 Hi, I'm going to read from Catcher and the Rye, which is a famous or even infamous book that's frequently been banned, and I do think this book has done some damage. I think this book has ruined a lot of good writers by making writing a good book, writing a great book, look very easy, which of course it is not. Here are some of the places where it has been a favorite target of censors. Recent examples include its removal from the Issaquah of Washington optional high school reading list, the required reading list in Middleville, Michigan, and the Jackson Middleton School Libraries in North Jackson, Ohio. It was removed from the school libraries in Morris, Manitoba along with two other books because they violated the committee's guidelines covering excessive vulgar language, sexual scenes, things concerning moral issues, excessive violence, and anything dealing with the occult. This is a scenes late in the book, which Holden Caulfield is on a date. He's on a date at a Broadway play with another young woman. At the end of the first act we went out with all the other jerks for a cigarette. What a deal that was. You never saw so many phonies in all your life. Everybody smoking their ears off and talking about the play so that everybody could hear and know how sharp they were. Some dopey movie actor was standing near us having a cigarette. I don't know his name, but he always plays the part of a guy in a war movie that gets yellow before it's time to go over the top. He was with some gorgeous blonde, and the two of them were trying to be very blasé and all, like as if he didn't even know people were looking at him, modest as hell. I got a big bang out of it. Old Sally didn't talk much, except to rave about the lunch because she was busy rubbering and being charming. Then all of a sudden she saw some jerk she knew on the other side of the lobby. Some guy in one of those very dark gray flannel suits and one of those checkered vests, strictly ivory lead, big deal. He was standing next to the wall smoking himself to death and looking bored as hell. Old Sally kept saying, I know that boy from somewhere. She always knew somebody. Anyplace she went or thought she did. She kept saying that till I got bored as hell. And I said to her, why don't you go on over and give him a big soul kiss if you know him? He'll enjoy it. She got sore when I said that. Finally though, the jerk noticed her and came over and said hello. You'd have thought they hadn't seen each other in 20 years. You'd have thought they'd taken baths in the same bathtub or something when they were little kids, old buddy ruse. It was nauseating. The funny part was they probably met each other just once at some phony party. Finally when they were all done slobbering around, Old Sally introduced us. His name was George something. I don't even remember. And he went to Andover, big, big deal. You should have seen him when Old Sally asked him how he liked the play. He was the kind of phony that had to give themselves room when they answer somebody's question. He stepped back and stepped right on the lady's foot behind him. He probably broke every toe in her body. He said the play itself was no masterpiece, but that the lumps, of course, were absolute angels. Angels for Christ's sake. Angels, that killed me. Then he and Old Sally started talking about a lot of people they both knew. It was the funniest conversation you ever heard in your life. They both kept thinking of places as fast as they could. Then they'd think of somebody that lived there and mentioned their name. I was all set to puke when it was time to go sit down again. It really was. And then when the next episode over, they continued their goddamn boring conversation. They kept thinking of more places and more names of people that lived there. The worst part was the jerk had one of those very phony, ugly voices. One of those tired, snobby voices. He sounded just like a girl. He didn't hesitate to horn on my date, though, the bastard. I even thought for a minute that he was going to get in the goddamn cab with us when the show was over, because he walked about two blocks with us. But he said he had to need a bunch of phonies for cocktails. I could see them all sitting around in some bar with their goddamn checkered vests criticizing shows in Brooks and Women and those tired, snobby voices. They kill me, those guys.