Stanley Bing's column in Fortune this week hums a delicate paen of love - and abandonment - to his Blackberry:
"Ah, dangerous love! How many times have I fired off messages, thumbs blazing, while driving down the highway at 70 miles per hour!
Was I mad? Yes. I was insane with the potential of our relationship. It was you and I, and when we were in a zone where we could not communicate, when your bars went down to zero, how often did I lean out the window, drive to high ground, weasel my way to another location to see whether I could bring you to life?"