iPhone 6 + 6 = 12 O Clock.
admin | September 25th, 2014 - 1:03 pm
Rumors, speculation, anticipation, all those words a tawdry hardware hack will employ before, during and following a showcase of gadgety gorgeousness were all as rife as one another as the ninth of the ninth revealed a ruddy east. Speculation surrounding a single, then a double, then a triple serving of spicey apple sauce.
Rumors of slender wrist-work, of perfectly proportioned palm pacifiers, of fabulous phabletc feats. Anticipation surrounding scintillating pairings of prime cured cores, precious inches of indigo lustre, pints of progressive pixelixir and gallons of giga-ale.
Hark! Let us curtail this by a quaver or two. The imposition of NDA’s in an era of supremely savvy technophiles teeming with a greater propensity to report than Reuters, was a subject addressed at considerable length when last professor Intel and his voracious forgers of mothering monoliths unleashed a torrent of transistor-al tyranny upon an entirely suspecting public.
Though Intel’s dates with destiny are movable banquets. Apple, ever since their induction of an imperfect but dutifully inspired secretary, has relied on Indian summers to cast merciful sunshine over a concise collection of portable spoils, making vital stats and features even easier to predict.
As the peel concealing the genetics of a particular 6th generation was peevishly picked away, most quotas and measurements of any note were prophecised, publicised, subjected to intense scrutiny by the sardonic and the sanguine and, by a month hitherto a ripe and juicy release, as worthy of breaking news as Graham Bell’s Facebook Feed.
Five paragraphs into an article written almost a week later still no mention of exactly what has fallen foul of Gigadenza’s abundantly arduous alliterative autonomy ….
Well, this won’t be a review, it can’t be a “heads up”, it isn’t an opinion of any significance nor should it attempt to be a detailed deconstruction of technical distinction. All that precursory nonsense harbours an eternal desire to be different and a preference to engage one lost soul for many moments over many for all too few…before things like this start to happen.
Last week in 1665, two iPhones wandered through a peach orchard, what they were doing there is a mystery neither I nor anybody shall ever have a means of deciphering. They were dressed in white plastic and silver aluminium, having left their dark attire up at the house to which the orchard belonged.
On that fine day, the Sun’s congenital compulsions gave rise to euphoric solar soliloquies replete with ultra violet virtuosity and of course, white and silver are known for their reflective properties under circumstances of high temperature.
The fact one iPhone appeared taller and broader in stature than the other was a simple optical illusion, it was the other that was shorter and slighter.
“Excuse me?” iPhone the broad suddenly buzzed. “I Wonder if it would be feasible to know the time?”
“I assume your asking me,” replied iPhone the slight.
“Unless one of these peaches is willing to fall and split in twain its golden silence….yes,” said iPhone the broad.
“But my ample brother,” said iPhone the slight, his tone teeming with puzzled marimbas. “Is not the information you covet right there, as bright as the light emanating from that M class star, on the 5.5 inch, 1920×1080 retina HD window to your wondrous inner sanctum?”.
“Perhaps so my slim sibling,” responded the Broad with a sigh. “But how in the name of Newton am I to regard one resplendent inch of 401 pixels when all 8 mega pixels of my ocular omnipotence reside on my rear and the absence of a mirror precludes a selfie?”.
“How about,” began iPhone the slight. “You swirl swiftly on the spot and invoke our 43 mega pixel panoramic party piece, if you’re fast enough, perhaps you’ll catch site of yourself”.
“Ingenious suggestion,” praised the Broad. “Save for one thing…”
“I know,” the slight responded in a ring of resignation. “You’d need to rotate thousands of times faster than light itself to have the tiniest chance of success.”
“No no no, that’s the easy part”, chuckled Broad. “You’re quite forgetting what makes it impossible, 43 mega pixels is all well and good, but 240 degrees of panorama? Why, that’s 120 shy…we need 360 to see ALL around us.”
“Never thought of that,” mumbled a melancholy slight.
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