Dispatches from Lapland Outhouse #404...
We're getting Christmas stock in at Argos now. Christmas trees have decended upon our warehouse like a forest of fluffy green javelins and speared every member of staff into the racking. We cannot fucking *move* for the damn things, and you don't pick them, they pick *you*, chiefly by falling on your head from a great height and comically lampooning you into the floor, bussiness-end first. It wouldn't be so bad, but...hold on a minute, isn't it only just gone September? What?!? What dark-art-propelled market force has consumed this nations consumer phsyche so that we are all burning with the infernal, dirty desire to buy god-damn point-stick-death-trees some four months before they are *actualy* required!?! I believe that the son of Satan is among us, and that he is working within the upper echolons of B&Q. God help us all.
Furthermore: We discovered a box that contained *other* boxes last week, although these boxes were shinier and seemed to hold within them the promise of deep and dark satisfactions the likes of which only the seedy realms of Silicon Valley could concieve of, for lo, they held within there boxi-ness *I-pods*. And special ones too, at that, for these little beauts can hold up to twenty gig of whatever the *damn hell* you want them to, and that's no mean achievement. Am I alone in thinking that 20gig is just, well, too much? Where will it end? At first, you see, they had enough room to hold onto your favourate *singles* before exhausting themselves. Time moved on, however, and soon you could hold a few albums-worth of shit. Like Brittney Spears, perhaps. To stop there would have been cool. But no, it marches ever onwards! Want the entire back-collection of uncut Pink Floyd in your sweaty, greedy little palm? Shazam! Bite the Apples ass with your wallet and it makes your wish come true! Soon, the space inside an I-pod will be so considerable, it won't be tracks, or albums, or collections that they will contain, but the *band itself*: Flip the play button and out of the I-pods ass will fall the Chile Peppers, sans instruments perhaps, but with a new...smell. Hmmm.
In this respect, I foresee the future of Apple's I-pods following a similar path to that of Pokemon. Consider:
Man: Hmmm, what shall I play today while I addle away the hours with cups of tea and idle masturbation? The decision...is so...*hard*...uuuurgh....Jeff Buckleymon....I CHOOSE YOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!!
::Cut to an animated scene of a spherical, green and white I-pod being thrown with vigerous abandon onto a carpeted floor, whereupon it smashes open and, miraciously, a small, slightly terrifying creature emerges. It looks at its master in a confused yet eager-to-please fashion::
Jeff Buckleymon: Bucklaaaaay?
Man: Quick, Jeff Buckleymon, use your Bitter-Sweet-Acoustic Melody strike and make me feel decidely sexy before tea arrives!!!!
Jeff Buckleymon: Bucklaaaaay!!!
And, for everyone's sanity, I will leave it there.
AT :D
Furthermore: We discovered a box that contained *other* boxes last week, although these boxes were shinier and seemed to hold within them the promise of deep and dark satisfactions the likes of which only the seedy realms of Silicon Valley could concieve of, for lo, they held within there boxi-ness *I-pods*. And special ones too, at that, for these little beauts can hold up to twenty gig of whatever the *damn hell* you want them to, and that's no mean achievement. Am I alone in thinking that 20gig is just, well, too much? Where will it end? At first, you see, they had enough room to hold onto your favourate *singles* before exhausting themselves. Time moved on, however, and soon you could hold a few albums-worth of shit. Like Brittney Spears, perhaps. To stop there would have been cool. But no, it marches ever onwards! Want the entire back-collection of uncut Pink Floyd in your sweaty, greedy little palm? Shazam! Bite the Apples ass with your wallet and it makes your wish come true! Soon, the space inside an I-pod will be so considerable, it won't be tracks, or albums, or collections that they will contain, but the *band itself*: Flip the play button and out of the I-pods ass will fall the Chile Peppers, sans instruments perhaps, but with a new...smell. Hmmm.
In this respect, I foresee the future of Apple's I-pods following a similar path to that of Pokemon. Consider:
Man: Hmmm, what shall I play today while I addle away the hours with cups of tea and idle masturbation? The decision...is so...*hard*...uuuurgh....Jeff Buckleymon....I CHOOSE YOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!!
::Cut to an animated scene of a spherical, green and white I-pod being thrown with vigerous abandon onto a carpeted floor, whereupon it smashes open and, miraciously, a small, slightly terrifying creature emerges. It looks at its master in a confused yet eager-to-please fashion::
Jeff Buckleymon: Bucklaaaaay?
Man: Quick, Jeff Buckleymon, use your Bitter-Sweet-Acoustic Melody strike and make me feel decidely sexy before tea arrives!!!!
Jeff Buckleymon: Bucklaaaaay!!!
And, for everyone's sanity, I will leave it there.
AT :D