Bored

Yes, I am bored. Today, I went out with Gramma so that I could help her get a library card. Of course, I had some self-interest in mind, I need books to read. In my massive boredom, I have actually read the newspaper, and I actually seem to read too quickly, and find my days still empty and my mind craving more entertainment. So we went to the library today. The Flushing Library has an embarrassingly paltry literary selection. It's consisted entirely of best-sellers and that Oprah list of good books to read. Most of it is in paperback, and most of it comes in multiple copies. I find myself looking at only V.C. Andrews and popular Romance novels complete with half naked men and women foreplaying on the covers. My god, is that the only stuff people want to read? Of course, once in a while, you can sift through the piles of Anne Rice and find a pretty good book. I managed to rustle up "I, Robot," which up till now I haven't had a chance to read. My brain practically inhaled the book, and now it's busily asking for more Asimov. Except that it's the only Asimov book in the entire library. Yes, I'm not exaggerating. And there's only two Bradbury books. As for the classics, like Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice, I haven't a clue if they've hidden those away somewhere.
Anyway, "I, Robot" was great. I have no clue how they managed to turn that into a movie, since the story was actually several that took place over the course of an old lady's career. I suppose they took the idea of a robot committing murder and stuffed it into some action packed story, turning that icy old woman into the voluptuous, hollywood dame that Will Smith's character will promptly fall in love with. Never mind the fact that the book states clearly that she is a plain looking woman who likes robots way more than she's ever liked humans. They always mess the stories up so badly...
In any case, I guess I can understand how crappy the library is. It is, after all, New York City, where those who want to read are rich enough to buy what they want, and those who only read a little only care for V.C. Andrews and the like. I need to go to Danbury in a couple weeks and take out as many books as I can carry back to NY.
What really pisses me off is that the cover has Will Smith on it. His character doesn't even exist in the book. The robopsychologist does all the brainwork in the book. Fine, I don't have to be a purist about it all, but I figure, as long as the very basic idea of the book is kept, then it's all right. I suppose that's what offended me so much about "the Bourne Identity." Even the meaning of the phrase, "the Bourne Identity" was completely ignored in the movie.