Today I deactivated my Facebook account after reaching a sad realization:

A depressingly large number of the people I have heretofore regarded as friends, some of them even family members, are fatuous demagogues and apologists or advocates for my enslavement.  I am simply no longer capable of civility toward these individuals in any of my interactions with them: until they experience a Road to Damascus moment and then proceed to beg my forgiveness for the various thefts of my liberty that they’ve abetted, I want nothing more to do with them.

Some may regard this as harsh.  But let’s be clear about what we’re discussing.  Practical politics is one thing: concluding that the Democratic Party is, relative to the GOP, the lesser of two evils and reluctantly handing it electoral power is not some apostasy.  However, to enthusiastically support ObamaCare, and to race-bait principled opponents in the vilest fashion, is something else altogether, and something I will not stand for.

Today I found some writing that I thought formed a useful sorting mechanism:

I’m going to put the alternative to everyone, in terms of a plain concrete, one that lays it out in no uncertain, clear-cut terms, that will separate the moral adults from the altruist children.

It runs as follows:

There is someone in front of you asking for help, and you have plenty of money.  Do you have the moral right to say no?

His need is genuine.   Do you still have the moral right to say no?

It’s not his fault.  Do you still have the moral right to say no?

It’s a very pressing need.  Do you still have the moral right to say no?

It’s a child.   Do you still have the moral right to say no?

If you do not answer “Yes” all the way down the line — if you do not assert your individual moral sovereignty, if you do not assert your right to choose as being morally prior to anyone’s need –

– than SHUT UP and get out of the way.  You are not morally equipped to partake in this battle, let alone win it, and you are wasting your time.

Now PAY ATTENTION, please.

Notice that I am NOT asking what you believe you should choose.  I am NOT asking you whether you should give to the needy.

I am asking you whether the choice is morally yours, all the way down the line.  I am asking you whether you believe that you still have the moral right to exist after saying “No”.

The writer is addressing Tea Partiers, but I think it can be addressed to other individuals as well.  Either you are willing to demand the full measure of American liberty for yourself and others, or you are not.

Time to choose.  I am weary of trying to find different, polite ways of telling people that I will not be blackmailed by tyrants employing the needy as human shields.  If you will, I think that’s very sad, and I feel sorry for you.  But if you’ll go so far as to cheerlead for these bastards while they go about extinguishing my freedoms, then you are not my friend, and never were, because real friends don’t sell friends into bondage.

As I noodle about the thing further, I think Tam has the right of it:

Fearless Prediction of the trajectory of “$Apple Product” (where “$Apple Product” != “Newton”):

1) Product is hyped to the sky before anybody’s seen one.
2) Product is released. Mac Fanboys line up to get raped at Apple stores worldwide.
3) Cutting edge Linux-using nerds mock it mercilessly for missing features and/or compromised functionality.
4) Mac Fanboys make tearful “Leave Britney Alone!” videos, defending their overpriced, underfunctioning tchotchkes.
5) Six to twelve months later, Apple releases “”$Apple Product G2“, with its deficiencies corrected and the price slashed by half.
6) Mac Fanboys howl bloody murder.
7) Everyone buys one, or a clone of one, as another industry gets altered for good.

And yet every time the loyal faithful can be found outside the Apple store on opening day, slightly dazed-looking, bowlegged, and holding large sums of crumpled bills in one sweaty hand and a tube of KY in the other, ready to do it all again…

So it’s “wait for the second-generation version,” then.

I am not susceptible to Steve Jobs’ Reality Distortion Field.  Apple’s recipe for computing and consumer electronics is to wrap mediocre-to-decent technology in fantastic industrial design, promote its products as a lifestyle choice for the discerning consumer, and then charge said discerning consumers a small fortune for the privilege of owning an Apple product (and being subject to platform lock-in that’s arguably even worse than what one experiences with Microsoft).  So while I own a 3G iPhone I have no illusions about it: sure, it’s one of the better smartphones on the market, but the Droid kicks its ass in a number of significant ways.  Similarly, while I enjoy Justin Long’s work, I’m not likely to be in the market for a Mac anytime soon.

