Kindle My Balls, Willya?

I’m a sucker for new gadgets. I’m an early adopter if there ever was one, barring the really cost prohibitive stuff reserved for the true high rollers. If it’s a game system or some little handheld item I’m usually game. If it’s a car that runs on laughter or a plane that travels at the speed of tears I’m probably priced out of contention.

Enter Kindle.

I am an audiobook fiend. I’m a book fiend. If there was a way to ingest a book by farting or punching beggars, I’d be a fiend of it. It took every bit of self-control I don’t have not to buy Sony’s E-Reader every time I saw it at the local Border’s. Kindle (product page) is’s theoreticlly concept-bending product that allows us to read books digitally in a way that actually doesn’t melt your mindcap as well as a portable little worldbeater with Wikipedia access as well as other wi-fi pleasurables. On the surface it seems lovely. The people who own it seem to agree. The critics don’t hate it either.

But, since the fucker came out in November it’s been out of stock and pretty much harder to find than a talkbacker with a functioning pelvis.

Despite Steve Jobs’s ludicrous argument against this [“people don’t read anymore”], this is a product after my own heart and one I cannot get my paws on without going bonkers on Ebay or pre-paying and waiting an untold amount of time to have one. And this is AMAZON we’re talking about. Their pockets are deeper than Edward James Olmos’ facecraters.

Supply. Demand. One of the things Amazon is known for.

Fucking OOOPS.

- Nick Nunziata likes when literature is manhandled into the modern era.