Say you’ve been eating your toast the same way for years. Every day, two pieces of whole wheat with peanut butter and a banana. And who could blame you? It’s so delicious, and pretty darn healthy.
And then one day the peanut butter becomes almond butter. “It’s better for you,” your partner says. But, you protest, I want peanut butter!
Progress often creeps up on you. The things that were once important — once essential — to your daily life, when gone, just become memories. Your high school sweetheart, the one you knew you’d be with forever. A memory.
“Full metal body is not raised in a corner.”
So what happens when a phone you’ve known for years — forever, it seems — changes? Evolves. Becomes a new thing entirely. It’s not even a phone anymore but a uniform sheet of glass reinforced with a metal frame. You try to find the seams, the facets of the product that were once upheld as glorious illustrations of what the people want, but they’re gone, thrown to the sludgy pool of the past along with external antennas and Symbian.
It’s hard, for a while, to regain your equilibrium. What is life but a feeling of familiar events? There is comfort in that predictability. But the market — the people — have moved on. There’s nothing left for you now, lover of battery cells and late-90’s Brit Rock.
But as Thom Yorke evolved into a swaying, writhing cyborg, so too will you grow comfortable in your new clothes. The phone will stay charged all day, but you will frenetically check it anyway, until one day you forget to check it and it’s still charged and you will fall asleep with it next to your pillow and wake up with its blinking red light calling you, a harpy, and you will realize that you had the best sleep of your life and no this is not a dream.