Thursday, 6 October 2011
As I sit here at the arse crack of dawn coughing my lungs up with this bastard chest cold, I'm taking a moment to remember Stevie Jobs.
There you go, Job done.
Never met the fella, although he sounded like a clever man who produced some useful stuff, but never had much in the way of vocabulary skills- naming his firm after a fruit and his first big product after a rain jacket. Equally, if you'd have said 'iPhone' to anyone 10 years ago they have talked to you like you had severe learning difficulties and replied 'MY phone, you say it's MY phone- you cretinous sap'.
He could, however, have stuck around a little longer to produce an iPhone 5. Perhaps he knew that just adding a letter to the name and bringing it out in green or blue would make everyone shit themselves with glee enough to camp out like tramps down Regent Street so they could lay their fat geeky hands on a new handset. Very shrewd? Very lazy. Or, was this due to foul play?
I don't mean a handball in the penalty area, no, I mean perhaps the workings of the evil Billy G. Was the skinny, spectacle wearing, former king geek growing tired of Apple's success? Did he find himself staying up to the early hours, bitterly searching online for Halo 3 players called 'SJobsy' so he could use his cheats and act out his revenge? All possibilities. My favourite and probably most likely sequence of events is that Billy G had him assassinated.
There's only one entity in the Microsoft arsenal capable of completing such a deadly task. Made of steel, yet astonishingly flexible. Possessing the stealth of the most adept ninja, able to pounce from the shadows just by opening a window.
The cunning, Microsoft Office Paperclip.
This absolutely sick fuck has lurked on every one of my documents and spreadsheets since I was at primary school. Leering at me arrogantly with a smile as sincere as a traffic warden's, I'm constantly stalked by his desire to seduce me into following his dubious 'advice' and nauseating instructions. This kind of cold hearted bastard would be perfect for the Job.
With the specific mission of preventing the release of an even better phone than the iPhone 4, Paperclip would've had to have acted swiftly and decisively. Whilst poor Jobs sat innocently completing Angry Birds Rio for the eleventh time, Paperclip would leap out of the darkness and stab frantically with his sharp ends, terminating the Apple CEO and avenging the death of every Windows phone in the land.
'I've DONE it master!' Paperclip would loudly hiss.
'Well done my child' Gates replies, 'now make haste with your escape, we've a spreadsheet to create!'
And that would be the end of Steve Jobs. In tribute to the late Mr Jobs, I've written this entirely on my iPhone and every penny raised from this post will go towards buying me the new 4S version.