The DHL tracking system has just informed me that a packet containing my eee has arrived safely. After waiting for little more than four weeks, I am sure you can, probably being an eee-enthusiast yourself, imagine my joy at this moment. However, my joy is not as pure as one might expect, for I suddenly find it tainted with dread. So it is, I believe, with almost all scenarios of lengthy anticipation. First the generational techno-lust, then the logistics of buying such a sought-after item, then the economical strain on my bank-account and hereafter the weeks and weeks of mental pursuit and the elevation of the item in question to an almost metaphysical state. Now, on the verge of fulfillment, the chase is almost at an end: All I have to do is race home and tear to tiny pieces the packaging of my desires. One could almost compare this chase-fulfillment scenario to being in love, not that I am, of course, in love with my computer, but even so lusting after a consumer object the way we do it today could, perhaps, be compared to the disappointment or the less-frequent enjoyment of lovers everywhere. Say you are in pursuit of a specific woman or a man, and should be so lucky as to achieve your primal moment of ecstasy and together experience le petite morte, this then is the fulfillment, the second where you either fall in love or wake from dreams of mere desire — or, if you will further allow me this far-fetched metaphor, boot up Xandros Linux with a smile or a frown.

One might argue that techno-lust is an artificial invention of capitalism, which instills in the people of western society the constant desire for the latest mass-produced consumer-products, in order to keep producing and expand the global economy, but one might also argue that love, in a way, is no different. The latter statement might be viewed as pessimistic, but nonetheless we could easily argue that ’love’ is but branded lust mixed with whatever is socially acceptable in the decade discussed. One might argue in turn that love is dependent on another individual, and therefore is completely unrelated to my techno-lust, but that too can almost be deferred if we are merely discussing previously mentioned chase-fulfillment scenario. Besides, while my future experience of my eee will most certainly be an individual one, a one-way-street, one could argue that no other individual could ever know the thoughts of another, and that when in love we are merely pushing primordial sensuous buttons.

Whatever else may and should be said on the subject; we experience, elaborate and elevate these emotions of desire. And so I find myself in a library building on the fifth floor, torn between the irrational, the lustful race home or the rational continuation of my studies.

From writing down my musings on the matter, I have attempted to distance myself from my sudden dread of fulfillment, and had almost succeeded when I labeled desire, and in extension the dread, irrational. The trouble is, what now remains is but the naked fulfillment of my lengthy anticipation. So when I made the error of discussing it in relation to the rational, my studies, I foolishly inserted the element of temptation, and, as Oscar Wilde writes in “Lady Windermere’s Fan”, I can resist anything but temptation.