I used to be all about the Linux. Wanted to run Linux on as many of my devices as possible. I felt smug about having old Dells that corporate entities would discard, and then reviving them with Ubuntu. But you really run up against it once you do things which really require commercial software. Like music. Ahem.
I’m typing this on a new MacBook Air. Because my employer is locking down the computer I have used for work, and my ol’ desktop PC is doing Adobe duty for the Little Wife in the basement. I have been feeling smart getting by with my 2012 Lenovo Thinkpad I bought for $100. Whopping one-hour battery life. Not-terrible keyboard. Shit trackpad. A screen that looked like it had a coating of opaque vaseline. I upgraded that with a $75 Samsung laptop screen that is bright and HD, and I felt so smart to do so.
But the Lenovo is still dying. Like an elderly relative having seizures or passing out at dinner. Not dying with dignity. But more like Mr. Orange in the back of Harvey Keitel’s car. It’s horrible, but it keeps going. And isn’t dead yet. But you’ve known for a while you needed to have The Talk about what to do when the time came.
Covid lockdown has actually improved my life. I hate to admit this. Because it’s destroying economies and wrecking the education of a generation of kids. It’s making people miserable and wrecking relationships. People desperate to work and socialize are left to go insane inside their domiciles. Overdoses, depression, ruination.
And then me. I’m already an introvert. I no longer hump up and down ladders. I can do most of my physical labor hunched over a keyboard and standing at a bench with a light on on the computer parts. I feel guilty, because as others suffer, I am so relieved to not have to go to an office and sit in a crowded space while the culture of “open-desks” makes my working life a catherine wheel of chaos. It’s a reprieve for me. But misery for others.
I’m able to run on a daily basis now. Take a long lunch. Why not? I’m not commuting. I can wear my Adidas sweats all day. Those brand names again. I have only ever been able to use Nike running shoes comfortably. I tried to be clever, trying to get away with cheaper Reebok or New Balance. But I hurt my feet with fascia blisters that made it difficult to walk for more than a year. Biting the bullet and sticking with Nike has made me one of those annoying people able to run full-bore for miles at a time on the canal trail. The dirty secret is that I feel great these days.
So there I am. Buying big-name brands. Brands run by boards which do not have my best interests at heart. I’ll give money to Nike or Apple if their products are the best for my needs. But I do it almost with a buzz in the back of my head screaming “asterisk!” Because I also know that the company’s actions also tell me that they actively hate me.
I’m an inconvenience for them. They don’t, on an investor-return level, really want the atomization of all values. They are neutral in every way. But neutrality nowadays implies adapting to the lowest common denominator of Twitter-approved social activism. Corporations want only consumption, really. Whether it’s adopting a woke stance, or raising a fist, it’s a performance. Consume and go away, is what they say to me, smiling through gritted teeth.
They just want to tame the mobs, keep the happy talk going, encourage everyone to agree to a hostile sameness of thought that ends in Nietzche’s Last Man; a naked man, owning nothing, having no agency, no purpose but to consume.
But the battery life on these Macs is fantastic. Plus they always have good screens and the best trackpads. The keyboard is better than the ones that were famously bad. But it’s still kind of meh.
Daniel Jeyn 