No, not because I'm secretly gay and in love with him. You don't have to be gay to be in love with someone like Stephen Fry.
Because he is also, a man after my own heart, a man most appropriately after the heart of his dear departed and sorely missed friend Douglas N. Adams, a gadget freak. He's a techno nut. A mad lover of all things that go beep and, particularly, have an Apple logo on them.
And he shares my belief in Smart Phones, although a man who can say
"My motto is: I have never met a smart phone I haven't bought."
Is much closer than I am likely to get to satisfying his dark cravings. BASTARD.
Anyway, the reason he broke my heart is that he has dashed my lingering admiration for Sony Ericsson and my from-a-distance desire for the P1. Because a man who has owned one of every smart phone ever made calls it "What a crushing, lowering, fury-inducing disappointment." And worse: "My disappointment in the P1i turned to anger as the real structural flaws emerged." "The awful laggardly horrors..." "The miserable nonsense..."
I'm going to go away and cry now. I can only hope that by the time I can afford a new phone, Palm have done something exciting again. Actually, the chances of that happening really will make me go away and cry now.