Antediluvian

Feel my troubles people. Having finished "The Last Town", the 3rd installment of a most excellent trilogy, I've moved on. On the advice of what I suspect is an Artificial Intelligence designed specifically to torment me, I'm reading a......get this....hard....cover....book. It's printed with ink on paper (I know, right?). Apparently, this is how information was communicated at the tail end of the Dark Ages. Let me highlight some of the "features".
-To mark my place, I have to either bend the corner of the paper (dog ear) or insert something between the pages. And heaven forbid I should fall asleep and lose my place - needle/haystack.
-I need a light source.
-I have to set it down and pick up my Kindle to check my email.
-The print is small and, unbelievable as this might sound, I cannot adjust the font or the pitch.
-No matter how hard I press on a word, no definition pops up; again....Kindle.
-It won't play music.
-I am right now about to walk up an entire flight of stairs because this "book" has no sync feature to let me read it on my laptop.
-It seems that when books were used, the comma had not yet been invented; believe me, this is a source of DRA-----MA.
-It won't play solitaire with me; I'm told that back in those dark days, solitaire was played on little squares of paper. My God, there's no end to it.
-It won't let me shop for new books and it provides no recommendations based on whether I liked it.
-Highlighting feature? No way baby. It's crayon time.
-If I want to share a passage, it's type type type; ain't no cutting ain't no pasting.
-It weighs like 400 pounds, but chicks dig big forearms.

Now, Mr. Artificial Intelligence, can I call you Art? So, Art, if your objective was to remind me that tech is good and that you're not all out to destroy human life (or out to destroy all human life), OK. I got it. I'll finish my penance and try not to be such a robot h8t3r in the future.

Thank you for not just taking over my truck and driving me off a bridge.

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