This all said, I’m guardedly interested in the iPad notwithstanding the epic product marketing fail that is the gadget’s name.  Here’s why: in mid-2008 I bought what was then a pretty high-end Dell widescreen gaming laptop because my desktop machine was getting long in the tooth.  Even now, almost two years old, it’s a fairly adequate desktop replacement.  Last year, though, I bought a new desktop and actually tried using the laptop as a portable, first during the California Bar Exam and then bringing it on flights from San Francisco to Boston and back again.  It’s an absolute boat anchor: my shoulders still haven’t recovered, I don’t think.  As a result, over the last few months I’ve been quietly eyeing netbooks, the Kindle, the Nook, and Sony’s eReader to see if any of these platforms offered the combination of portability and function that the laptop just plain lacks.

“What about your iPhone?”  someone inevitably asks at this point.  Well, as I said above, it’s certainly one of the better smartphones on the market.  The problem is that there’s a fair bit of connected functionality that’s compromised by trying to scale it down to a handheld form factor.  Web surfing and eBook-reading are good examples: Safari and the Kindle reader app are fine and all, but anybody who doesn’t get serious eyestrain after about ten minutes of staring at the 3½” screen is a mutant from the planet Zyrgon.  The iPhone, like all smartphones, is a phone, contact manager, and music player first and foremost; extensible, sure, but portable computing solutions of last resort.

I’ve been similarly unenthused about the various e-reader gizmos.  They’re all perfectly nifty, but they’re dedicated devices and that leaves me cold.  Can’t, for example, watch streaming video on or blog from a Kindle.

So that leaves me in Netbookville, for all intents and purposes.  But for whatever reason I just haven’t been able to fall sufficiently in like with a netbook to bring myself to buy one.  They’re so small as to feel like kiddie laptops, and when you’re dealing with a 9″ LCD screen there’s something to be said for tall and narrow (like an e-reader) rather than short and wide (like a laptop).  Tablet PC manufacturers were, I think, onto something, even if the category never quite took off the way they hoped.

Thus, the iPad.  Ignoring the Kool-Aid guzzling clowns who’re claiming this heralds the end of the PC era, it seems to be a pretty good, though not perfect, solution.  It’s small and light.  While manufacturer propaganda about battery life is an open joke in the industry, if the iPad’s good for even half of what Apple claims it’ll be competitive with netbooks and have enough juice for a cross-continental plane flight.  It’ll run everything the iPhone can.  Though I’m skeptical about the iPad’s backlit screen being as easy on the eyes as the e-ink on a Kindle, the iBook store seems like another way for Jobs to part me from my hard-earned quatloos.

The same things that Troy Wolverton mentions are giving me pause, though: the inability of the OS to multitask is barely excusable on the iPhone, and it’s completely inexcusable in something that’s being positioned to compete with netbooks.  Even the crappiest netbook will let me run an email client and a web browser at the same time.  Similarly, the fact that the iPad doesn’t support Flash media is a ball of suck (though I’m pleased to see that unlike the current iPhone OS the iPad will finally — finally! — support .vcf files).  Wolverton’s also cranky about the absence of a front-facing digital camera for videoconferencing applications, but that doesn’t bother me so much; it’s not like I do a lot of videoconferencing.

Here’s what I’d love to have: an iPad app that’s a visual client for Westlaw.  Any takers?

Um.  Apple?  Serious product marketing fail.

UPDATE: FailBlog provides a visual aid.

Having been raised Catholic (though largely lapsed to agnosticism, at this point), I am keenly aware of the difference between regret and repentance.  Regret is easy (“I’m sorry I threw up on your sofa.”).  Repentance, on the other hand, requires both penance and a commitment to sin no more (“I’m sorry I threw up on your sofa; I’ll pay to get it cleaned, and that’s the last time I spend a night out doing Jagermeister shots.”).

It is because of my understanding of this distinction that I am so very, very weary of expressions of regret from the business interests I interact with.  While the apology, however platitudinous, is appreciated, it neither fixes the problem nor indicates that you are serious about preventing it from recurring.

My landlord inspired this rant.  UPS and Fedex deliver packages to the rental office rather than leaving them unattended at the front door of our apartment.  This is appreciated, even though the rental office’s 9:30am – 6:30pm weekday business hours make it a bit of a pain to pick up said packages during the week.  Typically it involves going in to work a little late, leaving a little early, or skipping out for an hour or so during the middle of the day.

But when I get to the rental office this morning, shortly after it was scheduled to open, I was greeted with a sign taped on the inside of the door indicating that they’ll be closed until noon, and they apologize for any inconvenience.

Your apology is not accepted, you wankers, especially given that this is at least the third time this has happened.  You have needlessly wasted my time and raised my blood pressure.  Keep regular business hours or at least announce when you’re going to be closed in advance of the closure.