"Hate" is a powerful word, and one that I would never toss around lightly, not even to such potentially worthy targets as the Tokyo Giants, Fox News and eggplant (blech!). But having said that, let me further say this:
I hate cell phones.
I hate the way they swallow so many seconds of their user's lives, whether those users camp on trains, stand on escalators or weave (not walk) down city streets. I hate the way users thumb frenetically over the buttons. I hate the various hums, beeps, rings and chime tones. I hate the way the phones yank you to speak no matter where you are, like a dog being claimed by its leash. I hate the way the ever-present phones with their gaudy straps have become but another blemish in an urban landscape already zit-creamed by endless billboards and neon. I hate the way people gawk at me when I say I don't have one.