It may be a bit of a stretch to see a Web site as a metaphorical anathema to one’s philosophical bent, but there is something deeply disturbing about eBay. Something that at once makes me feel offput, angry and sad. It is unsettling to have such a personal reaction to a font of commerce.

I think the themes running through eBay promote the value of profit uber alles. Wheedling sellers learn how to bilk you for the last penny for a used pair of socks or something useless and ostensibly collectible. The, granted, free market that this provides succor to is a product of our capitalistic society, sure, and it’s up to everyone in this great free country to decide that they need every shade of pot holder minted in 1923.

But there’s something darker here, something that gives ninja buyers glee when they use their sniping software to snatch up an item at—literally–the last second. Something that makes the pot holder buyer smug when they buy that golden pot holder at a third of its market value from some unsuspecting rube who doesn’t know its true value. I know, you could argue that people should know the value of what they’re selling or buying, but it’s the thrilled “I-just-pulled-something-over-on-someone-I-win-and-they-lose” assholery that wears me down.

I see a lot of anger and suspicion and repellent use of underlined red text and animated GIFs. It’s a weird collective clique of people who know nothing about each other but avidly whirl on their hamster wheel to chink up another few points to beat you or get a fucking star by their name. Sorry. The sadness is making me want to lie down on the floor again.

I think the moment that I realized how saddened I was was when I looked at the antiquarian books section. The vast majority of what’s listed there are beautiful individual pages, some up to almost 600 years old; illuminated leaves from Qurans and prayer books. They sell for around $40 a page. Presumably that ups the profit as opposed to selling the actual book. So people are, I’m making an assumption here, likely irrevocably destroying 450-year-old books so that they can make more money.*

Recently, I also saw a local news magazine on which patrollers in rural parts of the state lamented how vandals were hacking off pieces of rock with Native American petroglyphs on them to sell them on eBay. I don’t know how else to put this: What the hell is wrong with you people?! Whose value system allows this?

I’ve never won an auction on eBay. The only things I’ve obtained therein are those with the buy-it-now option. I don’t have the tooth-bared energy for it. OK, by this point you’re likely scowling at your monitor wondering why I complain so much and why can’t I just not use eBay if it gives me such a rod up my ass? The problem is my letterpress habit. Because not much new letterpress stuff is generated anymore–it’s kind of dead like the Latin language–eBay is a major source. Right now I desperately need brass and copper thin spaces. I can’t find them except there. Sigh.

Yesterday I realized I had about 4 pounds of extra letterpress spacing. I briefly considered selling it, but then I laughed at myself ruefully. I drove downtown and donated it to the local non-profit Independent Publisher’s Resource Center (IPRC).

* I don’t get off scot-free here either. I had a sudden epiphany that two of the artifacts I have in my library–an illuminated leaf from a manuscript from 1450 and a large map from 1634 made from two leaves of an atlas–might have meant the destruction of their containing volumes. Both, however, were bought through reputable antiquarians and I hope that the books they came out of might have been in rough shape or unbound. But, really, I am probably just rationalizing. I will think long and hard before I make such purchases in the future.

p.p.s. The UI is also horrible.