Manifested Worth of the Book in Transitive Form: Or more simply, wtf eBooks!

I remember as a small child sitting on a couch that practically swallowed me whole, with a book on my lap thinking to myself, as soon as I can figure out how to read letters, I am going to read this book and NOT ask Mummy.  

Yes folks. Mummy. Not 'Mom' or its more horrifying counterpoint 'Mommy,' but simply Mummy. 

But I digress. What I wanted more than anything, more than I wanted to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or My Little Pony (I had an eclectic taste even then), I wanted to know how to read. I felt, at such a tender age, that the ability to read granted a worlds worth of wisdom. And I was partially right. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the first book I 'read' on my own was "Where the Wild Things Are". I had all the answers, I knew everything! Books were magic. 

In the last decade, how I read has drastically changed, and this is in no small part due to the rise of the Web 2.0 world, full of electronic gadgets, e-readers, tablets, iPad's. I was dismissive when Amazon first released the Kindle, reasoning that no one would ever want to read something as sacred as a book through an electronic interface. Oh... so my father downloaded the Bible to read on his laptop even though he has a... real one? He's just weird! Online newspapers? Screens are totally not conducive to seeing page content in an effective and attractive manner. And eBook will never catch on. 

Except then I got a kobo. For those of you who are not Canadian, a kobo is the Canadian version of the Kindle, and it is actually legit a better device than its counterpart. It's smaller, has more memory, better battery life, and is more compatible with different types of eBook files or documents. It is a Copyright Pirates wet dream come true. 

I love my kobo. It is small. It fits into my itty bitty ever so fashionable purse. I have the entire Harry Potter series, all the Game of Thrones books, my trashy romance novels a la Kim Harrison, and at least forty Classics. 

Actually, this is my thing. The Classic's.  Books that have been out of copyright and the publishing industry has been making an absolute fortune on because people want a bloody physical copy of Charles Dickens, or Ovid, or Old English Gent who writes boring prose (Not Shakespeare, I lurve him), and people have really had no recourse but to pay for titles that have been marked up 200% because these titles are cash cows. And now, they are all available for free download through store websites, as well as alternative depositories such as the Project Gutenberg site. 

Even better, the majority of libraries these days offer an assortment of ebook titles that they have purchased from their book vendors. There are problems attached to this form of book lending though, with vendors trying to limit the amount of times a digital book can be lent out before the library is forced to renew their purchase on the title. I have issues that libraries are, or will be, forced to repeatedly buy an eBook from a publisher because they have limited the amount of times it can be 'borrowed,' because part of the appeal of digital books is that they do not face the same wear and tear as physical books. In the Children's Department, we often bought the same title 5-8 times a year because it had been stolen, destroyed by a child, or was falling apart because it had circulated so heavily that the glue holding the pages in was exhausted and just gave up. Ebooks have the potential to remain in circulation forever. And in that sense... I understand the publishers wanting to build in required need to renew a contract on title use. But, when you buy a book, a physical book, that book is yours barring destruction of the copy, or you need to make room on your shelf for newer acquirements. 

Which brings me to my next pet peeve about digital books. The cost of them. 

Ebooks require virtually no labour to create copies for purchase and download after it has been translated into digital format. I understand that the publishing industry is for profit, and that books regularly cost a good hunk of change. I do not understand why ebooks are sold at the same, or comparable cost, to their physical counterparts. I do no get it. It drives me mental. A few short years ago, ebooks were sold for 99 cents. Now, if they cost 10% less than a 'real' book, it is considered a good deal. This is, in part, due to having created a demand, the companies are now able to charge more. However, this is driving the dark underside of the digital world, the world of pirating. 

You can find almost every title online for no cost, or, an incredibly cheap subscription price to a website that hosts various titles. It sounds ridiculous to complain about the cost of an ebook, considering that most ebook devices cost at least $100, similar to an ipod or multimedia player. And once bought, you own that digital title at least until you delete it off your device (and sometimes longer because the company you bought it from has it on file that you own it now), so how do they make money off of you?

So now I am torn. I understand that in this digital world, content is money. Information is money. Access is money. And yet, I find myself uttering the trope of the internet is meant to be free! But equally, publishing is a business, a big business, and authors deserve to be rewarded for their creations more-so even than the music industry ever did (they don't actually create anything new, or have original thought, even if they do make music that I rock out to all day long. Chair dancing anyone? Anyone?). 

