While I admire the insights of many of the people in the world of computing, I get this cold feeling that I speak a different language.

I spend almost as much time figuring out what's wrong with my computer as I do actually using it.

The first time you do something, it's science. The second time, it's engineering. The third time, it's just being a technician. I'm a scientist. Once I do something, I want to do something else.

I sense an insatiable demand for connectivity. Maybe all these people have discovered important uses for the Internet. Perhaps some of them feel hungry for a community that our real neighborhoods don't deliver. At least a few must wonder what the big deal is.

It's easier to apologize afterwards than getting something allowed in the first place.

The Internet is a telephone system that's gotten uppity.

Rather than bringing me closer to others, the time that I spend online isolates me from the most important people in my life, my family, my friends, my neighbourhood, my community.