(Groucho) Marxist (John) Lennonism
When my mostly non-violent takeover of the library system is complete, I'll be instituting a new policy of absolute subjectivism in regard to the payment of library fines. This new regime will proceed by (loosely) enforcing our new core principles of more-or-less-instant karma, relaxed accounting, and basic human decency.
Some days it starts from the first few moments after we open up. Some reliable patron will come in and return a few books a few days late, and I'll just feel wrong about applying the seemingly trivial $0.10-per-day fine to such a good old friend of the library. Maybe 45 minutes later a dude who is definitely down on his financial luck will return some videos a few days late. I can tell that Blockbuster would probably turn him away for lacking proof of ID or a current credit card, so I'll cut him a break and while no one is looking I'll erase his fines. Later on, a family with six kids will return a mountain of stuff one day late, but rather than those ten cents adding up and equalling their gas money for a week, I'll just set the computer back a day and check their books in as if nothing was wrong.
So I'm an unpredictable Robin Hood of the library system. My generosity flows subjectively, though, as I was saying. If someone is a careless repeat offender, or someone's been holding on to a super-popular title for months, I'm not gonna be kind, and they're gonna get fined. If I don't like the looks of them, the fine stands. If they have confederate flag patches on their jacket or a "W" lapel pin, I'd triple their fines if I could. That's just me; I'm subjective. I mean, there are days when I would strictly enforce the ten cent fine on Albert Schweitzer if he showed up one day late with a medical text he'd been using to save thousands of third world lives. Some days I just feel like sticking to the letter of the law. Like most subjectivists, there are days where I just feel like being an iron-fisted objectivist, but the feeling rarely lasts long.
When some beleaguered mom appears genuinely amazed that her pile of one-day-late Dora the Explorer DVDs ($0.50-per-day fines) is going to set her back an Andrew Hamilton, I might just magnanimously shrug and send her off with a "Just be more careful next time, ma'am," like I'm a highway patrolmen letting a speeder get off with a warning. Then again, I've had people argue with me about their fines and accuse the library of getting rich by applying these ten-cents-a-day penalties. (I guess they must have noticed my Lexus in the parking lot when they returned those three-months-overdue "Ab Workouts for Dummies" videotapes.) All I'm saying is consider the benefits of instant karma, people, and tip your Circ. Clerks generously.
Some days it starts from the first few moments after we open up. Some reliable patron will come in and return a few books a few days late, and I'll just feel wrong about applying the seemingly trivial $0.10-per-day fine to such a good old friend of the library. Maybe 45 minutes later a dude who is definitely down on his financial luck will return some videos a few days late. I can tell that Blockbuster would probably turn him away for lacking proof of ID or a current credit card, so I'll cut him a break and while no one is looking I'll erase his fines. Later on, a family with six kids will return a mountain of stuff one day late, but rather than those ten cents adding up and equalling their gas money for a week, I'll just set the computer back a day and check their books in as if nothing was wrong.
So I'm an unpredictable Robin Hood of the library system. My generosity flows subjectively, though, as I was saying. If someone is a careless repeat offender, or someone's been holding on to a super-popular title for months, I'm not gonna be kind, and they're gonna get fined. If I don't like the looks of them, the fine stands. If they have confederate flag patches on their jacket or a "W" lapel pin, I'd triple their fines if I could. That's just me; I'm subjective. I mean, there are days when I would strictly enforce the ten cent fine on Albert Schweitzer if he showed up one day late with a medical text he'd been using to save thousands of third world lives. Some days I just feel like sticking to the letter of the law. Like most subjectivists, there are days where I just feel like being an iron-fisted objectivist, but the feeling rarely lasts long.
When some beleaguered mom appears genuinely amazed that her pile of one-day-late Dora the Explorer DVDs ($0.50-per-day fines) is going to set her back an Andrew Hamilton, I might just magnanimously shrug and send her off with a "Just be more careful next time, ma'am," like I'm a highway patrolmen letting a speeder get off with a warning. Then again, I've had people argue with me about their fines and accuse the library of getting rich by applying these ten-cents-a-day penalties. (I guess they must have noticed my Lexus in the parking lot when they returned those three-months-overdue "Ab Workouts for Dummies" videotapes.) All I'm saying is consider the benefits of instant karma, people, and tip your Circ. Clerks generously.
posted by DaysOfOurLibrary at 2:12 PM
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