Now to address my original premise, that reading holds magic. It does, regardless if it is through an electronic device or bound in paper and cardboard. But perhaps what has been lost is the feeling that a book has a manifested monetary worth. Books are straddling two words, and I am not scared that they will cease to be, more that I am interested to see what their next transformative experience will create. 

X-Ring... c'est what?

It's been a very long time folks, and for this, I apologize. New job, new house mates, new activities. Not yet the new year, but I've already resolved to remedy my lack of recent content updates. First things first, I am no longer a Children's Librarian. What?! I know. Big changes in Risque land.

So, while this post is not about books and or literature, it is of a matter rather near and dear to my heart, as well as my right hand.

My X-Ring.

For those of you not in the know, and I realize that this could potentially be a large number of yiz, an X-Ring is a ring that is received by fourth year undergraduate students at the venerable Saint Francis Xavier University. It is, as you would say, kind of a big deal. I'm not going to say that the X-Ring has achieved an iconic status and is possibly (probably) worshipped by the few and proud students who attend STFX, but the reality is, is that to receive the X-Ring is a really big deal. Student's receive it every year on December 3rd, and people start counting down days to X-Ring as early as Frosh week in their first year. It marks a particular level of achievement, success, and participation within a community that really makes your experience at STFX feel like you have a large, slightly obnoxious at times, family. It is also a majorly needed boost for many fourth years to just go and study for those derned exams already so you can turn that ring AROUND. But... that's another thing altogether.

Anywho, why am I even talking about some ring that the majority of this world's population couldn't give two cents about?

Todd Pettigrew wrote a rather, let us call it, dismissive blog post in his MacLeans blog, the Hour Hand, titled simply, "Time for this year's edition of X-idol".

He starts is with the dubious endorsement of,

There’s a lot I like about St. Francis Xavier University. Its pleasant campus, the small town charm of Antigonish, its rich history. But the ridiculous obsession that the university and its alumni have with their university ring…

Whoah. Ridiculous obsession? I will admit that we are possibly slightly obsessed with our rings. But ridiculous? Bah I say!

Pettigrew goes on to note, in a totally geeky way I might add, student's 'tude to counting down the days until they proudly slide that ring onto their finger.

Graduates await the ceremony like kids awaiting Christmas, and like so many Gollums out of Tolkein, they count the days til they can get their hands on the precious, the precious. 

One Ring to Rule them all. 

Why yes, yes we do. Students will put up a daily countdown in their windows proudly displaying that they have Six Hundred and Twelve days until X-Ring, Ninety-Five days till X-Ring, FOUR freaking days until X-Ring man! You get cards in your mailbox from your neighbours congratulating you on your approaching X-Ring date once you hit the single digits.

Todd goes on to further belittle a ring, that might I add, he does not have, as he is a proud faculty member of UNB and did not attend STFX as a student. Ever.

Don’t get me wrong. I like the school, and I’m sure lots of fine people go there, have gone there, and are there right now. But the whole ring thing is,in my view, downright unseemly.

Let’s leave aside the fact that the ring itself, stamped simply with a big black X like a branded steer or a carton of dirty magazines, is just plain ugly (though I freely admit that my own university’s ring is uglier). And let’s also overlook the aura of self-congratulatory creepiness by which the university promotes the ring ceremony like it’s the initiation rite of a secret cult: the ring, they say, is “the unmistakable emblem that links you to fellow Xaverians around the world for the rest of your life.”
Actually, it does. I have met an incredibly random segment of the population in terms of race, gender and age with whom I would probably never strike up a conversation with in normal circumstances because they have this ring on their hands. Many STFX graduates are able to make job connections through strong alumni ties, which is fostered in part by the shared recognition of their rings.

Let me give you an example which occurred during my brief time as a Children's Librarian. A family wandered into the library and asked to use the computers. While we were setting them up, I noticed that all four adults had a certain ring on their hands. No sillies, it was not the wedding bands that caught my eye, it was the X-Ring! This family had driven all they way down from Nova Scotia to visit family, and after all admiring our pretty pretty rings, we talked shop and I sent them on their merry way confident that they would have a great time visiting some local attractions. They will be getting a Christmas card from me this year. This is one of many such sighting, and is no less significant than the bar tender who went to Dal, or the hopelessly turned around businessman who could not find the financial district. All served as a reminder of community.

