Farewell IBert, I Hope You Die - Defending the Culture of iPod.

Tony Blair has one, but admits he doesn't know how to use it. George W. Bush warns against psychoanalysis of the contents of his and claims to use it all the time. You can't walk through the Union without seeing half a dozen of them; even the pope has one.

The little white wires are dangling everywhere. The world hasn't seen this kind of obsession with a portable music device since the Walkman debuted over 25 years ago. Accounting for over 70% of all MP3 players in the United States with almost 50 million sold worldwide, it's an unavoidable truth: we have become the iPod generation.

However, as with all new technologies, the iPod has its detractors. Some say it encourages a society without the social, resulting in iPod zombies wandering around in their musical cocoons. These zombies, critics claim, have been willingly anesthetized to everyday life and conditioned to accept the unsatisfactory results.

What these critics fail to realize is that it isn't about a widespread contempt for society or social interaction, though I admit at times this lack of interaction becomes an added benefit. Anyone who tells you they don't appreciate the respite from beggars hesitant to break into their iPod cocoon is lying.

It's about choice. With the MP3 revolution, our generation has grown up with every song ever recorded at our fingertips; the iPod is merely the inevitable result of this cultural evolution. For the first time technology has made choices about music unnecessary, allowing us to carry our entire collection with us wherever we go.

It's about the music. Being pleasantly surprised with a random song we never would have played, and in some cases even forgot was on the iPod. It's about creating a soundtrack to entertain us as we go about our lives, easily changeable with the push of a button.

It's about our consistent societal need for entertainment. Everything we interact with has been simplified to meet this demand; take television news for example. Viewers tune in for pointless news about celebrities sandwiched between sensationalist headlines and minute-long stories that whet our appetite for entertainment without challenging us to think or be informed about the world around us.

And yes, it's about the status. There's no question that the "cult of iPod" is real; there's a reason it's the only MP3 player with white headphones, they stand out. They're trendy. And they fulfill the universal human need to associate with others in the ever-increasing iPod generation.

Three months ago I became a member of this generation. He was used and he wasn't big or pretty, but I loved iBert anyway. He went everywhere with me: plane rides, road trips, walks to campus, hanging out at work, always seeming to know exactly what I wanted to hear on shuffle. Going to work I found myself screaming with Rage Against the Machine; walking home from class he'd serve up a chill mood with a bit of Radiohead. He even helped me quit smoking.

That is, until he got stolen at a house party two weeks ago from the pocket of my fleece. For the record, I don't think I've ever screamed obscenities louder in my life. I never thought I would say this, but right now George Bush and the Pope are more high-tech than I am.

Since that day I've been wandering the streets of Milwaukee jealously eying those white earbuds, wondering what other people are listening to while I chain smoke cigarettes and marvel about how loud the world has suddenly become.

Farewell iBert, I hope you die. Along with your new owner.