I have a friend back east who loved old houses. She and her husband bought a rambling old three story farmhouse in an older neighborhood. Over almost 20 years, they wallpapered, and refinished, and repainted, and rebuilt. And when she finally got it just the way she wanted it -- she sold it.
Recently, I had the pleasure of reading to Mrs. Roisun's 2nd grade class at Rock Ridge Elementary. The day before, I had happened across a very funny story called "Rindercella" on the Internet. As a lad who could not pronounce "bathtub" (I said "tathbub" well into elementary school), I found this strangely compelling.
September 20-27 is what the American Library Association calls "Banned Books Week." This is the 16th year of its observance.
I think of it like this: libraries try to stay on guard against censorship, much as firefighters keep an eye out for smoke. Banned Books Weeks is a Fire Prevention Week for libraries.
Ever since Jan Harold Brunvand came up the phrase "urban legend" (in his book, The Choking Doberman and Other New Urban Legends, among others) we've all gotten a little savvier about those stories that "really happened" to the now-proverbial FOF (friend of a friend).