iPhones- Put Food Inside

Fill the iPhone with chocolate. It’s a great idea. They’re a trillion dollar company, and they waste it on the angular masturbations of executives content to let money roll in for the phantom of ideas. Any company not willing to throw away profitability to force their deranged fantasies into the world has lost every hope of being a decent company.

There’s no point to getting oodles of money if it’s not spent looking at the list of things for which human’s reach has exceeded their grasp, and plunging the whole company budget into correcting what should not be possible to correct. A trillion dollars is enough to disagree with reality when it says you can’t do something. Buy everyone in America a penguin. Bring dodos back into existence so that you can make their feathers into hats. Make it so that Apple Headquarters, at the push of a button, will flip underneath the earth, and on the other side is Dark Apple, a scraggly skyscraper with a huge evil mustache and loaded missiles that can shoot farts anywhere on earth. But I digress, although the nature of these ambitions is desirable and strong and good, the frivolity that makes them beautiful desires a flexibility that is out of touch of most corporate executives. So I will, instead, return to my proposal.

Open up the iPhone, put in a secret compartment, and slip a delicious, decadent truffle in there which leaves all other truffles wanting, let us never forget that Apple means quality when you select from every candy store from Maine to Mexico for that perfect, succulent truffle. That’s what belongs in the iPhone. That is our future.

Whenever somebody completes a milestone- let’s say they download a hundred apps- the iPhone becomes a Euclidean whir of glass and metal, shuddering and opening, changing shape completely until it becomes an impenetrable cube. It can no longer send text messages or play games or protect you in an emergency. Instead, it will open down the center to a decadent lavender pillow, in the center of which will be a beautiful chocolate with the Apple logo stamped on it in white.

It should not be true that every waking year we can presume exactly how Apple will spend the millions of dollars it puts into R&D and concept development and engineering. It will be used to give the iPhone a better camera and fiddle around with the screen a bit. Bring the processor up by one. That’s not enough. Every year, the iPhone needs to do something spectacular beyond belief, or it is wasting its number one spot. The battery is fine, I watch shows on it all day without even thinking about the battery. The camera’s incremental improvements only add up over a swathe of years. No, every time, every year that a new iPhone releases, it needs to reach for the stars.

Now, you might say “there is no space in the iPhone for a chocolate truffle, even by itself, to be inserted in the center in a secret trap door. The average truffle is thicker than the average iPhone.”

I would say, then make the iPhone thicker. Make dreams real. Take something amazing and energeic and commit to it, even if it means trashing the iPhone’s minimalist image. We must go for MAXIMALISM. EXCESS. So now we have an iPhone one inch thick to accommodate space for the truffle.

“But my foolish blogger, you aren’t accounting for the space that will be needed to implement the absurd way that the iPhone would tear itself apart and reform into a cube, which would then open up to reveal a truffle with an incredibly fluffy silk lavender pillow.”

Then make the iPhone THICKER STILL. You don’t give up on an incredible idea, read: food in a phone, phone food, incredibly complex single-use decorative animatronics, just because the reasons that nobody has ever attempted to do them are still looming, unchanged and indifferent to our fleeting creative dreams. Keep making the iPhone bigger until everything works out, and then eventually corral people into using it by doing what Apple does best, which is sneaking up on their aging phones in a back alley and gently strangling them to rest with their own charging cable.

“That sounds excessive. The sleekness of the iPhone, its portability, will cease to exist. That’s everything that the iPhone represents.”

I don’t know why I need to explain this to America, but apparently I do: once something has been accomplished, it becomes worthless. Here’s how it works. The PlayStation 4 has amazing, lifelike graphics. Uncharted 4 probably looks better than any game in existence, on any console or PC. But as soon as the PlayStation 5 releases- before even seeing what the PlayStation 5 has to offer- we know one thing. PS4 games look like shit now. They look like PlayStation 4 games. They are the new standard of garbage, not for what they are, but for what they are not- that is to say, PS5 games. Before we could even see what a PS5 game looks like, we knew that PS4 games automatically looked bad completely regardless of how they actually looked. Because the quality of a PS5 game’s graphics, henceforth, also does not come from how the graphics look. It comes from how and to what extent they look differently from PS4 games.

Now I don’t know what the rest of you think, but I am lead to understand that PS5 games, now that we know them, unilaterally look like shit. The reasoning for this is sound: they look like PS4 games plus a little bit more. As long as the next generation of something still can be flabbily misinterpreted for the previous generation at a distance on a CRT tv in a sports bar, it remains bad. Everything, every single hardware generation, needs to completely redefine and revolutionize itself so deeply and so far that the previous generation is unrecognizable to the current one, because whether or not those advancements are made, the current generation’s goodness is defined by them. That’s why anybody who chooses 60 FPS over ray tracing is a huge tool. We’ve had 60 FPS games before on PlayStation. We haven’t had ray tracing before. There-fucking-fore, 60 FPS is garbage, and must now be cast aside forever because something new exists, which will become worthless next generation when ray tracing must be sacrificed for progress again. From a graphics perspective, as distinguished from an actual visual perspective, EVERYTHING OLD IS ALWAYS WORSE THAN EVERYTHING NEW. And if it’s not, it doesn’t mean old things are better, it means new things are worse. With the diminishing returns of videogame’s graphical advancements, what this means is not that graphics are reaching a visual parity on par with reality and that it is difficult to improve them anymore- no, anything but that, even if it is true. What it actually means is that when graphics are technically improving less and less, they are getting worse exponentially each generation. Soon there will be no good graphics, and all graphics will be bad forever with no hope of improvement. Things are only good if they are MORE AWESOME than their predecessors by a SIGNIFICANT degree, and with that gone, we must learn to face a life of sadness and bitterness knowing that nothing will ever be good ever again. Anything else is cowardice.

I hate to say it, but Microsoft had the right idea when they completely reinvented the Windows interface to great frustration and chagrin every single year, to the extent that every single year it was like a completely different company had made a fresh interface. Everyone hated it, and so did I, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if everyone hates it. You have to do it anyway. It doesn’t matter that it reduces profit. It doesn’t matter that it tanks your company. It doesn’t matter that you have doomed your investors and destroyed your family. All that matters is- you’ve got to do it. You can never stop. America must always be on the edge of its toilet, swallowing the glorious, miserable diarrhea of constant instability. There should never be anything for one second that any of us could hold onto. All we must do is hold to the walls of the spaceship that the singularity has built around us, and try to remember echoes of meadows long past as we brace ourselves to live past the g-forces that may crack our bones. Never slow down. Never heed the cries of the slow. They will die glorious deaths, consumed by the fires of blind, effervescent momentum. Apple, I can’t take this iPhone to work, it is the size of a Christmas ham. Apple, the radiant heat from my iPhone keeps melting the chocolate inside of it, causing catastrophic fires while it is duct-taped to my pants. Apple, this phone is so heavy that after the fires burned away my trousers like a rodent gnawing off its leg, the phone dropped from a bridge onto the skull of an Instagram celebrity who promises to sue the very soul out of my body. Don’t listen to these, Apple. They are the concerns of an earth dweller. Reach for the stars. Reach for the fucking stars so that we forget for a moment that everything in the world must function in its place. As we watch your press conference, we float. The first time Steve Wozniak steps onstage with an oblong screen shape that unfolds into a cube and then opens to reveal chocolate on a pillow of silk lavender, that is what iPhone is about. That is what making things is about. Capturing the impossible, that thrilling moment of absurdity as you realize that the world is not run by businessmen, but MADMEN, and you love every second.