Thinking about keeping our various devices in sync with our Linux systems can be the source of nightmares for many. After all, asking for an open source solution that can keep millions of smart phones, cell phones, email clients, contact databases, and calendars on the same planet, never mind the same page, seems akin to asking for the moon. To which Chez Marcel would like to ask, "Would you like a nice rich Merlot with that moon?"
Excuse me, François, but what are you doing? Are you sending text messages while you should be getting ready for the restaurant to open? You aren't? Well, if you aren't texting, what are you doing hunched over that cell phone? Quoi? You have three cell phones that you are typing into. My apologies, mon ami, but now I really have no idea what you are doing. Ah, I see . . . trying to update your contact list and calendars and you can't think of a way to do that with you Linux system. But three phones? One is your BlackBerry and the other two phones belong to your aunt and your mother. Sigh . . . Tech support for the family on restaurant time, François. What am I going to do with you? Put those phones down and I'll show you a better way to synchronize all those contacts. Quickly! I can see our guests arriving even now.
Why do smart, gifted, intelligent, artistic, creative people choose not to have children.
These people are screwing up what nature has been doing well for countless generations; improving the human race. Now, thanks to birth control and a sad understanding that kids really aren't that great an idea if you want to satisfy every selfish need, evolution has effectively stopped.
On one hand, they can't bear the thought that a two day old sperm and egg combo -- that's called a zygote for you folks out there who think it might be a baby -- might not make it into church 9 months later. No, every sperm is sacred (apologies to Monty Python) and that ova had it coming anyhow.
Their Jesus probably has a sign on his truck's bumper sticker that says, "You can have my gun when you can pry it from my bloody, crucified fingers.