One reason privatized libraries will fail.

Family files lawsuit in metal bat injury case

WAYNE, N.J. (AP) — The family of a boy who suffered brain damage after he was struck by a line drive off an aluminum baseball bat sued the bat's maker and others on Monday, saying they should have known it was dangerous.

The family of Steven Domalewski, who was 12 when he was struck by the ball in 2006, filed the lawsuit in state Superior Court. It names Hillerich & Bradsby Co., maker of the 31-inch, 19-ounce Louisville Slugger TPX Platinum bat used when Steven was hit.

The lawsuit also names Little League Baseball and Sports Authority, which sold the bat. It claims the defendants knew, or should have known, that the bat was dangerous for children to use, according to the family's attorney, Ernest Fronzuto.

Steven was pitching in a Police Athletic League game when he was hit just above the heart by a line drive. His heart stopped beating and his brain was deprived of oxygen for 15 to 20 minutes, according to his doctors.

Now, this is a tragic event, tragic because a child suffered a serious injury, but also tragic because there was a sporting event held with children participating and no adult there seemed to know CPR.

But what it says to me is that any "pain and suffering" can be used to link any two events. Now, Steven threw the ball, starting this whole cycle, and after the ball was hit, he was unable to catch the ball or deflect it from hitting him or get out of the way. Now, I'm not trying to be a hard-ass, but up to that one pitch, it seemed to be okay with his parents whenever Steven pitched to any other batter who faced their son using an aluminum bat.

So, again, up to the point of injury, Steven's parents thought aluminum bats were safe enough to let their son stand fifty feet away and throw a baseball at another kid who was swinging one.

But what does this have to do with the privatization of libraries? As long as libraries are public institutions, there seems to be the generally accepted belief that libraries are not liable for any injury caused by the reading of books or the sharing of ideas. So a lawsuit like this one shows me that there will be a point when a private library, run by a corporation, will be blamed for some future event. For example, if a parent plans for her child to grow up to become a doctor, but the child decides to become anything but a doctor because he saw it in a book, the library will be sued for lost wages. If someone gets fat because the recipes in a cookbook were irresistible, the library will be sued. If a child throws a baseball and another child hits it back with an unabridged dictionary hard enough to cause injury, the library will be sued. Library card paper cuts: sued; Adam Sandler movies: sued; gay penguin picture books: sued; Harry Potter turning your daughter into a Wiccan: sued; not enough parking spaces: sued; no cell phone use: sued; too many cell phone users: sued; Internet computer mouse slimy: sued; Internet too slow: sued; Internet down: double-sued.

Now I know this is America, and everyone is free to sue anyone for any damn thing they want, and that lawyers of the spawn of Hell, but how many more lawsuits does this country need?

"People who have children in youth sports are excited about the lawsuit from a public policy standpoint because they hope it can make the sport safer," Fronzuto said after filing the suit Monday morning. "There are also those who are skeptical of the lawsuit and don't see the connection between Steven's injury and the aluminum bat."

One of those skeptics is right here. Now all you parents with a kid involved in organized sports, go now and learn CPR, or lock your kid in his room. Oh, I forgot, it's America; do nothing now and sue everyone later.

And as someone who played baseball as a kid and pitched, one of reasons teams uses aluminum bats was because wood bats would break. I don't know what your experience is, but I was much less terrified of a ball being hit back at me from an aluminum bat than I was of a wood bat cracking in half and sending a one-pound chunk of jagged wood at me at 35 mph.

Where is my mind?

People always stop me on the street and ask, "Hey, is that your face or did your neck throw up?" But I ignore those people and continue imagining that all the.effing.librarian fans out there are cheering for me because I'm so wonderful, and then they raise me up onto their shoulders and carry me to a world filled with ice cream and jelly beans and Scotch and Jennifer Jason Leigh sexbots, but designed from the way she looked when she was in Miami Blues. And then I wake up in a strange part of town handcuffed to a former Miss New Jersey who tells me "That was the bestest party ever!"

But really, what is in my head all day? Here is a picture of the door to my room when I was a teen. This is pretty much what goes on in my head 24/7. Lots of crap. Except I don't think about Mercury Morris or Nick Buoniconti or the 1972 Miami Dolphins any more. But everything else, yeah. I wish I could turn it off.

"We get what we get, and we don't get upset."

I hear this is something they say at a local day care when they give out treats to the kids.

I'm using it. It works.

DRM babies.

I'm sick of hearing kids whine about DRM.

The minute the first song or movie was converted to a format you could download, you should have known that some company would find a way to interrupt your enjoyment of it. You live in an accelerated culture. And it's not getting better. Expect that after 2009 everything you've ever downloaded will evaporate. Or worse, still take up space on your hard drives, but be inaccessible. Or turn into Barry Manilow tunes.

