Why I mostly love, but also fear the "Kickstarter generation."

There's been a few hot-button words in the technology market lately. I'm going to ramble off a few, just for fun, and to act as a starting point for the rest of this entry.

• Tesla
• Quantum Computing
• Nano____s
• Graphene
• Elon Musk
• SpaceX
• Startup

That last one — startup — may be the most genuinely important one in some time. The notion of the startup is essentially the modernized, Apple-age rags-to-riches story. It's the GPU-powered American dream.

Few need convincing when encountering the notion that technology has been a blessing to the little guy — to the ones making things, rather than selling things. Sure, Intel and AMD are raking in billions a year, but there's still people huddled away in offices and often, basements, churning out independent games, films and more.

And there's a venue for this growing realm of entrepreneurs — Kickstarter and IndieGoGo serving as perhaps the most usable, able platforms to finance budding projects. They work on the all-or-nothing business model: you pitch it, you ask for cash, and if you don't make it, it all goes back to donators.

The results have been impressive, to say the least. Check out this trailer for the Kickstarter campaign of Oculus Rift, a virtual-reality interface for video gaming.

The minds behind Oculus asked for a donation limit of 250,000 dollars. They received over 2.5 million dollars. That was 2012. If you had paid attention to the antics of Mark Zuckerburg, you'd know that Oculus was acquired by Facebook in early 2014. For 2 billion dollars.

This is obviously a dream scenario — this is what you'd put on Kickstarter's promotional video if it was a college. Let's take a look at disaster.

John Campbell was a comic artist, who took to Kickstarter when trying to fund his book, "Sad Pictures For Children." To say he succeeded was absolutely true: he made over 600% of his requested funds, pulling in over $50,000 dollars. All went smoothly, for a bit.

Soon, Campbell ran out of money to ship the books, and by some unfortunate series of events, ended up burning many of the donors merchandise in an alley by his home. He video taped this, and promptly dropped off the marketplace, and really the face of the internet.

This is where my concern lies: this is by no means the first incident of this nature. What it seems Kickstarter has welcomed is a free, open, digital platform for funding. The website even requires that all the funds go to the item in question. Though there is still the notion that an individual can opt out midway through, and can, literally, burn his donors money.

So what's the point of this ramble? I suppose it's an admiration of what Kickstarter is — a microcosm of collaboration, or a mass incubator. At the same time, I suppose I am also venting a degree of my own anxieties — what are the implications of people skimping out, ditching products, or duping customers? Can we even moderate this, what is essentially the creative process of inventors?

I don't know, all I know is I want an Oculus Rift.