Excuse me sir, but you have a robot on your face.

I have always been a fan of All Things New and Wonderful. I am fascinated and excited whenever I catch news of some new technology that could make my life that much more like the year 2000 as seen from 1965. I would much rather own a three-wheeled car powered by the sun than have a Humvee. And its not so much about the environment, though that's a plus. It's about having a futurecar. If there was a Hummer Hovercraft Edition, it would move to the top of my "unnecessary things I want" list, despite its 2.5 MPG.

Until recently, the idea of a wireless bluetooth Ear Thing for my cell phone was appealing. It seemed like it would be cool to be able to talk on the phone and still have both hands free to type every word spoken for later reference.

But have you seen those Ear Things? I mean, actually on a person? It's very sad. Bulky hunks of plastic with a constantly flashing blue light. It looks like nothing less than a child's Borg costume from Halloween 1998. And I see self-conscious software developers and crisp sales executives marching about, probably trying to project significance, wearing these abominations. When I see these people parading their shame I get that wincing feeling you experience when watching an actor really blow it in a play. You know, embarrassed for them.

It is odd that I do feel that way, though. I normally derive a certain amount of glee from the ridiculousness of Man. I can only assume it's because I identify with those poor clowns-in-ignorance. Because I'm just one pocket protector away from wearing such an Ear Beetle myself. That, as absurd as I think it is when Wearers tell me they keep their Ear Thing on all the time "because it's just so comfortable," a part of me thinks Really? Why would he lie about comfort? Maybe it is cool, after all. I mean, I'm a Star Trek fan. What's so wrong with looking like the Borg?