This is Moore's law applied to the digital world:
Your perceived ownership of a thing will reduce by one-half every 2 years. The distance between usefulness and obsolescence expands or shrinks based on popularity. More popular items will need replacement faster as market saturation peaks sooner. Hence, books will always be around.

So you've never heard of planned obsolescence? Did you think you could use this crap forever?! Oh, look how convenient this is, that I can download everything! Convenience has been a trap since the 1920's. Convenience sucks.

Prepare for obsolescence. I have five DVD players in unopened boxes. I have a record player and a collection of record albums. I have a zombie Adolphe Menjou and zombie Irene Dunne in my garage to act out scences from my favorite films for me. Yeah, I dug them up and zombified them, so I won't even need DVDs in the future. And I'm converting all my albums and mp3s to eunuch. I got an authentic eunuch who memorizes all my songs and sings them to me on demand; he accepts all ID3 tags and has shuffle and repeat. He eats too much, but there's always a trade off.

Soon the only permanent thing we will have is printed text on paper. And what do we call it when you bind those pages between two covers? Kids? Anyone?

Welcome to the Inhuman Network.

I saw this Cisco commercial the other day:

Visual Networking
A phone that fixes a scooter. A billboard that adapts to an audience of one. A car that can see what's ahead. On the human network, video changes everything. (31 seconds)

(I tried to embed the video, but couldn't get it to work, so you can click the direct link for the annoying video here or visit the page with all the videos here and then watch it.)

And it offended me by the way it isolated every person from everyone else. Everyone is looking at a screen and not interacting with other people. Even the two people in the car are messing with the GPS and not looking at each other.

Didn't visual networking used to mean making eye contact with your audience?

(I know they have other, better videos, but this one bothers me.)

Muxtape goodness

Saw a tweet from Jessamyn yesterday, "So you can load a bunch of muxtapes into different tabs and play them at the same time. Cacophonously nifty!" And that reminded me that I wanted to find a way to search Muxtape for favorite songs. And it looks like I found a place: Muxtape list.

But looks were deceiving. The custom googly-search doesn't work. Neither does a google with site:muxtape.com.

But at least, this person has a huge list of songs sorted by Artist or Song Title or Muxer. And it looks like it was created recently. So if I want to hear a song, even "Maps" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs, which seems to be a really popular Muxtrack, I can find it. Wow, and many people posted Andrew Bird (I don't know who that is), and Animal Collective (again, dunno), and Jamie Lidell (I know who that is), Lykke Li (??), and The White Stripes (I know them).

It's really cool to see what people like. Or what they want other people to experience. I know that (most of) the songs on my list have special meaning for me, so maybe other people feel the same about their selections.

If I can just find someone to upload "Ask the Angels" by Patti Smith.

Why don't spammers love me?

I have this contact widget over on the left and the only people who use it are spammers to send messages about some crap they sell that I just delete. But I leave the form up in case someone feels the overwhelming need to send me some love (hint, hint).

But the thing that gets me is that they don't send any love. Here is a free way for someone to spam me with their knock-off penis pills and designer purses, and all they need to do is click the drop-down and select "lots," but they never do. They never send any love. So they get none back: you'll never see me at the convention toting a faux Dooney & Bourke or Coach bag and sporting pharmaceutically-induced excitement. Nope, not me. ...Not until I can remember the address on that message I just deleted. Damn.

Okay, I lied about not using old stuff anymore.

Here is part of a letter I wrote to Will Manley in 1995 and part of his column that used my letter:

I'm a reference librarian, and I know I should be tolerant, but I find my patience evaporating as days go by. Some people are too, too stupid. Just this morning a guy called for a value on a used Chevy half-ton pickup truck. What model, I asked. Doesn't know. Engine? Not sure. Long bed? Don't know. Gun rack, hound dog, Confederate flag in back? Yep, he knows that. So I guess and tell him what a specific model costs; if the truck he wants is that model then he's in luck.
What the hell else am I supposed to do???

I'm constantly being pissed off by people who think that everything is on computer. Don't you have the Internet? Don't you have the CD-ROM? Can't you just type some keys and give me every damn thing I want??!! DON'T YOU HAVE ALL THIS TECHNOLOGY THAT I REFUSE TO PAY FOR BY NOT VOTING TO PAY MORE IN TAXES TO SUPPORT IT??? ISN'T MY LOUSY $15 A YEAR ENOUGH TO GET ME WHAT I WANT WHEN I WANT IT???

That's what pisses me off. A demanding public which demands things it can't possibly get because it doesn't have the capacity to understand that it's not free. Technology takes money and knowledge requires effort, dammit.

Yeah, what is it the kids say? "Angry, much?"

And here is what appeared in his column:

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the hundreds of readers who answered the survey from my July/ August column (p. 736) on the vexations of reference librarianship.

