Things I hate. Chapter 37.

I hear they had to hire extra custodial help at the Moscone Center in San Francisco today: too many people were having spontaneous orgasms over the appearance of Steve Jobs and his latest array of iParaphernalia. That kind of thing can get messy real fast. Or so I'm told.

You know, this happens on a pretty regular basis; you'd think people might now accept that there will be always be incremental improvements in Apple's product line, and just move on with their lives. But no. Whenever there's a slightly easier way to watch useless little videos or download generic, DRM-ridden music you'll never listen to, that's huge, baby. It's big enough for his Steveness to descend to Earth for a brief time to accept the blood sacrifice of his disciples. I just wish they'd bring some tissue or something.

This is going to sound like Andy Rooney, but I don't get it. Best Buy tells me I need a 52-inch plasma screen to really enjoy "The Office," but Apple tells me that's meaningless if I can't view the same episode on a 2-inch screen that also features a smudged reflection of my zombie-like visage staring back. And I really can't enjoy it if it hasn't come to my logoed talisman through the miracle of wi-fi.

I enjoy acquiring useless crap as much as the next guy. But can't we do it with a little dignity?