NCE UPON A TIME there was a simple man who broadcast his little tech show to thousands of adoring fans from a tiny cottage in an idyllic California town. That man was Leo Laporte. He shared the technology news from atop a bouncy ball that was soon to pop under the groaning weight of his late middle-aged fleshiness.

Little did we know, that that man would one day grow to be a cancer upon the zit of the pimple covering the melanoma that is new media in the 21st century. And nobody had any idea that his once infectious enthusiasm for teaching the liberating nature of tech would soon be adulterated (for lack of a better word) by an unaccomplished alleged gold-digger from loony-toon world.

If only we had had some sort of temporally-based contraption that could have transported us forward on the sea of time to present day, perhaps we could have foreseen the mess of a man that Leo would become. A failed marriage, a troubled family life and a stringy-haired freak of a CEO girlfriend…all horrors from which we would have gladly averted our eyes. I daresay that Leo himself would also choose to turn back the clock and return to that happier pre-Twit Brickhouse time. A time when he didn’t have to mislead his fans that “NatureBox is a healthy alternative,” or “SquareSpace is the best place for your new website,” even though Twit doesn’t even use them for Twit.tv. A time when he wasn’t overburdened with bothersome warehouse leases, pesky health-insurance-grubbing employees or loathsome Skype guests who don’t laugh at his jokes.

Unfortunately, we were unable to see into the future: There were no fortune-telling gypsies to show us the way, no crystal balls into which we could gaze for guidance. We have been left alone to suffer this desperate fate. And so it is that we band together here at #TotalDrama.

Come closer, friend. And let the fire of #truth light the way.