• A man called the reference desk of a southern public library and wanted to know the blue-book value of a Chevy pickup truck. "What model?" asked the librarian. The patron didn't know. "What size engine?" The patron didn't know. "Long-bed or short-bed?" The patron didn't know. "Well," said the librarian in exasperation, "what can you tell me about it?" "Oh," said the caller, "it has a gun rack, a hound dog, and a sticker of the Confederate flag on the back window."

So there you have it, the earliest evidence I can find that I was destined to become the.effing.librarian.

And to those of you who've purchased t-shirts and coffee mugs, wear them and sip from them with pride. (And GB, really, one shirt??!! I mean the exchange rate for $ to £ makes the shirt practically free!) Tell your friends. Take a picture of you wearing the shirt or holding the mug, send it to me and I'll post it!!! I'm desperate for attention, and if I need to live vicariously through a t-shirt to have some, then I'll do it. Send me pictures!

Double and triple-dipping in the book world.

I'm not talking about publishing abuses like:
Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus; Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus, and Your Dog is From Pluto; Men are From Mars, but Some Other Men are From Uranus; For Men Who Are Like Mercury (Speedy) in the Bedroom; etc.

And I'm not talking about the Chicken Soup series: for the Wiccan Soul or for the Death Row Inmate Soul, or for the Zombie and Vampire Undead, Soulless Soul.

And not talking about buying another Conan DVD release plastered with a sticker for "Now, with EXTRA Schwarzenegger!" that you play the second audio track to hear 10 minutes of silence then "KO-nun" and 10 more minutes of what sounds like heavy breathing then "200 KEE-LOZ" and ten more minutes of silence then "Not Not-ZEES, Austrian." So the production company decides to release the disk again, but with an apology for the first disk "because Mr. Schwarzenegger was not told why he had been escorted into a darkened room, he promptly fell asleep, and the audio-commentary you hear on the previous release is Mr. Schwarzenegger dreaming. So don't look upon the previous release as a rip-off, but treat it as a rare glimpse into the soul of a great American."

And I'm not complaining about what we had to deal with in the 1970's when I had to buy the same album in four different formats; first on vinyl, then 8-track (because those were on their way out and usually in the clearance bins), then cassette (because the record started skipping), and then CD. I'm not complaining about that since the only record I actually did that with was the Sex Pistols' Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols. (Little known fact: the.effing.librarian's fantasy band is called The Flaming Sex Poodles, named from grabbing random cassettes out of a box: The Flamin' Groovies, the Sex Pistols and The Fabulous Poodles).

I'm here to complain about Lady Cottington's Pressed Fairy Book. I bought this when it was first published and gave it away as a gift. Then they issued a smaller version of the original which I bought for myself. Then about a month ago, I was in a Borders and they had a new version with mostly the same content but some added art plus a DVD. Part of me wanted to buy it for the DVD, but I couldn't bring myself to buy the same book a third time, even for the bonus content. So that's what I'm talking about.

Actually, I'm not sure what I was talking about.

Mother's Day founder: copyright pioneer, crazy nutball

According to her obituary in the NYT (11/25/1948), Anna Jarvis, founder of Mother's Day, claimed a copyright to the holiday to keep it from being exploited. I think that's a unique approach to what is now part of Creative Commons licensing: non-commercial, no derivative works, etc.

The article also says that "she denounced confectioners, florists and other groups whom she accused of gouging the public," as her preferred flower, the carnation, had fallen victim to higher prices, presumably caused by higher demand (which she created - is that irony, or what?).

So what did she expect would happen? People are going to change and suddenly do what you want them to do. What Anna wanted was for people to spend time with their mothers. Isn't that crazy? "Spend time with mom? You mean, today? I know it's Sunday and you think we should all be with our mothers praying, but that just means that the roads are open, the beaches are clear, the golf courses are empty. So I'm sending mom a nice card and a box of candy because Mr. Hallmark and Mr. Hershey make it so easy. Look at the inscription, 'From the North to the East and from the South to the West, of all the Mothers, you are the best.' See, isn't that great! I don't have to write anything. This relieves so much guilt. And look, I spent almost $14. I'll try to stop by to see her next month."

So like millions of you, I plan to spend the day with my mother. Because I have this huge load of laundry to do, which I can just drop off while I go to the movies and she'll take care of it. Yeah, that would be a great plan. If only mom would let me know where she moved to. Since she moved away last year and didn't tell me to where, I think she feels like every day has been Mother's Day. So good for her. And I save the $2.50 I would have spent on a card.

And what are you doing here today, anyway??? Go see your mom!!!!!

My Obituary.

It seems like there are lots of stories out there about librarians who close the book or finish the chapter or hit their due date or have their privileges expire or delete that account or just plain die.

