To say the least, the March 7th announcement was a dispositive settlement of all those knavish rumors that embroidered the front covers of some uninformed tabloids. But the metaphysics have taken their course back to the tilt-a-whirl, working sound, in cahoots with somewhat of a realistic measure. Indeed, Apple pulled out the big gun like Barney Fife from the The Andy Griffith Show, and dismissed its previous retort back at a CNET reporter, to which Apple claimed that camera on a tablet is like inscribing a lilliputian perforation in a well-preserved Rosetta Stone. But then again, the heifer is back to the ridge, and hypocrisies reprise themselves like Nixon’s little taradiddles.
I’m not gonna lie, but as the provoking title of this ‘treatise,’ more felicitously a rant, implies, the iPad 2 resembles a broken verse of sorts. I’d gladly lay up a warm-handed accolade to Mr. Jobs, had it been packed with more features, like a corpulent child on a hammock on a spree of gobbling a steamer-trunk size Sasquatch pizza. At the original iPad’s inquest, we see its ‘counterpart’ rehash the advantages, which run the gamut from aluminum chassis to lightweight enclosure, take a very leery effort in trying to retain that fleeting battery life, and rub up on the speed department, in which Apple claims the graphics performance improved by nine times, and the overall speed clock by two. Having said that, I’m a stringent gendarme. I have a slight inkling that something is missing, though I could be jumping on the bandwagon here. However, with my stevedore-likened mouth, I would like to ask why the iOS 5.0 announcement was temporized. At this point, I do reckon it’s an irreducible fact that 5.0 would be strikingly similar to the current firmware, for it has long been established an insidious fact that Apple would not change its contraptions and softwares on the score of simplicity. Then again, from a circumstantial standpoint, austerity has shied away from my palate.
When the Big A’ gives you that come-hither look, beware of its hoodwink. When you the buyer is sauntering around the hinterland, flummoxed by how bland the Dixie-horticulture is, Steve Jobs along with Apple Execs would be sitting on the lap of luxury at Cupertino, afield from you, glazing over the fact how gullible you are. They feel the pulse of the public, like they were voting for Alvin Greene on a rigged voting machine. But if you have a liability to build a credence that the new iPad is the next Holy Grail, fine. Have at it, but I do not concur. I can reel off a long parchment of a modern-day Pharisees, but that drib-and-drab approach would be rendered obsolete once you, perched on a comfy mattress, gamboling around with your expensive gimmick, come to a conclusion that you’d be better off shopping at a haberdashery. And once more, you’d inhale the redolent whiff of insularity, like that moment when you decided to supplant your iPhone 3G with iPhone 3GS, just because the brand “Apple” has become your new pas de deux, and Steve Jobs is your head capos, covertly an Attila-like existence that’s trying to hack your cynical minds away.
Michael Andrew 