A.G. and Dr. M. are in the limo. A.G. says, "It's killing you, isn't it?" Wow, how does he know how I feel? Wait, he's talking to Dr. M. Referring to the steak/starving man metaphor, Dr. M. says, "It's like being a farmer, but everything you grow kills people instead of nourishing them. Wanna know the irony?" Uh, it's SO FUCKING OBVIOUS, what are you going to do, spell it out? Write it in the sky? Call me up and tell me personally over the phone? "I remember the day I got my first library card," but he doesn't say the date. It's this non-attention to detail I hate a lot. "[The library] was clean. They had air conditioning. They had a water fountain...the water was icy cold. That's why I went there, to get out of the heat." Ooh, what a paradise! Of course, if we knew where the doctor was FROM, this might have more meaning. Is he talking about the heat of New Orleans in August? That would be hot. He goes on to say when he was twelve he came across Dickens's A Christmas Carol, and because he saw the Mr. Magoo cartoon, he thought the book would be a hoot. Then, at age fifteen, he stole a copy of Gray's Anatomy, just to have it on his shelf at home. Then, it was just like Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart: Having the book filled him with guilt. A.G. groans appreciatively at this metaphor; he thought the book was scary too. Help, my eyes are stuck in the back of my head. Dr. M. was caught putting the book back on the shelf, and was banned from the library for three months. Boo freaking hoo. Dr. M. sees some sort of commotion outside the limo and orders the driver to pull over.
There's a good old-fashioned book burning going on. The crowd is riled up and the flames are high. A rabble-rouser screams, "C'mon! We gotta burn 'em, burn 'em all!" Dr. M. drops to his knees (at the same time I do) and sees that some of the books still have words in them. The rabble-rouser screams some more, "They're bad! They have germs! We gotta kill 'em!" Through the flames a little girl sniffles and holds on to her copy of A Christmas Carol until her father pries it out of her fingers and throws it on the pile. Bringing the kids to a book burning -- an interesting choice. Dr. M. watches her through the flames with NO EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE AT ALL.
Church. The priest goes on about how he can't ask the congregation to turn to a page in the hymnal, or read along, and that the last copy of the Gutenberg Bible in the Library of Congress is now gone. People gasp. I can't roll my eyes anymore, they're tired. "Let us prey to stave off our despair as out printed history disappears." Dr. M. is there, covering his eyes. A kindly old man tells him, "They find a cure for everything." Tell it to the common cold, cancer, and AIDS patients out there. They're waiting for a cure too. Dr. M. cries, I think.