To be frank, I am uncertain how the community that comes together over a symbolic form of togetherness is any different from the communities fostered at any other university through the sales of university gear, sports events, and Home Coming. I have a sister that is rabid about the University of South Carolina's football team. She has all the gear, clothing that is red and black, and can doubtlessly perform several Gamecock cheers at a moments notice.

Perhaps my confusion over this article is based on the simple fact that I am no stranger to the significance of school solidarity which American's are much better at generating than Canadians. Every kid in my high school, or at least it seemed to me at the time, got very expensive class rings complete with diamonds, little logo's commemorating their involvement in teams and groups, alongside letter jackets, hoodies, and keychains. I didn't understand why it was so important to teenagers to commemorate where they attended the "best years of their lives," however after attending University during my formative years, I understand now retroactively.

Saint Francis Xavier was and is a fabulous university that gave me so many wonderful experiences, fabulous friendships, and provides me with ongoing alumni involvement. I have since completed a Masters at another wonderful institution, which I also feel a connection too. But every time I look down, and see that glint of gold, and the bold black shininess of the onyx X, I am reminded of a wonderful four years, and a community that I will always be a part of.

So Todd, I ask you this: how can you belittle an experience that is so wonderful for so many people? You don't have to understand why or how us X-graduates feel this way, but you should celebrate our successes, just as we do.

PS: Congrad's all you X-ers that received your ring this past weekend! We're all so proud of you.

Libraries Lead to Plague Victims

From InspiredbyLit

Twilight vs. Hunger Games

I love the Ginger Haze  art blog by Noelle. I also adore the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins because it is smart, sexy, and Katniss kicks everyone's ass. I have a weakness/problem for strong female characters.

As Noelle points out, the entire concept for the Hunger Games is thus:

"How can I be the exact opposite of Stephanie Meyers?”

Anywho, just read the Hunger Games, and check out Noelle's art.

Stranger Than Fiction

As far as I'm concerned, this is completely true. Love is not fiction, but sometimes it can be found in the fiction section. Is this the appropriate place to mention that librarians do it in the stacks? So I've heard at least. Erm... going now.

Book Slam: Breaking Dawn by Stephanie Meyers

Premise: To be irrevocably in love with a vampire is both fantasy and nightmare woven into a dangerously heightened reality for Bella Swan. Pulled in one direction by her intense passion for Edward Cullen, and in another by her profound connection to werewolf Jacob Black, a tumultuous year of temptation, loss, and strife have led her to the ultimate turning point. Her imminent choice to either join the dark but seductive world of immortals or to pursue a fully human life has become the thread from which the fates of two tribes hangs. Now that Bella has made her decision, a startling chain of unprecedented events is about to unfold with potentially devastating, and unfathomable, consequences. Just when the frayed strands of Bella''s life - first discovered in Twilight, then scattered and torn in New Moon and Eclipse - seem ready to heal and knit together, could they be destroyed . . . forever? (From Indigo).

Ages: 12 and UP. Please read that again. 12. And up.

Rated: PG-17 for graphic content, 'sexuality', coarse language, and extreme idiocy.

General description of the book, shamelessly lifted from Urban Dictionary, because I aint wasting my time with this shit. So, here is a sweet and simple synopsis of the book. 

Bella, the human, and Edward, the vampire, get married. Then they have rough sex that leaves her bruised and battered. (Also, he bites a pillow and covers her with feathers.) Then she gets totally pregnant with some kind of demon death baby who grows at a superhuman rate, can read thoughts in the womb, drinks blood in utero, and breaks Bella's ribs, pelvis, and spine from the inside. Some werewolf stuff happens and Jacob (20 year old werewolf) falls in love with the tiny demon death baby which sparked many confused and slightly disturbed comments and thoughts in readers around the country. The baby is delivered via Cesarean section, which is a polite way of saying that other characters rip Bella's stomach open with their teeth. ("Seriously, they cannot make this into a movie. I cannot imagine for one second how they could make this into a movie appropriate for teenage girls and keep this part in it.") 

Let us start with this sentiment, posted by a reader who shall remain anonymous because I just think that they are an embaressment to humanity:

Let me start by saying that nothing for me will ever be as good as Twilight. It was an unexpected find and I never anticipated that Breaking Dawn would match that.

