"We're going to have no paper, no printing plants, no unions. It's going to be great."

- Rupert Murdoch, owner of Fox News, The Wall Street Journal and a bunch of other stuff.

Have I gone over to the enemy?

I hadn't thought of it that way when I opened my Father's Day present and found a Kindle.

I had seen a Kindle. Some people I knew had one. But I hadn't wanted one, asked for one or hinted for one.

My record with new technology is shaky to say the least.

I was one of the last of my group to become computer literate. In the early '80s, some administrator at the college where I taught decided everyone had to learn to use one. So he set up computer classes taught by the college's one computer geek, a guy who could not teach his way out of a paper bag. After geekguy spent an hour or so telling us about loops and languages and programs and strings, some brave soul in the back of the room blurted out, "just tell us how to turn the sumbitch on."

It was a great moment.

A few years later, I learned word processing, and that was fine, but it was not until the turn of the century neared that I discovered the Internet and e-mail.

I still don't know how they do it - or even who "they" are.

Then for Christmas, shortly after Y2K came to naught, my wife gave me a digital camera.

I hadn't wanted one, asked for one or hinted for one.

But I got one. So I spent an hour or so figuring out how to put the little chippie thing in, then pointed and snapped, and after a while of that, I quit.

Years passed, and one day I found the camera stuck back in a drawer, took the chippie out, got the pictures developed and discovered how much my children had grown. I also discovered that a digital camera wasn't that difficult to handle, so now I have three.

But I still don't know how to transfer pictures from chip to computer, but my son can, so why should I?

And, yes, I have a cell phone, but it does not take pictures and I do not text. If you call me and I don't answer, do not leave a message. I don't do voice mail.

And now I have a Kindle.

For the uninformed among you, a Kindle is a slab of technology about 5 inches by 8 inches, maybe a quarter-of-an-inch thick with a little keyboard, a screen and a bunch of buttons that allow you to move whatever appears back and forth and wherever.

And what, pray tell, appears on the screen to be moved?

A book.

Which is why old Rupert Murdoch was full of glee (among other things).

Yessir. With a couple of clicks you can order up a book and out of nowhere (well, out of the place you ordered it, which conveniently is the place that sells Kindles) a book will appear.

As long as you keep the Kindle charged, you can read - which I have been doing.

Now, folks, I am not completely comfortable with this. It is convenient, but it ain't a book.

Books have pages and a cover, and after reading you can put them on the shelf to remind you of what you read. A colleague, also a book person, called my Kindle an "abomination." But he feels the same about co-eds in short skirts. We don't see eye-to-eye on everything.

But Rupert Murdoch likes them.

Kindles.

(I don't know about co-eds.)

Or, at least, Murdoch likes the idea of paperless literature, or, in his case, paperless newspapers, so he can get shed of printing presses and unions.

Now, I've got friends in the forest industry, and paperless literature would not be good for their business. I've got friends who own and operate printing presses. Kindle would not help them, either. As for unions, though I have never belonged to one, I know that without them the Rupert Murdochs of the world would be even more powerful than they are and there would be 12-hour work days and no weekends off - gotta give credit where credit is due.

And what about libraries? And bookstores? A Kindle can hold a zillion volumes. So those fine institutions will disappear.

All of which is why I feel a little guilty every time I turn on my Kindle, for doing so might just be the beginning of the end of so many things I love.

But on the other hand, it is so convenient - which, of course, is how technology got us into all this in the first place.

As Scarlett O'Hara so neatly put it, "I'll think about that tomorrow." Gotta finish this up and e-mail it in.

Paperless.

Harvey H. ("Hardy") Jackson is Eminent Scholar in History at Jacksonville State University and a columnist and editorial writer for The Anniston Star. He grew up in Grove Hill.

E-mail: hjackson@jsu.edu.