Le Flâneur

I have a mental list of ‘Things That I Find Sinister’ – basically something fairly un-taxing to keep my brain entertained whilst my face is doing something else at work. Frighteningly, two out of the top five cropped up together in a newspaper article yesterday. They are, in chronological order, collarless shirts and The Apple Mac, both of which seem perennially attached to the same man, Steve Jobs (pictured).

The article wasn’t really about Mr Jobs, rather the ultra-thin rectangle of glowing white menace that is the new Mac Air. Just repeat those two words again to yourself and let all other thoughts drift carelessly away. Mac…Air…..Aaaaah. Now, I’m not a technophobe. TV/film streaming has got to be the next big step in our consumer lives, and Apple seem best placed to do it. The iPod’s brilliant, and I’m sick of trudging down to the local overpriced, under stocked video shop down the road. I will be entertained. Now. Fine. It’s just that there’s something about the design of these things – white, soft edges, eerily bereft of clicky buttons and industrial sized fans – that never fails to ignite a tiny little micro-paroxysm of disquiet somewhere deep in the back of my skull. Maybe I’m just jealous. As the only writer of this blog not to own a Mac I feel like I’m being blindsided by these bastards. Even in a completely darkened room they retain a ghost-like presence, two pale lozenges lying prone on my desk mocking my ole’ PC with their sleek lines and impossibly long battery lives. It’s sickening.

The Japanese believe in the capacity of inanimate objects to have a soul. If that’s true, the Mac Air has already sold it to the devil. They are the faithful foot soldiers, Steve Jobs the scheming mastermind. Gliding onto stage at the annual Apple conference yesterday, effortlessly balancing one of his children on his forefinger, he appeared the epitome of tech-cas; somewhere between Grand Moff Tarkin and an evil Gandhi. It’s amazing what a collarless shirt can do.