It goes like this: “You give me money and I’ll give you ABC.”
Rarely, however, does ABC live up to the hype. Rarely is it even a dim shadow of what you were led to believe. This is the essence of the art of selling: Always Be Cheating.
Even better is when they say: “Give us money and we’ll give you something we can’t be bothered to define.” That’s when they cackle with glee. You don’t even get the false promises and lies.
Take iTunes for example.
There’s a crap for that. Stick a pitchfork me. I’m done. Well done. By Satan himself.
The future’s so blight I gotta dig graves. A pitchfork works well for that, right?
So, technology. Let’s talk about that. It’s here. It has landed on our chests like a motherfucking elephant in a COPD commercial. Let me posit this: How’s that technology working out for you?
In a moment I’m going to share my ideas regarding the three-pronged attack on our very existence by technology. (Get it? Pitchfork?) I used to think there was only one prong but that was before spring break. I’ve since expanded my thinking (as well as something else).
Call it my Grand Unification Theory of Technology (GUTT) if you will. It’s time for a gut check. Spoiler alert: Mine has been spilled open by a pitchfork. Dammit. They let anyone own these things.
It’s time to stick ’em with the prongy end. Make the jump and I’ll get to the point.
What a magnificent experience. Truly technology was a great thing.
Suddenly my workout was interrupted by the outside world utilizing the direct access to my brain I had so thoughtfully provided.
Beep. Beep. Bzzt.
“Siri,” I panted. “What was that?”
Tim Cook struts out on stage. Music plays. He holds up a device which has 99.9% of the same DNA as a device you already own.
You update that device to the las test and greatest operating system which is essentially the same except it provides more ways for money to flee your wallet and join up with the mothership wad of cash at Apple.
That update makes your device no longer worky.
What does Apple call a person who updates their software on the same day a new version is released? An unpaid beta tester.
Now I ride in like the Lone Ranger 2.0 to save the day. Here’s how to survive an iOS update.
First, take a deep breath. The principle of patience must come into play. Life is short but if you update too quickly it’ll be even shorter.
So you wait. At least one day.
For the one reader who has stuck with me until now, what then?
Go to Twitter and figure out the hashtag for the update. For example, this week it was #IOS81. Click on that hashtag. Read up.
What’s the general consensus? What’s the mood? If you see a lot of statements like, “Thanks a lot, Apple, now my iPad is a brick,” waiting might feel just a little easier.
Repeated this procedure when they release the incremental in the next two hours. Did they just throw fuel on the fire?
Avoid zero day released and the first incremental or two. By the point three it just might be time to start taking it seriously. Are batteries lasting longer again? Does wifi actually work?
During the wait time you’ll feel very along. You’ll feel abandoned. There will be no official word from Apple. They won’t be on the forums. They won’t send you an email. They won’t reach out with a tweet. So you’ll sit and wait. I recommend during this period of time that you invest in a bottle of Templeton Prohibition Era Recipe Rye.
After several months of waiting it’ll be congratulations. Your long term strategy has paid off. You’ll be the proud owner of a working device. Just in time to watch the next Tim Cook floor show, too.
You might think that Apple is about to announce the iPhone 6 but they have one more surprise up their sleeve before the big day finally gets here. In a move that will stun the uncivilized world (societies with iPhones) they’ll abandon the practice of naming each iteration of iPhones in boring numerical sequence.
Instead, in clever fashion, they’ll use words that sound similar to the numerical scheme we’re all expecting.
Yes, tomorrow they’ll be introducing the iPhone Sex. Siri gets a major and surprising upgrade in this one. Nuff said, I hope.
This will be followed in later years, of course, by the iPhone Heaven. This will be the one time in the history of iPhones that they won’t actually change anything. They’ll just release a new version that’s exactly the same to satisfy the cravings of early adopters.
The iPhone Mate will feature an enhanced personality matrix so you’ll no longer need to bother with the formality of legitimate marriage within the confines of the real world.
The iPhone Spine will usher in a new era of cyborgality with an interface that will make Google Glass look like quaint child’s play. Remember the good old days when technology remained outside of your body?
And, finally, iPhone Hen will exponentially build upon marital aspects originally introduced in iPhone Mate with hyper-realistic calendar reminders and much, much, much, much more. This will also be the first iPhone to incorporate state-of-the-art hammer-resistant technology.
The future for iPhones looks bright but who’s counting?
Friday morning my wife and I were in Portland, Oregon, on our way to the zoo. (More on that later.) We had ridden MAX, the light rail system, into downtown and had to transfer lines in Pioneer Square (AKA Portland’s Living Room).
While there, we saw the new Apple store. It was early in the morning and it wasn’t opened yet.
The architecture was Lego Meets Glass. It was a rectangular building with a long back wall covered with assorted goodies and three other walls consisting of giant panels of glass. The simple design spoke of transparency, projecting an airy, light, sense of come-see-what-we’ve-got. Sleek, clear, simple and white. And, although I didn’t know it at the time, there’s also a lawn on the roof.
I said to my wife, “I’ll bet there’s at least 57 iPads in there.” (Homage to Steve Martin.)
Inside one solitary worker sat at a desk feverishly clicking, thinking and doing about Apple stuff.
In front, slowly traversing the entire length of the store at a leisurely pace, were two security guards. They looked bored out of their minds. I forgot to look to see if they were armed, but we are talking about an Apple store, right? The place was obviously where riches were stored.
There’s not going to be an Oceans 7.1.1 heist here today. Not on my iWatch!
Suddenly a man approached the front of the building. The security guards sniffed him but apparently he checked out. He arrived at the front door and waved at the man inside. He was special. He measured up. He got to go inside.
I’d heard that Apple stores have something called a Genius Bar but I didn’t see a single bottle of booze. Hell if I was going there for a drink.
Unfortunately we couldn’t wait around all day. We had a train to catch. Before we turned away I saw a security guard hock up a loogie the size of an iPod Nano and launch it on the shiny white steps. The guards leisurely turned and began shuffling towards each other again. A vision of the North Korea border suddenly leapt unbidden to my mind.
I felt tingles. This portended good. Suddenly I knew the trip to the zoo was going to be something special. Things were happening. We walked a block and waited for our ride while looking at a Nike swoosh symbol the size of the Titanic.
There I was, in my office, headphones safely ensconced over my grimy ears, listening to music that made blood trickle down my external auditory meatus, minding my own business. Those are the conditions under which I work the best.
Suddenly… what’s that? Brenda Lee?
There goes my toe a tappin’. And I just lost the ability to properly nest my code. What was I working on again?
Yep. Christmas music in April. What’s wrong with this picture? My wife knew something was up when she heard me in the kitchen. “And we’ll do some caroling.” She just shook her head.
Little did she know it wasn’t my fault. I’m here to tell you about the feature that
time Apple forgot.
It’s an idea so simple and elegant that Apple probably worried it would make them a bit too cool. Apple knows there’s a law of diminishing returns on coolness.
The missing feature I’m talking about, of course, is a “Festive” system that tells Shuffle to omit music flagged as “seasonal” during certain months of the year. If enabled, for example, seasonal music would only play Nov. 15 through Dec. 27th or so. (The actual dates could be adjustable.)
While I hold my breath and wait for Apple to get right on this humble request, who wants to lend me a hand? These halls aren’t going to deck themselves! It’s beginning to sound a lot like Christmas around here. And, baby, it’s cold outside!