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Fly the Pad to Fight the Phablets
In our household, Yuletide magic found vent through firelight and silent night. Or Less cryptically, a mysterious musical heirloom that chose to chime its charming melody not a moment before it sensed fairies dancing atop its flame.
No sooner had the season of goodwill taken wing, then my parents became savants of guile and secrecy, as far ahead of my prying eyes, itching fingers and burning inquisitions as an elite level cyber cracker was of a graveyard shift security guard sitting at a dumb terminal scoffing doughnuts, glugging decaf and sweating over how much of his salary he could sacrifice for his daughter’s iPad Pro.
Greg the Appolyte – Of course Sophie should have one, she REALLY needs it. Must be hell cruising through collage passing off flaky colour washes as high art and last summer’s holiday snaps as advanced photography. She doesn’t even know how to use an off camera flash but Cathy thinks she’s Man Ray. Fat chance I’d ever get one. Not even Trevor’s old iPad 2 came my way because she’s so finicky about electronic clutter.
She really thinks that clapped out Acer is all I need. I’ve done five clean installs on that thing and it still drags more than randy Rottweiler. It might be fine for the accounts when using a four year old version of Quicken, but what about my creativity? Suppressed, stifled, sealed away for 15 years. I had a brilliant eye, used to illustrate our form’s weekly magazine. If only that comic strip had come to something. What a fantastic premise.
Two twin brothers, one who could only ever be seen by cameras, the other only by a human’s eye. What constitutes identity or existence? Just how desirable is fame, even over wealth, peace, happiness or a secure future. Is a virtual relationship all you need? Why ever meet if when you do, the one place you don’t look is straight ahead and the one person you don’t talk to is sat in front of you. I was way ahead with that one, now here I am staring at empty rooms for a living. Coffee taste’s great though.
I know, I will buy one. Get what I can for the Acer on Ebay, tell Cathy it was the only way and that I’ll be doing the accounts by hand for a while, smuggle some brownie points there. Boss’s goodwill bonus should comfortably cover the rest, including the keyboard and that pivotal pencil. I’ll wrap it myself, do the niceties, make it irresistible then sneak off with it every night, no one will know. Who said 9 Guess there are advantages to being nocturnal and thank God Cathy talked Soph out of being a boarder. I’d only be borrowing it for these lonely shifts. I know I could put that sublime stylus to sensational use. Stroke it sensuously across that silky screen, a 12.9 inch infinity pool of fathomless opportunity. Always wanted a tablet ever since I saw those Wacoms in action.
Trev’s Cintiq is a pearl but way too pricey. An Intous is out because my Acer would never let it shine, plus I can’t hack my display and input being separate entities, it’s like having to paint on the palette while an invisible brush passes over the canvas. Direct contact between talent and instrument is essential and now I’ve the chance to own something which revolutionises that concept.
Terminal E. Microsoft – Hello Greg.
Greg the Appolyte – A larger display, a less cramped interface, perceptively appointed apps with additional tool-bars and dialogues. A generous and flexible workspace for the hitherto repressed genius. Surface grade sorcery for two thirds the price but a superior screen with almost 3 million extra pixels and its digitiser rehoused in the point of a lead-free pilot.
Terminal E. Microsoft – Greg? Can you hear me?
Greg the Appolyte – Zero lag, organic sensitivity, authentic feedback mimicking the resistance of paper and spontaneous recognition of every technique across a seamless spectrum of artistic disciplines. I could even use both at once, learn to draw and paint all over again, leave a mystery masterpiece for Sophie every morning.
Terminal E. Microsoft – “Might I break your whimsical train of thought for a byte or two.”
Greg the Appolyte – “Uh, who said that?”
Terminal E. Microsoft – Me Greg. The dumb terminal you’re sitting in front of. The one you’ve been staring blankly at for the last five years, the one connected to a host running a decidedly leaky installation of Windows Server 2008. My display may shine a more dimly than on the date of my induction and in case you hadn’t noticed, a hacker is presently poking holes in my firewall. But I have enough good sectors left to know that IPad pro you’re drooling over won’t penetrate the surface of a surface or plumb the depths of OF YOUR CREATIVITY.
Greg the Appolyte – A dumb terminal gives a dumber opinion before being disarmed and destroyed due to its own dumb security, think I’ll take my chances.
Terminal E. Microsoft – Mockery shall never muddy the truth Greg. This isn’t a professional tool, nor one for the accomplished amateur. Its a trend riddled fashion statement for dabblers with a toddler’s attention span who’s ambitions run no further than touching up selfies, self indulgent blogging, fawning over shaky 4k footage shot on their own iPhones, Looping bland stock samples available everywhere from Amazon to Dj-ing for dummies dot com and bouts of dorky doodling in between busting to Dr Dre in a pair of beats by Dr Dre, and all achieved by juggling dozens of half-baked apps within a volatile virtual tool-kit as unique as the next iProdder’s, and which brakes the moment its maker changes the case .
