Already a number of people have asked me a flavor of this question: "Do you regret buying a Kindle?" No, I don't regret buying a Kindle, even in light of the fact that I may well buy one of these iPad contraptions as well, despite the new device's limitations. The E Ink displays the Kindle, Nook and other dedicated reading devices use are infinitely better for reading than any other display technology I've used. So, for people who read a lot, such as myself, having the Kindle or Nook is a godsend. I spend enough time as it is staring into a backlit computer display — I'm doing it right now to compose this blog post! When I sit down to read a book, I want something that doesn't give me eyestrain after two hours. Not to mention, the standard Kindle is smaller, lighter, thinner and cheaper than even the cheapest iPad. And it has no-fee wireless book downloads.

Which is not to say that the iPad won't prove a popular electronic book reading device. I suspect less voracious readers — that is people who don't read one or two books a week — would be perfectly fine with the iPad. Certainly, eBooks have been quite popular on existing mobile computing platforms, like the iPhone operating system. But for serious readers, or people who spend enough time as it is staring at backlit displays, the Kindle is still a great product.

Today Apple released its tablet computer, the iPad. While I admittedly have no first-hand experience with the device, I can say that it looks good based on what I have read and seen online. Good enough that I might buy one. That it's much cheaper than I had anticipated also gave my buying calculus a nudge in the "right direction." But beyond the fact that I have succumbed yet again to the Apple reality distortion field, the iPad may well signal the death of the general purpose desktop or notebook computer.

I say this because the general purpose computer -- an iMac, MacBook Pro, Sony Vaio, etc. -- has frustrated and continues to frustrate average people. Even Mac OS X, which I regard as the least complicated desktop operating system, is just too complicated for people without a very high degree of computer literacy. On top of that, because the computers are complicated and will execute just about any code they encounter, they pose a huge security risk. Many people fail to install security and bug patches not because they're risk-seeking, but rather because it's just too complicated. Consequently, many millions of unsuspecting ordinary people unwittingly aid hackers in running denial of service attacks and sending obnoxious spam email.

Compare this experience with that of the iPhone. A three-year-old can figure out how to use an iPhone. Sure, the user interface is well-designed and the touch screen makes certain operations easier. But that's not really why the iPhone is so easy for the average person to use and understand. Rather, unlike a general purpose computer, the iPhone hides the technical details that frustrate people so much. Take installing applications as an example. On the iPhone, one tap in the App Store automatically downloads and installs the new software. There are no DVDs or CDs to keep track of, no installation prompts. It just works. Apple even allows users to re-download applications, just in case they're accidentally deleted.

Or consider that the iPhone does not expose the file system to users. People never forget where they stuck that photo, that music file or that document. Notes are in the Notes application, music and video are in the iPod application, and photos are in the Photos application. It couldn't be easier.

Additionally, because Apple screens and sandboxes applications, users don't have to worry nearly as much about security. Nor does their lack of computer savviness put themselves or others at risk. The iPhone and iPad don't execute anything and everything they encounter. It's just not possible, for instance, for a user to unwittingly install a piece of trojan horse software by accidentally opening an attachment.

Without a doubt, this blend of simplicity, accessibility and security comes at a price. People who demand more than basic computing functions will need more flexibility than the iPad or iPhone provide today. It's hard to imagine, for instance, scientists at CERN analyzing the results of a particle physics experiment on an iPad. But for everyone else, I suspect devices like the iPad will eventually supplant their regular computers. There's just no reason for people who just want basics, like web browsing, email and music playback, to subject themselves to the complexity of a whole general purpose computer.

After rereading my first blog post of 2010 a few times last night, I realized that my retreat into dense, technical academic writing had taken its toll on my ability to write for the blog and other less stuffy mediums. So I'm making a point to post more frequently, and thus practice my less formal writing more often. Anyway, this is one of those quick observational posts.

When I stepped outside this morning, I had on a pair of Wellington boots. As I unconsciously surveyed the footwear choices of my peers, however, I realized that while many of my female cohorts were wearing boots that looked eerily similar to my own, my male counterparts were wearing regular sneakers or tennis shoes. (Aside: What's the deal with Hunter brand Wellington boots? I bought them because that's what they had in the shoe department at my friendly neighborhood Nordstrom store. Do they carry the same social stigma as Uggs?)

