Knowledge is specific to a person. It’s information that has been filtered by a person’s interests and integrated into his or her understanding. All that stuff you get from a Google search is information. You select a few bits from search and learn more about them, and some of them became part of your knowledge base – integrated into the arguments you make and how you think about things. Information itself is like a treasure chest – multiple users can draw from it and make knowledge from it in different ways.
I felt a freedom there, a freedom that makes perfect sense if you recall that while our library derives from the Latin liber, meaning the inner bark of a tree—an early form of paper—the primary meaning of the word is “free, independent, unrestrained.” Books and liberty are born of the same parent.
—Susan Olding, “Library Haunting”
via: Utne Reader
The Irish fanned out across Europe, salvaging books wherever they could, making copies, reassembling libraries and teaching the newly settled barbarians of the continent to read and write.
But they did more than this: they managed to infuse the emerging medieval world with a playfulness previously unknown. In the margins of the books they copied, the Irish scribes drew little pictures, thickets of plants, flowers, birds and animals…
As the public grows more desperate, scholars are working to randomly italicize different sections of the text, hoping the italics will land on the important parts and allow everyone to go on with their day. For now, though, millions of panicked and exhausted Americans continue to repetitively search the single column of print from top to bottom and right to left, looking for even the slightest semblance of meaning or perhaps a blurb.