First was in Time magazine on a self-published author, Lisa Genova, whose novel "Still Alice" achieved fame via the Internet and fortune after being picked up by Simon & Schuster, who know a good thing when hit over the head by it.
The second was in today's Washington Post, on the Smithsonian trying to push its staff into 2.0dom.
[An aside here: The Smithsonian has now got 1,300 or so photos up on Flickr (see sample below). Small potatoes, given the size of the collection, TWP points out, but it's a start.]

Among the folk preaching to the museum skeptics was Chris Anderson of Wired, whose "long tail" concept essentially is that while the info beast is enormous, its tail tapers out to infinity; each of the segments on that long tail may appeal to a diminishing number of people but add up all those half-dozen here, half-dozen there folks and you get a number bigger than the beast.
Anderson says: "If you're given infinite choice and the tools to help you find stuff, then we will start to diversify our choice, and define our communities of interest. . . . It often turns out that the stuff we love the most is the stuff that's not the blockbuster. The stuff that we all like collectively -- the Super Bowl -- are things we don't feel as passionately about. Less popular things are actually more meaningful to us as individuals."
So, I have been pondering this:
If self-selected readers are now boosting unknown writers to the point that big-time publishers shell out half a million to get the book that already has a life of its own; and
If what gives people the greatest pleasure are the works that address their own quirky interests;
Should the library continue to concentrate its spending on the few mega names and the few mega sellers rather than single copies of a broader array of titles that will keep that long tail happily wagging?