Small though they may be, emojis resonate with populist power: Over 300 million images are shared daily by Facebook users; 45 million are posted through Instagram (Rock). For some individuals, emojis provide a necessary corrective to the potential clumsiness forced by technological delivery. Japanese author Motoko Tamamuro explains that the Japanese "tend to imply things instead of explicitly expressing them, so reading the situation and sensing the mood are very important. We take extra care to consider other people's feelings when writing correspondence, and that's why emoji became so useful in email and text – to introduce more feeling into a brevitised form of communication" (qtd. in Marsden). Tamamuro's concerns are similar to those early English-language adopters of emoticons—wary of language's missteps and interested in closing as many gaps between intended and received communication.
It was dem Carpetbaggers dat ‘stroyed de country. Dey went an’ turned us loose, jus’ lak a passel o’ cattle, an’ didn’ show us nothin’ or giv’ us nothin’. Dey was acres an’ acres o’ lan’ not in use, an’ lots o’ timber in dis country. Dey should-a give each one o’ us a little farm an’ let us git out timber an’ build houses. Dey ought to put a white Marster over us, to show us an’ make us work, only let us be free ‘stead o’ slaves. I think dat could-a been better’n turnin’ us lak dey done.
KCLS saw steady growth in the 1940s and 1950s, and some of the early libraries were quaint indeed . But as the post war-generation began to boom, larger and more state-of-the art libraries were needed throughout the county. In 1964, the Federal Library Service and Construction Act of 1957 was amended to extend library aid to non-rural areas, and federal matching funds allowed many libraries to expand and rebuild. The late 1980s and early 1990s also saw a population increase, and by the turn of the twenty-first century KCLS had grown from its modest rural roots into one of King County's largest and most popular civic institutions.