I just don't understand what objection men could possibly have to rain boots. I certainly don't enjoy having the bottom two inches of my pants soaked in water when I step inside. It's disgusting and uncomfortable to say the least. And what's more, it's the women's fashion industry that stole the Wellington from the realm of menswear, so it's not as if wearing rain boots is akin to a man wearing a skirt. After all, the rubber rain boot as it exists today owes its creation to the first World War, when the British military asked manufacturers for a waterproof boot for soldiers (i.e., men) in the trenches of Europe. For that matter, given the popularity of brazenly impractical women's shoes from the likes of Christian Louboutin, it seems odd that women would embrace something so utterly practical and utilitarian as the rubber boot with enough zeal to dispel men from wearing them.

Then again, given the state of the bathroom I'm forced to share with a number of other males, perhaps they really don't mind having mud, dirt and water caked onto their clothing.

As I know I've posted before, I generally find the food offerings here at Bates satisfactory, if rarely exemplary. That's not to say there's no room for improvement. This morning, for instance, as I finished the Times crossword, I noticed an insert in my table's napkin holder announcing the upcoming "Adventures in Dining" the fine folks at dining services had scheduled. Adventures in Dining, for the uninitiated, are supposed to be, "The culinary showcase of Bates Dining," to steal a line from the Dining Services website. Usually this means they serve cotton candy, corn dogs or cake with Harry Potter-inspired sprinkles. Or, as will be the case in the next three weeks, some sort of revolting Canadian French fries with cheese and gravy, sausage bombs, and make-your-own Valentine's Day cupcake.

Forgive me if I sound like an elitist food snob, but these are not so much adventures in dining as they are adventures in risk-taking behavior. It hardly surprises me that obesity, heart disease and a host of other diet-related health problems have become more prevalent given that even the wealthy, presumably intelligent students at a top liberal arts college consider French fries with cheese and gravy an adventure in dining, or something that shows off the best of Bates Dining Services at any rate.

Admittedly, the Dining Services people occasionally do something that qualifies in my mind as a true "adventure." A few weeks ago, for instance, they attempted to serve sushi. (Again, forgive my pretense: what they served may have looked like sushi, but it didn't really taste like sushi.) These occurrences are few and far between, however, and even sushi, for the sort of cosmopolitan students that attend liberal arts colleges like Bates, is not really much of an aberration from the beaten path.

So I issue my challenge. How about some real adventures in dining? Why not give lavender-infused sea bass a try, or attempt some kind of savory sorbet? Would cassoulet or real macaroons be such a stretch? And where is that delicious crusty bread I was promised so many times? I've seriously considered joining Eli Zabar's "Bread of the Month" club to satisfy my craving for real, honest-to-goodness bread.

Given last year's focus on sustainable, healthy eating, it's almost laughable that our dining commons serves corn dogs or deep-fried chicken "nuggets" with any frequency. This is an educational institution: paternalism is part of the package. Let's nix these revolting dishes and expose students to the culinarily unexpected.

I've had my Amazon Kindle for about a month now. It's a great device, despite its many shortcomings. The E Ink screen looks great. Unlike the backlit LCD displays on my iPhone or laptop, the E Ink screen doesn't tire my eyes after even hours of continuous use. Of course, the Kindle's display can't display colors, refreshes slowly and doesn't quite match the contrast ratio of a printed page. Nor does Kindle have the same heft and tactility that a real book does. But it's a great device for long-form, linear reading.

Now, however, everyone's attention has turned to Apple's impending announcement on Wednesday, where pundits expect the Cupertino-based company will release some kind of tablet form-factor device. While I'm sure I'll follow the Steve Jobs presentation zealously, I can't imagine what Apple could possibly announce that would compel me to part with another $300 of my money. (Granted, I think I made a similar comment even after Steve Jobs had announced the iPhone in January 2007, six months before I bought one the day after they went on sale.)

On the one hand, I have a laptop, one of those wonderful 15 inch unibody MacBook Pros. It may not be effortless to carry around, but it's certainly portable, and there's little I can't do with it. On the other hand, I have an iPhone, which, while nowhere near as powerful as my laptop, is extremely portable and fulfills 80% of my computing needs. I can check my email, browse the web, listen to my music and even unlock a ZipCar. Together, and supplemented by my Kindle, there's rarely a moment my technology bubble can't support what I need or want to accomplish.