The story tells inevitably of a person who loved to read and share the joy of reading with others, especially sick children and wounded animals and the homeless.

Since I'm not a reader, I guess my story would be pretty short. But I have an excuse. I don't read because it makes me tired. I don't know if it's processing words or black text on white paper, but reading wears me out. It could also be that I can't read more than a few words without having some idea about something that has me off thinking about something else.

Here is me reading:
"Call me Ishmael."
Call me Ishmael. That is so simple. And it's so informal, like he's my friend. I need to think about an opening line like that. Keep it simple. Keep is simple. But is simple still popular? I need to find a new book. What's on the bestseller list? How do those books start? No, wait. I need to stick to the basics. Keep it simple. Yeah. Simple. Man, I need a nap. But first, a sandwich.

And that is why I never finished Moby Dick.

So what could someone say about me after a career as a librarian? I'm not getting any younger. I could go any day now. Especially since I haven't been able to stop drinking. Or quit smoking. Or kick the toad licking.

So if you haven't thought about what your story might be, maybe you should. Because otherwise it will be left to your boss and co-workers to write something. And if you die before me, you know I'm writing that you loved the Longarm novels, especially the sex scenes which you underlined with a red felt-tip pen, adding "Yes!" in the margins.

So about me, so far I have this:
He tried never to kill anyone. Except that one guy. You know the guy. The one who stopped coming a few years ago. I'm not saying anything, but don't dig up behind the dumpster. Let someone else find it; you don't want to know about it.

Friday life-savers

We at the.effing.librarian are all about helping. So when I read this post, Writing blunders, I thought of some things I can do to help all you struggling writers out there:

#8 Pain don't hurt: Flat descriptions about someone's emotional state bring tears from editors, not readers. Now, don't look to me for fixes on this, I'm not the best with emotion, but I do know you can't just say "His accusation made her feel bad." Describe the feeling bad through images or actions. Did her face heat up with shame, or did it cause ice to form in her gut, or did she flee to the bathroom and sob into her scarf?

(now this is me helping)

"...I almost screamed."

"You almost screamed?" He stressed the "almost" to tease her.

"Yeah."

"Well, what did you do when you almost screamed? I've never seen anyone almost scream. Do you mean that you wanted to scream, but you didn't?"

"What are you talking about?" Her voice got loud like when she argued with her mother. "What's your problem. Just go back to cutting our lawn."

"I'm not fighting with you, but I need to know. How do you know that the next thing you would do is scream? Did you feel the scream coming and you covered your mouth in case you screamed, so no one would hear, but covering your mouth distracted you from screaming, so you didn't? Did you think about screaming, but realized you weren't really terrified enough to scream?"

She looked off as if she were remembering. "Well, yeah."

"Good. Now tell me what you did. Exactly. What did you think?"

"Well, I was scared. I thought something was going to jump on me or hurt me. But nothing happened."

"You mean immediately, right away."

"Yeah, nothing happened right away. It was like I saw something scary, but nothing happened, nothing went with it. It was just something I saw."

"So you didn't scream."

"Yeah."

"So you were just startled. It scared you at first, but there really was no threat, so the scream never came."

"Yeah, that's right."

He turned from her and felt around in the nylon sports bag that lay on the seat of the riding mower. When he found what he needed, er showed it to her, its blade sharp and ready for work. Then he grabbed her throat and held it tight.

"That's good, but now I really need to hear you scream."

There. Problem solved. The next time you want to write about someone almost screaming, use that. Go ahead. It's all yours, totally free. But I guess the person I stole it from might object.

#11. So that's why you wrote this: I've read stories where the most precise language and evocative imagery is saved for the all-important pudenda-shaving scene as the heroine gets ready to go to the library. I'm not knocking your kink, I'm just wondering why so much word-weight is put into a personal hygiene choice in a story about tracking down Shoggoths.

Looky, a library reference! I once wrote a whole story just to use the line, "she receded into darkness, and as she waved goodbye, she seemed to pull at the air like a drowning ghost." I love that image, like a drowning ghost. Don't steal that, you stealers!

And for some reason which I can't rember, I found my way to afghan-cap, the "Ageless, Faceless, Gender-Neutral, Culturally-Ambiguous Adventure Person." And I can't remember why, but I wrote this (maybe it was meant to poke fun at the choose your own adventure games, but I don't know).

As the first-born child of the leader of the Thraals, your favorite pastime is folding laundry.

"But I hate to do the laundry," you think.

I realize that you might hate to do the laundry, but this is what the Thraals are know for. They can fold and press a ladies pleated button-down silk-ramie blend blouse faster than anyone.

"So, I don't care."

You may not care about folding blouses, but it really is important. Just go with it. It will be really useful later on. Okay?

"I guess so."

Now, if you use starch, turn to page 44, for no-starch, turn to page 12.

So there. Any way I can help.