OMG GUYS! Twilight was such an amazing book! I love Bella! I can relate to her because she is just like me!

I cannot even... no. Just. No. I refuse to even give you a synopsis of my own doing. Because that means I would have to talk about the lack of plot, the lack of any worthwhile character, the author's infatuation with 'whiteness' and 'sparkles' which might make me sound like I actually liked the book. Which I do not. I read it under extreme duress about two and a half years ago because my baby sister is a scary human being, who watched me like a hawk and made me go back and read the multitude of pages I tried to skip every time I hit a 'sparkle' heavy paragraph. Unfortunately, that was almost every other paragraph. 

I hold the Twilight series as single-handedly causing the destruction of modern society. 

I am going to take this time to talk about the heroine of this... romance, Bella. Bella Swan. Bella is resoundingly dim-witted, dull, and a horrible role model for young girls and teens. At one point in the series, Edward leaves her, apparently for her own good. You know, because he is a vampire, wants to eat her, and would break her in half with a quirk of his sparkly white pinky finger. So what does this bitch do? Well, she tries to kill herself. She also spends several seasons sitting in a chair in her room being a shut in watching the world go by. At least, that is my understanding from the movie. Don't ask. I don't want to talk about it. 

However, in Breaking Dawn Bella is even more dangerous because her character essentially informs girls that in order to be a complete woman you need to meet three criteria: get married, have a baby, and be a loving wife and mother. Hear that feminists? In order to be a real woman, you need to get married to a man, get knocked up, and care for said man and spawn for the rest of your life. 

Furthermore, exactly how old was Bella when she did all this? Seventeen? Because she did not want to be older than her husband when she was 'turned' into a fellow sparkling blood thirsty vampire that fortunately was totally able to control her blood lust when no other fledgling vampire is able to exert any form of control. Guess what girls! Getting married at the ripe old age of seventeen to a significantly older man is totally sexy. How could this possibly go wrong!?

Ah. Right. That. Let's not talk about that...

So, age inappropriateness aside, what else is wrong with Bella's resoundingly horrible life decisions? Well, she had sex. With her loving husband Edward, who left her covered in bruises, and unconscious. Guess what ladies! It turns out we are doing this shit completely wrong! Begone soft touches and romantical nonsense whispered in your ear. Begone controlled safe environments and partners that are aware of what they are doing to you. What we need is a sparkly white man to be so resoundingly violent in the bedroom that we are completely physically broken. Also, for heavens sake leave birth control out of the situation. I mean, when he promises to pull out that is a 100% fail proof plan against unwanted pregnancies. He will probably also promise that he is sterile. Risk free amirite?

So problems established thus far: 

1. Bella needs a man to be fulfilled as a woman. 
2. Bella needs a child to be a complete woman. 
3. Bella is in a physically abusive marriage. 
4. Bella does not know how to practice safe sex (see above). 
5. Bella does not know about contraception. 

Most problematical (problematic? I do not even know. Breaking Dawn is stealing my ability to create coherent sentences now!) is how Bella is treated by her male counterparts, as well as herself, as some sort of commodity. Edward wants her. So does Jacob Black. They are constantly throwing her back and forth between themselves and despite Bella being all, "But I will always love Edward," it appears that prior to her marriage that she would have settled for Jacob and proceeded to pop out werewolf babies and be boringly sullen and brooding over her lost first love. But it's cool girls. Once you are off the market and your #2 main man is still looking for a mate, make sure he sees your offspring. She's just like you! Only newer and younger! A whole fresh new model just like you, but not you, because that would mean you were committing either polygamy or adultery. Both of which are normal occupational hazards of the extreme Mormon sects. Oh wait... 

Look. This book? Not really appropriate for any girl, woman, or grandmother. Terrible, horrible, and shameful writing aside, there is nothing that BD offers girls in the way of how to have safe and practical relationships that wont get them killed by some pervert wearing fake fangs and body glitter. Better life choices would include P.C. Cast, True Blood, and My Babysitter is a Vampire. 

I now need to go bleach my brain of all those remaining memories I have of the Twilight series. 

Grade: Fail^infinty

People Are Horrible Lazy Slobs

I'm going to start this post with a simple sentiment: people are gross. 

That is not to say that people, individuals, whatever, do not have regular cleansing schedule and know how to keep themselves germ free and healthy. What I completely do not understand is the general inability of the public to do such simple task of not leaving their shit all over the place. 

