I sat in my chair, sweating. Sweating profusely, like an obese man (or woman; although, I’d never call her that) watching television. I looked down at my body to double check. No. I was not overweight. But I was sweating. I felt the sting of salt drip into my eyes. I cleared my brow of the self-induced moisture and tried in vain to calm myself. I had destroyed the PlayStation Network. I turned it off.

The night before, I was just like any other gamer. I was playing the game of my choice at that particular moment. There is nothing surprising about that. Some people were salivating over Portal 2 while others were getting ready to unleash all kinds of krazy hell in Mortal Kombat. Personally, I was playing DC Universe Online, a decent massively multiplayer online, role-playing game that mostly feels like a solo game -- unless you do Alerts/Raids.

I had just finished a night of player vs. player (PvP), trying to earn my Tier 1 PvP gear. I successfully earned a chest piece and a pair of wings. I was feeling good about myself. I had just renewed my subscription after a short hiatus and had plans to PvP my way up to some awesome Captain Marvel inspired Tier 2 gear. Shazam!

But, alas, my body waxed weary, and I decided to retire for the evening. I pushed down the “PS” button on my DualShock 3, and for the first time ever -- unaware of what I was doing -- I selected “turn off the system.” It wasn’t until I woke up the next morning that I realized the horror of what I had done.

“PSN Down!” read the headlines. The full force of guilt cascaded over me like a torrent of gales and debris. What had I done? What will I do when they find me? Is it enough to simply say, “I’m sorry,” or would I be sued for damages and placed beside George Hotz as Sony’s number 2 most wanted? I don’t even know how to rap.

Days later, I read something about an “outside intrusion” and fabrications of data theft. I came to the conclusion that Sony’s false claims were only presented due to their embarrassment that somebody out there turned off their network with their own damned technology. Somebody was given such awesome power and used it in ignorance.

It was almost genius. They preferred to be disgraced by one level of incompetence over another. Governments would get involved and dubious lawsuits would be filed, but at least the bewildering truth would remain unheard. Why, after all, would they give some strange man in Canada a global light switch? Furthermore, why wouldn’t they bring his attention to it?

I ignored the red herring of FBI and Homeland Security investigations. Sony knew just as well as I did that if PSN was going to go back online, it was going to come down to me.

While the guilt remained, I was put at ease due to the blame being put on “hacktivists” and various other people who “knew what they were doing.” I suddenly realized that this was a message to me from Sony, which told me that I was in a unique position. I could ask...no, demand whatever I wanted. My mother once told me that “one day, your self-involved, overgrown ego is going to leave you with nothing.” She walked off with a disbelieving snort. Who’s laughing now, mother?