The headline "Librarian Maimed by a Fucking Panther" is one of my favorites. The paper had to defend the language in the headline, with the editor saying, "There was a fucking panther in the library. What the fuck would you say?"

That's right. What would you say? But check that cover. Isn't that cat awesome? No, not the fluffy one, that freaky monster cat with the pointy ears. What the hell is that? A Peterbald? That's one seriously ugly cat. Oh, crap, do you think he can hear me?

The Ideal Library CATalog

So I was just reading (if you can call it that when I need to keep calling one of the other librarians over to tell me what the big words mean) this article (via Marianne Lenox tweet), "We’re Gonna Geek This Mother Out" at ITLWTLP.

And when I got down near the bottom, I saw an image of a common library web catalog which displays the usual catalog elements: item details, available copies, and estimated wait to get it because it's so damn popular, and what are you doing asking for this anyway? Did Oprah just tell you to read it?

And that made me think about an ideal library catalog display. Since library catalogs are, at best, alienating to our patrons, and at worst, presenting completely unintelligible information, I started thinking that we should dump it all and just have pictures of kitties.

Patrons don't understand what our catalogs tell them, anyway. So the catalog is basically useless. So why not give in and just make the library catalog cute and cuddly.

Now, you may not interpret the meaning of what is presented in my new, super awesome library catalog, but trust me, each illustration has meaning.

NEW SUPER AWESOME LIBRARY CATalog
(scroll down, the damn table isn't displaying like it should)

TITLE IS CURRENTLY:
TITLE IS CURRENTLY:
TITLE IS CURRENTLY:
TITLE IS CURRENTLY:

Did you figure it out? The first book is available and ready to play. The second book is being transferred between branches. The third is on hold. And the fourth is totally FUBAR, checked out, damaged, missing, etc.

See? A beautiful interface, simply presented. Glad I could help.


(crap. I can't get this freakin table to display properly.... grrrr)

Librarians have no sense of humor

Here is what happens when I try to say something funny at the library:

"Oh, man, I was attacked by girl scouts in the parking lot today. They were like little
ninjas swarming all around me waving their cardboard boxes like tiny sai and demanding, 'buy
my cookies. Buy my cookies.' I couldn't get away. 'Okay, I said. I'll buy your five
dollar a box, chocolate-covered hydrogenated myocardial infarctions...'"

[Coworker blinks. Cricket noises are heard.]

Or maybe not that, but pretend I said something truly funny. Here is what the librarian thinks:
These words appear to be expressed as a joke; I must access the pleasure center of my
brain...the Cheesecake Factory...my cat...my other cat...You've Got Mail...my other other
cat...oh, okay, humor!

This is how you tell a joke to a librarian:" Excuse me; I am about to tell a joke. Ready? My cat did the funniest thing today..."

Thank you. Thank you very much. I'll be back at 7:30. Try the veal cutlet.