The original of this was the Ravers Manifesto, which can be found ad nauseum on the Internet. I have changed it slightly for Librarians, hopefully in a humourous manner.
Our emotional state of choice is ecstasy. Our nourishment of choice
is Love. Our addiction of choice is Technology. Our religion of
choice is reference. Our currency of choice is knowledge. Our politics of
choice is none. Our society of choice is utopian though we know it
will never be.
You may hate us. You may dismiss us. You may misunderstand us. You
may be unaware of our existence. We can only hope you do not care to
judge us, because we would never judge you. We are not criminals. We
are not disillusioned. We are not drug addicts. We are not naive
children. We are one massive, global, tribal village that transcends
man-made law, physical geography, and time itself. We are The
Library. One massive Library.
We were first drawn by the sound of a book page turning. From far away, the thunderous,
muffled, echoing beat was comparable to a mother’s heart soothing a
child in her womb of concrete, steel, and electrical wiring. We were
drawn back into this womb, and there, in the heat, dampness, and
darkness of it, we came to accept that we are all equal. Not only to
the darkness, and to ourselves, but to the very sound of words slamming into
us and passing through our souls: we are all equal. And somewhere
around 027 (DDC22) we could feel the hand of God at our backs, pushing us
forward, pushing us to push ourselves to strengthen our minds, our
bodies, and our spirits. Pushing us to turn to the person beside us
to join hands and uplift them by sharing the uncontrollable joy we
felt from creating this magical bubble that can,
protect us from the horrors, atrocities, and pollution of the outside
world. It is in that very instant, with these initial realizations
that each of us was truly born.
We continue to pack our bodies into depositories, or warehouses, or
buildings you’ve abandoned and left for naught, and we bring life to
them. Strong, throbbing, vibrant life in it’s purest,
most intense, most hedonistic form. In these makeshift spaces, we
seek to shed ourselves of the burden of uncertainty for a future you
have been unable to stabilize and secure for us. We seek to
relinquish our inhibitions, and free ourselves from the shackles and
restraints you’ve put on us for your own peace of mind. We seek to re-
write the programming that you have tried to indoctrinate us with
since the moment we were born. Programming that tells us to hate,
that tells us to judge, that tells us to stuff ourselves into the
nearest and most convenient pigeon hole possible. Programming that
even tells us to climb ladders for you, jump through hoops, and run
through mazes and on hamster wheels. Programming that tells us to eat
from the shiny silver spoon you are trying to feed us with, instead
of nourish ourselves with our own capable hands. Programming that
tells us to close our minds, instead of open them.
Until the sun rises to burn our eyes by revealing the distopian
reality of a world you’ve created for us, we catalogue fiercely with our
brothers and sisters in celebration of our life, of our culture, and
of the values we believe in: Peace, Love, Freedom, Tolerance, Unity,
Harmony, Expression, Responsibility and Respect.
Our enemy of choice is ignorance. Our weapon of choice is
information. Our crime of choice is breaking and challenging whatever
laws you feel you need to put in place to stop us from celebrating
our existence. But know that while you may shut down any given Library,
on any given night, in any given city, in any given country or
continent on this beautiful planet, you can never shut down the
entire Library system. You don’t have access to that switch, no matter what
you may think. The bibliography will never stop. The heartbeat will never
fade. The Library will never end.
I am a Librarian, and this is my manifesto.