The librarian attempts to sell you a vuvuzela

Summary

Imagine entering the biggest library in the world. You peer down an incredibly long aisle with wooden bookshelves brimming with books. You can see multiple such corridors, all lit with a comfortable warm light. There’s a rich smell of old paper. You can hear some muted voices, perhaps arguing in a whisper. It’s perfect, but vast and difficult to make sense of. Just this day, it doesn’t feel like such a terrible ordeal to just wander for a while, see where your legs take you. Maybe you’ll find something interesting completely by accident? The prospect is both exhilarating and daunting. The library appears endless, it feels like you could potentially find all sorts of exotic and interesting book collections.As you happily stroll down the aisles, you’re suddenly beset by a librarian. The librarian immediately attempts to sell you a vuvuzela.I noticed you’re headed for the musical instrument section, you see. I found lots of excellent vuvuzelas of the highest possible quality, there’s a fantastic discount right now! There are only nine left, hurry up and buy one!You angrily dismiss the pushy librarian and resume your leisurely stroll. You decide to browse the musical instrument section. Musical instruments are interesting. You pick out a book from the shelf, it appears to be named “History of the Piano.” You leaf through some pages. Oddly, there doesn’t appear to be any real content, just references to piano training classes you can buy.That’s odd. You pick up another one, also named “History of the Piano,” but it appears to be filled with ads for piano paintings you can pay for. You look at the bookshelf. There are many shelf-meters of books with the same title. How are you going to find the one that actually has real content? Do any?As you browse, another librarian passes by:People who enjoyed the history of the piano really loved these vuvuzelas…It used to be easier to find good content#The library is a metaphor for the modern internet. The librarian is perhaps ...