Kindle Schmindle: a Curmudgeon Speaks.

TV is telling me just how spankingly different a Kindle is from an ordinary book. You can store up to three-and-a-half thousand books on it, which is good because previously when I've wanted to go on holiday with thousands of books I've had to go camping in the British Library. (We had a fortnight in 940.2, Renaissance Italy. It was lovely.) But Kindle doesn't stop there.

You can keep it in a drawer!


This is good. It means next time you go round someone's house instead of looking at their bookshelves (to judge them, their moral character and intellectual strength) you can now legitimately nip upstairs and riffle through their pants drawer to see what's on their Kindle. Same thing.

Your dog can lick it!


You can read stuff off it while you're chillaxing in a hammock and Converse.


Yeah, you wear Converse and say chillax, because this is your top end:

You live in the perpetual sunshine of those indeterminately Americo-European cities on mobile phone adverts and you laugh all day on your touchscreen phone and use the word 'apps' without wanting to slap yourself in the face. That phone's not even on. Look. It's just shiny shiny shiny.

Your dog can lick it!


You can secretly leer at women!


And the latest one's got a camera in it, so while you're masquerading as a drawly bed-headed Converse-wearing fixie-riding hipster, you can grab a photo of her arse and smuggle it home.

You can give it as a present - although, because it costs one hundred and eleven quid, you can't now afford wrapping paper.


In perhaps the most radical departure from books, you can put it in a pocket! Wow!


Oh.



Hundred and eleven quid. But your dog can still lick it! It's all over the screen, look! Dog slobber!


I hope you're reading dog training book, because your dog is out of control. And you, you're happy to have dog drool on your stuff. Which you then give to your kids.



And then eat off.


Kindle: If You're Rich but Unhygienic.