About two years ago, I switched to apple products. Everyone kept raving about how awesome they were and to be fair, the iPhone 5C had just emerged on the scene and boasted a great pink color that my inner fairy just couldn’t resist. Even though my blackberry had yet to let me down, everyone seemed so thrilled with their apples so I figured maybe this Steve handJobs (may he rest in peace) was on to something and I should make the leap.
Buying the product was just the first sticky step into the intricate web of an apple reality. I had to make an account, create a new email address, promise my first born, and essentially sign away my rights as a free thinking humanoid. Once I became a registered apple user and I joined the privileged community of Mac heads, I could begin to enjoy the wondrous benefits of the apple world.
Sure the camera was a trillion times better than the BB, and yes the interface was very intuitive and idiot-friendly. But switching to a touch screen was infuriating at first, and the move was compounded by an intrusive autocorrect feature that persistently changed my “Habibi”s to “Habit”s, thus rendering many a drunken text even more confusing. I mean, when you Whatsapp someone “I need a humping hand, I’m getting dick” instead of “I need a helping hand, I’m getting sick”, it’s bound to create a social faux pas, especially when sent to your boss.
But apart from the gucking texting confusions, one of the biggest pitfalls I faced when I joined iWorld ™ was the incessant call to update. It seemed there was a new version every 4 hours, and if you ignored an update long enough, Apple would send an agent to your house to choke you in your sleep until you acquiesced. Or, your apps would stop working in silent protest. Worse than apps that stopped working were things that went wrong with updates. I distinctly recall a few updates that did significantly more harm than good. I’m talking about important, critical, life-sustaining things that disappeared from my phone. Specifically, I’m speaking about my playlist, my music, my escape from the asinine sounds that people call conversations. Can you imagine finding yourself on a flight with a horrific selection of movies, smugly shoving your earphones into your holes, only to find that your precious escape is nowhere to be found?! The shock is on par with going to the dentist to have a cavity filled and walking out with one less kidney. Painful and confusing is what I’m trying to say!
Why so many call to updates if they were full of creepy bugs? If I wanted to make my life more infuriating, I would join a gym. We are setting a dangerous precedent by being herded mindlessly into these constraints. And with the way products are developing, pretty soon I’m sure these modes of communication are going to be implanted directly into us. The iWatch is already on our person 24/7. What’s next, the iSuppository; a magical little bullet that lets you do everything from the comfort of your colon? And when that happens, what if we become forced to keep updating vital things, like organs and expressions? Imagine not being able to pee or show surprise, all because you haven’t updated.
Nevertheless, pitfalls or not, I don’t think I could possibly bare to part with my iLife ™ now that the entanglement is complete. I know there are options out there, I see people around me using Samsungs and androids and laughing hysterically at me when I tell them how much I pay for this app or that song. Yet I can’t conceivably fathom making the leap away from Apple anytime soon. It’s just too comfortable here, and until the cloud over me bursts, I will remain a faithful customer until they release that iSuppository.