Hello, everyone. My name is Marcel and I’m a technology addict.
I stand before you today, naked (figuratively speaking, of course), laying my deepest, darkest, secrets out for all to see. You see, I love technology. All kinds of technology. Computers. Televisions. Cars. Smart phones. Computer programs. Airplanes. Linux distributions. Keychains with tiny screens to display family photos. Bluetooth headsets. Satellites. Video games. Coffee makers. Spaceships. Remote controlled toy helicopters. High speed networks. Model rockets. Timepieces. Microwave ovens.You get the idea. I’ve always felt that the problem isn’t too much technology, but too little and insufficiently advanced technology. I’m also a believer that really, really great tech is what’s going to save us and propel us to the next stage of human evolution. I love looking at new technology. Touching new technology.
Trying out new technology. I am forced to admit that I may have a problem.
Don’t get me wrong. I still believe all those things. What? Did you think this was an Alcoholics Anonymous style confession? Nothing of the sort. The problem is that I place so much faith in tech that when it fails, I feel personally victimised, as though all those wondrous things I so love have betrayed me. This is especially true when it’s something I think is really, really good. Yes, my 2000 Honda Accord blew a cylinder a few days ago, forcing me to abandon it (I donated it to the Kidney Foundation, actually) and forcing me to go out car shopping. I bought a new Nissan Altima by the way. And yes, it’s got really cool technology on board — I can’t believe it took that long for me to get a car with a push button starter and no need to insert a key. But I digress . . .
Read the rest of the story.