20,000 pages long (I may be off by an order of magnitude one way
or another here). Sure, presidential debates are conducted in
soundbites today and not the days-long oratory extravaganzas of
the Lincoln-Douglas debates, but people manage to pay attention
to the 24-month-long presidential campaigns from start to finish.

7. We need *all* the ebooks. [We need *all* the ebooks] The vast
majority of the words ever penned are lost to posterity. No one
library collects all the still-extant books ever written and no
one person could hope to make a dent in that corpus of written
work. None of us will ever read more than the tiniest sliver of
human literature. But that doesn't mean that we can stick with
just the most popular texts and get a proper ebook revolution.

For starters, we're all edge-cases. Sure, we all have the shared
desire for the core canon of literature, but each of us want to
complete that collection with different texts that are as
distinctive and individualistic as fingerprints. If we all look
like we're doing the same thing when we read, or listen to music,
or hang out in a chatroom, that's because we're not looking
closely enough. The shared-ness of our experience is only present
at a coarse level of measurement: once you get into really
granular observation, there are as many differences in our
"shared" experience as there are similarities.

More than that, though, is the way that a large collection of
electronic text differs from a small one: it's the difference
between a single book, a shelf full of books and a library of
books. Scale makes things different. Take the Web: none of us can
hope to read even a fraction of all the pages on the Web, but by