I am currently reading "A Just and Seasonable Reprehension of Naked Breasts and Shoulders: Written by a Grave and Learned Papist" (1678). Next up: "Arrowes Against Babylon: Or, Certaine Quaeries Serving to a Cleere Discovery of the Mystery of Iniquity" (1656). Fanatical conservatives seem much funnier after they've been dead for a few centuries. And it's a good thing they do, otherwise I might be reluctant to spend a Friday evening downloading material from Early English Books Online.

Just a few years ago, I would have had to look up all these citations, locate each of them on a separate microfilm reel, load them up, and pass the section I needed eight or nine times, because microfilm machines only run at "warp speed" or "geologic time." Once I got to the right section, I'd have the option of either printing the document out at 25 cents per page or spending the next week in a dank library basement that smelled vaguely of the tuna fish sandwich some grad student ate there in blatant disregard of library rules, because come on, they're not going to send the pop cops down to the microfilm room.

I'd like to say that those long hours built character--that I somehow emerged from the library basement a better scholar and more admirable human being. Unfortunately, that's not true. I do, however, hold out some hope that after the cyborg revolution devastates modern computing as we know it, it will once again be important that I know how to use a card catalog. The kind with cards.