Library bloggers have understandably expressed disappointment and incredulity over the overwhelming vote in the U.S. House of Representatives on July 25 in favor of H.R. 5319, DOPA, the Deleting Online Predators Act of 2006. A more descriptive name for the bill would be the Deleting Online Tools and Users Act. It is yet another attempt to use a nuclear bomb to solve a limited (albeit genuine and serious) problem–in other words, a solution that creates far many more problems than it solves. If the Senate compounds the House’s error by passing DOPA, it will “amend the Communications Act of 1934 to require recipients of universal service support for schools and libraries to protect minors from commercial social networking websites and chat rooms.”

Among early respondents were LibrarianInBlack Sarah Houhgton, Jessamyn West, Walt Crawford, Rochelle Hartman, and the American Library Association’s Washington Office.

Posturing politicians may win this battle against intellectual freedom, but as long as there are libraries, they can never win the war. Craig Newmark, founder of Craigslist, has said “The Net is not about technology, it’s about people.” Congress doesn’t seem to appreciate that. Libraries are far more about people than they are about technology. They are also places that, as ALA president Leslie Burger so eloquently explains, transform communities.

I recently read Ian McEwan’s Saturday, his novel set in London during the run-up to the invasion of Iraq. It can be read in many ways. And undoubtedly it has been discussed by many a book group in many a library. Henry Perowne, its main character, relies a bit too much on technology (in this case his BMW) and gets into a difficult situation in which there is plenty of blame to go around. He also gets into that situation by accepting at face value a bit of information about a road closing and by assuming that everyone else knows and interprets that information the way he does. Violence is averted thanks to his daughter’s recitation in a very tense situation of Matthew Arnold’s melancholy “Dover Beach,” implying that art and philosophy are every bit as important as technology. The climactic scene (I hate plot spoilers and won’t be one myself) finds Perowne taking responsibility for his part in creating the situation and making it better (but not perfect–some damage has been done). I read the novel as a cautionary tale about relying too much on the latest technology, about assuming a single interpretation of information is the sole interpretation, and about the value of taking a measured and well thought-out approach to conflict. I wonder how many readers who have borrowed Saturday from a library or who have met with their book group in a library to discuss the novel have come to similar conclusions–conclusions that I doubt Donald Rumsfeld would endorse.

Even if DOPA severely limits online access to and interaction with others in libraries that cannot afford to give up e-rate funds, those libraries will still be gathering places, places where people come together and exchange ideas. The library is the Ellis Island of ideas, welcoming them from all quarters and allowing people to mix and share ideas and generate new ones. So does the Internet. DOPA would deprive some library users of the opportunity to engage in that free exchange of ideas online at their libraries, but it cannot deprive them of the opportunity to exchange ideas and be exposed to ideas at their libraries. Some of those ideas might even be considered subversive by others!

This past week a worker digging an excavation in a bog in Ireland unearthed an ancient fragment of the Book of Psalms. Officials at the National Museum of Ireland, simultaneously ecstatic and gobsmacked, estimate that it is more than 1000 years old. The Irish Times reported that “The farmer on whose land it was found notified museum staff immediately.” Kudos to that farmer, first for recognizing the importance of this cultural artifact and, second, for placing it in the custody of an appropriate cultural institution rather than putting it up for sale on eBay!

Let me share a tale of two iPods. For about a year and a half I have had an iPod mini. I loaded music CDs into iTunes on the home computer, created some playlists, and learned to like and use this handy device despite iTunes' quirks. The labels iTunes applies to some music are often amusing, sometimes incomprehensible. Clearly, Apple won't be a voice in the debate over the future of LCSH and authority work.

For the most part, the division between these two iPods is a separation of the personal and the professional. I intermittently keep a journal. It is very rare that I share any of those personal reflections with anyone else. I'll continue to use my journal for introspection and the very, very personal. In Twilight Librarian I will share thoughts and ideas about professional issues and concerns. Some personal things will creep in, just as some personal podcasts have crept into the iPod mini. So you won't learn what I have eaten on a given day; our three children almost certainly don't want their lives discussed no matter how proud we may be of them; my wife is a very private person and likes it that way; and you won't read about what kept me awake during a recent night unless it relates somehow to my professional concerns. That is not to say, however, that my personal voice wont come through. If it doesn't, what's the point of a blog?

Why another blog by a librarian? The glib answer would be Why not?

I hope I will be able to contribute to the biblo/infoblogospheres vigorous conversation about the state of our field, its future, current issues in libraryland, and ideas that affect our profession.

Every library today–at least every library whose staff wants their library to have a successful future–is simultaneously developing its services based in its bricks-and-mortar manifestation and its services delivered through the Web and other communications media. The conversation about that future takes place in our libraries and at our conferences. One of the things I most value about participating in conferences is the opportunity to share ideas and learn things from colleagues I rarely see except at conferences. Blogs extend that opportunity through time without regard to space. I hope that my posts to Twilight Librarian will be conversation starters and that many will join in the conversations.

I love the twilight of morning and evening when light and darkness share the sky and gradually trade dominion over it. I think libraries today are in a time of twilight, a time when they grapple with challenge of deciding which “legacy” services to retain and keep vital while offering new services delivered through newer technologies. We are not in the dark, but nor are we in the bright light of day where we can see our path clearly. We are in the twilight, working to assure a glorious sunshine rather than darkness for our libraries, for those whom they serve, and for our profession.

So please share your knowledge and debate ideas so that we can shed light on important issues.