In Which I Write A Sentence That Kills Me...

A few metaphors to make sense of my current situation:
I am...
-The movie snob who takes secret delight in Transformers 3
-The union soldier who names his son Robert Lee
-The football jock who misses practice to watch Oprah
-The "go-local" enthusiast who secretly buys Starbucks

In short, I...

I...

I'm considering buying a Kindle.

There. I said it.

You don't know how hard of a confession this is. I have raved against the perils of e-reader technology, that oil-powered bulldozer ravaging the luscious, unspoilt vineyards of my youth. I saw a Kindle sitting sleek and savvy on a desk, and my mind filled with the flames that burned down the library at Alexandria.

But I've had a change of heart. ("Yes," my literary conscience berates, "you've traded your heart for a contraption made of steel, powered by Jane Austen's tears! You crooked son of a-" But I digress.) The first temptation came when I found out that, with the Kindle, most classics are free. In the beginning I steeled myself against this Siren, but later as I was perusing some classics at Borders ("Behold, the saintly colossus, technology's sword still protruding from its parchment skin! Fiends! You would partner with these mother-" My literary conscience again. What a mouth on that thing!)

Anyway, I was at Borders, when I saw some classics I desperately wanted to read but could not afford. And I suddenly realized that my refusal to buy a Kindle had hampered my access to quality literature.

The second surprise came today I was reading a book by a respected Wheaton professor, Dr. Alan Jacobs. Out of nowhere, he suddenly begins lauding the Kindle, which somehow rescued his anemic literary soul from its torpor.

So it seems that the Kindle can in fact be an aid to those of the literary breed. An inexpensive one, at that. ("For sixty-nine dollars, you would betray me, dear Josh?")

But there are further moral dilemmas involved, not least of which was a vow I distinctly remember making six years ago: "I will NEVER buy a Kindle!" If you have read Ecclesiastes, you know the penalty of rash vows. "Let not your mouth lead you into sin, and do not say before the messenger that it was a mistake." How much worse a premeditated vow, as this one was?

Quite the dilemma. I need a little help from commentors (all two of you). If you have any insight to give, please do!