I found this dude’s Blackberry in a cab yesterday. I called his home number, got his wife, who insisted, “He needs it right now!” The dude called and asked me brusquely, “How can I get this back?!” A series of calls later, I was only talking to the assistant, who was the only one who said thank you. The dude had no music on his Blackberry, not a single song, unsurprisingly.

You have to wonder, where does this sense of entitlement come from? Is it the same sense of entitlement that says it's o.k. to invade and destroy countries, torture innocent people, spy on your adversaries or imagines ones? Well, kind of, yeah. Masters of the Universe, as Tom Wolfe called them two decades ago. They're destroying the world, or at least all the fun in it. I wonder what they will do when the food rationing comes (which it already has, to New York, in the form of rice); when things get really bad, as my local paranoiacs assure me they will. "Apocalypse Summer," they're calling it here in the East Vill. Can you imagine what it will be like dealing with yuppies then?