I stole the title from Tracy Kidder's The Soul of a New Machine, but it fits my feelings for this piece by David Mamet. I suppose I should be more gracious and thankful that he's seen the light, but I struggle with this a bit since, until last week, he's obviously thought I was a moron from before I reached the age of maturity for thinking these very same things things.
To be honest though, there's a PhD thesis in responding to the lunatic comment thread his little piece generated.