Libraries adapt to depressed times. I've seen this: vagrants learning to use the Internet so they don't lose their temporary homes. I can sympathize. My mother taught me to revere libraries. The same afternoon she acquired a child's library card for me when I was six marked the day when I really started to become acquainted with myself. More than bookstores, more than alcohol, my university and local branches shaped the contours of my hedonism. I experimented without mercy, gorged without limits, tested the limits of my endurance, and forged lasting and temporary relationships. What are books for besides creating a sense of interiority?