I am not rewriting metaphysical treatises on existentialism or empathizing with Joycean characters neglected by Dublin, Ireland. But time parted for me and I held the universe in my palm for an endless segment of reality. This took place as the New Year began. Slumped back into this hairy, soggy desk chair as usual, typing into an article my half-formed thoughts, I suddenly understood a simple, yet profound truth: I am using a computer. I admit that I am no genius. I feel comfortable...