My Kindle died a toddler. “May he/she/it rest in peace,” blogs the Con Man. “This was not the first fatality in my Kindle family. My original Kindle suffered an even more tragic fate when it hit the bathroom tile and splintered into words gone wild. The warranty from Amazon saved the day but once: my first Kindle was replaced by a spanky new Kindle 2. All was well with the world when my Kindle 2 was among the living. I could download it with magazines, newspapers, and books—and the all-important free samples of books without limitation—throw it in my backpack, and I was good to go. The wireless connectivity left me speechless: any papyrus scroll I wanted seemed to be within reach at any time of day or night. All you could do was read it in plain old black-and-white. No Pharoah ever had it so good. But then my Kindle 2 went kaputski.”