Why James Franco Should Visit My Library

I recently signed up for an account on Twitter, Tweeter, Twiddling Thumbs, whatever-it's-called. I also started a blog about my books.
These are all things that a few months ago I would have said I had a 0.01% chance of doing.

Well, I am enjoying myself. Perhaps it's because I feel almost as if my library has gained another dimension. And with my dreams of starting a private university, I have always felt that my books are meant to be appreciated by other people, not just me.

On Twilight in Winter (I just can't bear to type that I was on Twitter), handy little suggestions pop up helpfully in your browser. I hadn't heard of any of them, until a familiar face came up: James Franco.
I've always loved James Franco, but not for the usual reasons. I haven't seen many of his movies, except for "Howl" and "Milk," less mainstream ones that I adored. My favorite piece of film that I saw him in wasn't a movie, but a short clip by the New York Times called 14 Actors Acting where he kisses himself in a mirror. It was like Borges and Kundera had made a beautiful collaboration on film.
But to me, James Franco isn't primarily an actor, he's a professor, a poet, an intellectual, a reader of Ulysses. And who else is all that?

So, James.

Here's why you should come and visit my library.

1. Because I live in Miami. And, as Tweeting Bird so cleverly informed me, you are currently in Miami.

2. You're not only in Miami, you're here for the Miami Gay & Lesbian Film Festival. I'm not exactly gay, and I'm not lesbian, but I'm not really straight, and there is probably some sort of connection to something there, but basically, that's a great reason to visit a city.

3. Because intellectuals belong in libraries, and my books belong with intellectuals. Living in Miami, they don't get such company very often.

4. You can sign my copy of "Palo Alto," but more importantly, you can sign my California book. I try to collect books about every place on earth, and whenever I meet someone from there, I have them sign the book. Care for your signature to join the names of a beautiful copy-editor raised in a cult, a literal rocket scientist, a cheating ex, and a surfer who was afraid of water?

5. Because I want to know all about everyone's books. What books have you brought on planes? Found in strange places? What books were written just for you? Which poets make you want to write something important? Which books make you feel like you should have written that?

6. Because none of my 3,000 books care about Twittering Sparrows and social media and pop culture and paparazzi. Some of them know about movies, but they consider "the book to be better." Most of the time they're right. None of my books have ever heard of you. They really have no idea who you are, except an intellectual who knows about Kafka and Ginsberg (so probably Kerouac, too) and such people, and about the beauty of poetry and art.