Some have pointed to the Apple tablet as a Kindle competitor, positioning it as a sort of "multimedia surface." Indeed, Amazon quietly announced last week a new 70-30 revenue sharing policy (à la the Apple App Store) for authors peddling their works in the Kindle Store. They also took the wraps of a Kindle SDK to allow developers to write "apps" for the Kindle. But, unless the Apple device has some kind of dual-mode display that can swap between E Ink and a standard LCD, I doubt whether any serious reader would opt for the Apple device over the the Kindle. For me at least, the killer feature of the Kindle is the easy-to-read E Ink display. As for multimedia applications, I've never really been satisfied watching movies or TV shows on my iPhone, and I doubt the new tablet will be much better, even at a rumored seven inches.

But I'm not one to underestimate Steve Jobs and Apple. I'll probably have one of these tablet devices before the year is out.

A few hours ago, Martha Coakley, the Democratic candidate for Ted Kennedy's former Senate seat, made a concession speech to her Republican opponent, Scott Brown. Frankly, I didn't pay much attention to the race, and it would be a lie if I claimed I cared who won the election. That said, the Democrats' loss in Massachusetts may doom the pending healthcare legislation wending its way through Congress. Neither the Senate nor the House version of the bill is perfect, but the effort merits at least a passing endorsement. And it's unfortunate that Ms. Coakley's loss will deprive the Democrats the filibuster-proof majority in the Senate they may well need to pass the healthcare reform package.

But this political predicament underscores a more fundamental problem. It shouldn't be necessary for the Democrats or the Republicans to have a filibuster-proof majority in the first place in order to pass important legislation. In the first place, President Obama came into office with something of a mandate. Hence, it seems to me that the GOP should respect the public's implicit support for a healthcare reform package reflected in Mr. Obama's win. In the second place, it strikes me as absurd to even imagine that each and every Republican Senator has such strong objections to the current healthcare reform push that they cannot possibly vote for it. The situation wreaks of petty politics.

By the same token, it was equally unreasonable for the Democrats to use the filibuster (or threat of a filibuster) to block Bush-era judicial nominees. While I would have appreciated a Kerry win in 2004, or a Gore victory in 2000, the voters elected Mr. Bush and his policies. The Democrats' maneuvering was petty, and came at the expense of the government dealing with more pressing problems.

I would hardly call myself a huge fan of government. But I do believe the government has an important role. It is an institution uniquely placed to help society confront big problems. Yet, at least in my lifetime, it seems the government cannot fulfill this role. It has been corrupted by the sort of petty politics that made the outcome of this one election so unnecessarily important.

It's been a long, long, long time since I've posted something on the blog. And I'm working on a much longer piece about innovation, the financial crisis and creating value in the 21st century. But in the meantime, I figured I would post something a bit more superficial. Namely, the highlights of my life between my previous post oh-so-long ago and the present.

Let's start with my trip to England in late November, where my debate partner and myself were among the many teams that competed at the 2009 Cambridge IV. We didn't do nearly as well as we had hoped, but the experience was invaluable, regardless of our performance. I also used the occasion to spend a few days in London prior to flying back home for Thanksgiving. I managed only to see a tiny slice of the city, but it was marvelous. (I put some photos from the trip up on flickr, and there will be more. Eventually.)

More recently, I had quite an adventure making my way back to Portland for the Christmas holidays. I had the great misfortune to travel on 19 December, the very day an enormous snowstorm shut down most of the major airports on the East Coast. Quite an adventure.

My misfortune began before I even arrived at the Portland, Maine "Jetport," when my cab overheated in the middle of I-95 shortly after noon. Then, after a half hour standing in sub-freezing temperatures, I arrived at the airport only to discover my flight from Portland, Maine to Newark was cancelled thanks to the snowstorm. At that point, a half-wit of an airline representative rebooked me on a flight the next day from Boston to Chicago to Portland.

Of course, when I arrived a few hours later at Boston's Logan airport and spent two hours standing in line to confirm my rebooking, I discovered that the flight booked by the half-wit in Portland was cancelled. Fortunately, a supremely helpful Continental representative in Boston booked me on an emergency flight out of Boston to Houston at 10:30 that night, shortly before weather shut down the Boston airport until the next morning, with a connection in Houston to Portland.

Which left me at Houston's gorgeous George H. W. Bush Intercontinental airport for nearly 12 hours. Among the airport's many peculiarities is a large "George Bush" rotunda, complete with a large-than-life bronze statue of the 41st POTUS.

My flight back to Maine last weekend was far less eventful. Though I did encounter a particularly inept barista at a coffee stand at the Newark airport. So confused was she that the woman in front of me cancelled her order for an iced coffee when the befuddled barista failed to understand the request.

Which brings us to the present. I'm sitting, sniffling, in my dormitory with a cold. My third malady of the 2009-2010 academic year.