This is adapted from Plugged In, TNW’s bi-weekly newsletter on gear and gadgets. Subscribe to it (and our other great newsletters) here.
That’s right, it’s the twelfth edition of Plugged In — which is sort of relevant, because this week we’re getting festive.
Nah, fuck all that Father Christmas noise, this is about the iPhone 12 event. That’s right, we’re going to spend all these words talking about a dumb phone launch. Grab yourself a cuppa and get strapped in.
I always thought some of my opinions were set in stone, that there were unwavering pillars of my personality. For example, I believe Gregg’s — the world’s greatest bakery — should be nationalized. I think that you can’t be trusted if you love Muse. And I’m convinced the world would be a better place without technology companies holding huge events to launch what amounts to dull products.
But — once every twelve months — the iPhone event rolls round shakes me to my very core.
Up to 15 minutes before, I’m the same grumbling and irritable person I always am. “I already know what Apple’s gonna announce,” I howl at my reflection, “why has the lord cursed me by forcing me to sitting through another one of these fucking keynotes?!?!”
Then, as soon as the countdown flips to 14m59s, a change comes. Something is different. There’s a shift. I’m… excited? Nervous? Enthusiastic?
Yes friends, I, a grown-ass adult, get gleeful about a global corporation with questionable morality trying to sell me some shit I don’t need. And you know what? In this isolated incidence, I’m cool with it.
Much to my shame and pleasure, I spent the entire iPhone 12 event rapt, impressed, and gently amused. I began my viewing neither wanting or needing a new iPhone, I finished it confident my bank account was about to get battered.
This isn’t to say I simply suckled up all the marketing milk the company nipple-sprayed all over my screen. Of course fucking not. My job is to be critical.
But this was done afterwards.
For the hour or so of the iPhone 12 event, I lost myself in Apple’s universe. I had fun. The familiar sight of Mr. Tim Apple unveiling the “best iPhone ever” felt like a balm, a sense of normalcy that was comforting in these troubled times.
It was like Christmas: confusing, consumerist, but, ultimately, comfortable. Would I want to feel like this is all the time? God no. But was it lovely to have a short hour of iPhone-mas? Yeah, it was.
So, Santa, are you reading this you dirty home invader? I bet you are. Just a reminder: keep your fat ass out of my chimney. This December, I’m leaving an unreasonably large pile of cash under the tree for Tim Cook instead.
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Published October 19, 2020 — 08:16 UTC