Confession. 

I can sometimes be one of those people. Inconsiderate of me, I know, but when I am on that subway, and I have finished with my Timmies Iced Cappachino, I will probably be leaving behind my cup. What? It does not fit into my purse! And it is so inconvenient to have to find something as ubiquitous as a garbage can once I have gotten off the subway. So I leave it behind. Besides, it is not like someone is going to call me one it. And what are the chances that I will be getting on the same subway car on any single given day? Slim too none. Out of sight, out of mind, no longer my problem. Don't you dare lie, I know you do it too. Fess up. 

Possibly not the garbage I am talking about.

But this is exactly where the problem starts. We are not responsible for having to tidy up after ourselves in public spaces. We have garbage pickers to pick up the trash we just cannot seem to manage to get into a garbage can, sidewalk sweepers to catch all those pesky cigarette butts stubbed out on the street, we are no longer even responsible for returning our shopping carts, we leave them for 16 year old's to wrangle and return. The idea of making the effort to do any small measure of keeping our spaces clean... we just bitch and moan about the sheer effort and indignity involved in such a monumental task, and then contract the work out to day laborers and underprivileged youth. And then, we pat ourselves on the back for creating minimum wage part-time jobs and walk away, probably leaving behind empty McDonald's wrappers and yet another smoldering ciggarette butt. 

Aight. So. Library tie in time. 

Theoretically, the library should be a clean place. You know, books are sacred, keep food and drink away from the books (and in this day and age, the computer too please, kthnxbi), treat the books with respect. Dammit  swaddle those motherfucking books like you would an infant.

Now, I understand that putting books back on the shelves is a daunting prospect. Actually, please do not even remotely even think about re-shelving anything, any. thing. We will hunt you down and shoot you for the good of humanity. Or the librarian equivalent of death of being drawn and quartered. But don't worry! To ensure that you do not commit such a heinous act and meet such a dreadfully painful end, we have a helpful cart for all the reject books that you thought you wanted, but actually don't. No worries, books do not have feelings! Or do they? 

Unfortunately, the cart is often left empty. Because it is in a clearly inappropriate, unavailable, and unreachable area of the library. Instead, books are left:

1. on the floor
2. stacked on chairs
3. hidden in the play castle
4. hidden inside our weird circle thingies that might be chairs or might be play equipment? 
5. under benches (still on the floor, but now hard to see and/or retrieve)
6. in the garbage
7. behind shelves

Of course, we also get the smuggled in discarded food wrappers, empty disposable water bottles, chewing gum ever so nicely left re-wrapped in their paper-or sometimes just stuck under tables, apple cores, forks, spoon and other assorted cutlery. Because clearly, the library, full of books that are actually exponentially easier to use when their pages are not crusted together with the juice from that nice hamburger you stealthily ate in the corner, is the place to eat your three course turkey dinner. 

Come on people!

The library is not your home! I mean, we are a nice place, occasionally quiet, and possibly actually cleaner than your own place that you pay for and possibly even maintain. It actually boggles my mind at the sheer amount of disregard that people show towards keeping the library space and contents clean. If I had it my way, which I do not (mores the pity), we would have little magical statues that would start yelling at you if you tried to re-shelve a book, hide a book so as to prevent the shame of placing an unwanted volume on our 'rejected and to be reshelved' book cart, attempt to eat anything and/or leave behind the remnants of a meal, or drop any form of garbage in the library space. And then kill you. If there were no witnesses. Or easily impressionable youth. Remember children: killing is wrong unless you are on a battlefield, and the library is a battlefield. And so is love, apparently. But I digress. 

I would of course be more reasonable towards the smallest of the small children, as they can't even get to the bathroom on their own, which is why we provide them with their own waste receptiveness conveniently attached to their nether-yay-yas. But once they hit the ripe old age of five, there should be some sort of fostered knowledge that garbage cans are where you throw out, well, garbage, and that you do not leave your toys all over the floor for one of your adult slaves to pick up after you. 

Actually, the sad truth is that it is the children who solemnly come up with their books to put on the cart, or with a fistful of garbage to be disposed of. The real culprits are the adults. Because man, they have their own adobes to keep clean, and this other secondary space? Not important. 

Buck adults, we are watching you, and waiting. You don't want to leave poor Polly to fend for herself now, do you?