Dear Apple, I am your filthy plaything
|Stephanie Larson @ F-Stop Magazine|
Jessica Plhak considers her smart phone sickness @ Zouch.
About a year ago, I sold my soul to Apple and bought an iPhone. I’m not sure why exactly, but I suspect that Steve Jobs had been bombarding the public with subliminal messaging in Apple’s seemingly innocuous advertising campaigns. Hidden in those harmless ads with cool Mac representative Justin Long and his geeky PC companion were Satan’s marketing gurus, chanting “Buy! Buy! Buy!”. This is my most reasonable explanation for the uncontrollable lust I felt for a piece of technology that is only slightly smaller than a pocket map book.I remember the day that I found out that Apple was releasing the iPhone in Canada. After never wanting a smart phone before, I could barely think about eating, sleeping, and my day-to-day commitments. I wanted that phone more than I wanted to breathe. It was like the falling in love with the perfect man from a magazine advertisement who claimed to be able to organize my life, entertain me, and evolve with me as I customized him with endless clever applications. With one touch, he would tell me what song was playing on the radio. With another, he would tell me what the best route to the office was. With another stroke he would feed me my email. He would serenade me with my favourite music and recommend the best restaurants. All this while presenting himself in a sleek and sexy package that could fit in my pocket.read More