So everyone's up in arms about this latest iPad commercial, which features a grand smooshing of stuff for reasons. I can see the intentions behind it: Look, all your favourite things combined into one slick (and thin) device! Amazing! Technology is the best! You should buy it!
It seems to be interpreted by the internet as: Screw all that boring physical creative stuff, why even bother?
I think the latter is a bit of a stretch. If I had to guess, it's more a ploy at fake outrage to stimulate controversy-driven engagement. It doesn't seem like a reaction proportional to a decent ad. A lot of people are lacking in media literacy if they honestly believe Apple is against physical and traditional creative endeavors. They have a long history of positioning themselves as the essential digital extension of those who make art. Empowerment, even. Have you ever even set foot in an art school? Because those folks WORSHIP at the Tree of The Clean White Fruit.
No, I refuse to believe that Apple's underlying message is they want to destroy instruments of creation. I also refuse to believe that anyone with half a brain really believes that's what Apple is insinuating. We cannot be so stupid. Sure, maybe Apple was a bit misguided in their concept, but it isn't a grand statement against the arts.
And yet.
It really struck a chord, hasn't it? This outrage, however misguided or artificial as it started, spread so quickly for a reason. There's something there. Come with me for a moment:
Let's say Tim Cook went out into a cemetery of Silicon Valley and dug up the monkey paw-shaped hand of Steve Jobs. Make a wish, it beaconed. In the cool night breeze, Tim could already feel the warm embrace of an ethereal black turtle neck.
"I wish to... QUADRUPLE iPad sales!" he spits out between symmetrical teeth of perfect lustre. The clouds part and his silver hair catches the moonlight. A smear of horse blood lingers on his cheek. The decayed finger curls in on itself as if possessed by amateur claymation, and Cook's teeth open wider. He pauses with flared nostrils. Nothing happens. Nothing continues to happen. He goes home and feeds the single plastic plant. He goes to bed.
In the morning, he's approached by a wide-eyed executive. "Mr. Cook, you need to come the Warehouse 7A. It's amazing!!" They don perfect white helmets and rush over on their secret Segway-like prototypes, probably called the iMove or something stupid. Upon entering the warehouse, Tim's eyes grow wide at the implication: neatly stacked before him are every single musical instrument, paint brush, fountain pen, radio, sketchbook, and stick of charcoal in the entire world. Just sitting there. They're weighed down by the impenetrable shadow of a large, cold, and inevitable hydraulic press. A dispassionate red button waits on the wall.
Tim reaches for the switch while his select staff gawk in horror. He laughs as the giant plate begins it's slow decent. The world's last instruments play a final terrible concert, and art supplies explode in a seizure of bleeding colour. The staff follow the cue of their leader and begin to laugh in unison. Perhaps they will get an extra 5% on their performance bonuses this year.
---
My point is this: if Apple magically had all those creative tools in the world at their disposal and knew destroying them would guarantee an astronomical rise in sales, I think we all know what they'd do. Four to six quarters of parabolic growth? A guitar and journal wouldn't stand a chance.
They'd never admit to it, naturally. But if they could do it, they would. Thank god they can't.
Are they seriously setting out to undermine the tools of artistic expression? Of course not, it was just an ad. But they would seize that darker opportunity in a weathered, leathered heartbeat if it ever came their way. All hail the AAPL, our new overlord and singular arbiter of creativity.
I think that underlying desire is a good chunk of what we're reacting to. And engagement for clicks, of course. Lots of that.
-Cril
How could you know, how could you know?
That those were my eyes
Peepin' through the floor, it's like they know
It's like they know I'm looking from the outside
And creeping to the door, it's like they know
And now they coming, yeah, now they coming
Out from the shadows
To take me to the club because they know
That I shut this down, 'cause they been watching all my windows
They gathered up the wall and listening
You understand, they got a plan for us
I bet you didn't know that I was dangerous
It must be fate, I found a place for us
I bet you didn't know someone could love you this much
Big Data - Dangerous
