I Have To Tell You How I Feel About Your iPad
Oh, I see you have an iPad. Reading a book on there, huh? Checking your emails? Playing Temple Run? That’s cool. Yeah, I don’t need one of those because I don’t subscribe to the hyperconsumerism pervading every aspect of American culture. I’m psychologically resistant to Apple’s ceaseless barrage of advertising. It’s just so unnecessary, you know, so superfluous to my daily life, and it’s like, hey, the Native Americans didn’t need iPads, so why should I? Ancient Sumerians managed to live perfectly happy lives without WiFi enabled tablets, carving cuneiform into stone tablets, harvesting crops, worshipping Enlil, lord of the ghost-land. Mayans didn’t need the Star Walk app to map the stars, devise their doomsday calendar, or rip the hearts from children offered up for sacrifice. Humanity has become so excessively reliant on technology — I mean, yeah, I have an iPhone obviously, but I could live without it. The iPad, on the other hand, is a symbol of Americans’ addiction to newer better gadgets, an embarrassing indicator of one’s suggestibility to advertising. Not you, though. I’m sure you really need it.
You’re looking away from me. Have I offended you? Just so you know, I’m not saying the iPad isn’t a great thing for you to have; I’m just saying, for me, it’s totally unnecessary and a waste of money. I’m sure you’re an investment banker or a business executive, someone who needs constant in-depth data updates on stocks and profits and — oh, you’re not? You’re a student. Ah. Well, what do I know, right? I’m just some guy sitting next to you at the airport.
The screen’s so bright, phosphorescent even. I can’t understand how you read books on there with that screen scorching your retinas for hours at a time. Seems like the radiation deluge passing through your forehead would eventually seed your temporal lobe with a hundred gooey white tumors. I hope in ten years, you don’t end up at a neuro-oncologist’s office — bald, emaciated, crying into your wife’s shoulder while the doctor looks away uncomfortably. Although based on the amount of light emitted by the screen, seems like a strong possibility. Seems highly likely. I’m no medical professional, though. Just thinking out loud.
I have a Kindle; cheaper, easier on the eyes, more compact. But it’s not for everybody, of course. Like I’m sure you think the iPad is a superior reading tablet even though I read an article in Consumer Reports about how the Kindle is much better for reading than the iPad. Then again, they’re just self-anointed “experts.” I guess they tested each device, compared and contrasted the reading experience, carefully evaluated the pros and cons, and then wrote up an analysis in favor of the Kindle, but that doesn’t preclude the notion that people can still prefer reading on the iPad. It’s whatever. You seem to like it.
I already own a laptop, so an iPad would be redundant. I see you have a laptop in your bag there — not that I’m snooping; just happened to notice it — and maybe you find the iPad fulfills some supplementary function, but it seems like a laptop, although slightly more cumbersome, compensates with greater capabilities. That’s just me, though. That’s just my opinion.
People with iPads always want you to look at their iPads. ‘Hey! Look at me! I have an iPad, and am therefore a more significant human being than you! I’m in the 21st century, and you’re a sad relic of a bygone era! An anachronism! A vestigial individual! You should probably kill yourself because you don’t own an iPad! Kill yourself! Kill yourself! Kill yourself!’ That’s what iPad owners always say. They get up in your face, wave the iPad around, and tell you to kill yourself — not that you’re doing that; you’re a nice person who happens to own an iPad — and it’s like, okay, I get it, you have an iPad. Do you have to bring it out in public just to prove you’re better than me? People should keep their iPads in their bags and never bring them out because it’s obnoxious and condescending — not you, though; you’re fine. But whenever anyone uses an iPad in front of me, I want to snatch it out of their hands and run off with it. I want to steal their iPads. Stab them in their eye sockets and steal their iPads.
Actually, you know what? F-ck you. F-ck you for having an iPad, you piece of sh-t motherf-cker. I should have an iPad, not you. I should be the one watching Squid and the Whale on the airplane, reading a comic book on the train, and playing Angry Birds in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. People should never have things I want but don’t have. People should only have less than me because I’m me, no one else, just me. My consciousness lives in this body, and so I’m the one who matters most. All these meaningless non-me people should only have less than me because I don’t receive sensory input through their bodies, just my body, and it’s un-American that I shouldn’t have everything I want when I want it how I want it. I shouldn’t have to be perpetually slightly less than fulfilled my entire life. If I’m to continue existing on this planet, I need all the tools available to reach perfect contentment, complete satisfaction, or it’s not worth it to continue walking around, looking at things, acting like a person.
And so I need you to give me your iPad. Give it to me now. Don’t you look at the security guard because, I swear to God, I will plunge this car key into your eye socket, twist it around like I’m unclogging a drain, and laugh the whole — oh sh-t. Be cool, okay. My daughter’s back from Cinnabon. This conversation never happened, okay?
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Try something today. Count how many times someone brings up some sort of mental illness in normal conversation. Add that number up and tell me it doesn’t strike you as kind of weird how many normal people walk around with the belief that there is something wrong with them.
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