A man named Joshua Kors wrote an article in the Huffington Post. It’s called “Why I’m Returning My iMac.” It turns out that the reason is that he’s a slobbering moron. Let’s journey through his reasoning.
Turns out there’s a video camera embedded in the screen, and before I could boot her up for the very first time, she wanted to take my picture. For “identity purposes,” she said. I stumbled to the bathroom, brushed my hair (and my teeth), exchanged my raggedy Raiders t-shirt for a professionally ironed button-up and returned to my desk, smirking at the turn of events. My old PC didn’t care if I called the Pentagon in my bathrobe. My iMac apparently had registered with Match.com.
You’re dressing up to impress your built in webcam? Sort of missing the point here. That picture is only used for a teeny tiny little thumbnail that you click on to log in. Then you can change it immediately. It’s never sent to anyone ever. You’re being a drama queen.
I had an article to write, but the only word processor I could find on my iMac was TextEdit, essentially a stripped-down version of Notepad. The program had an excellent array of font options, like “Bigger” and “Smaller.”
No see that’s not true either. It is true that the only word processor built in on an iMac is TextEdit, although if you’re a fucking writer, maybe it should have occurred to you to add the iWork suite for a measly $50 extra. But Notepad is a text editor. Only. You can type and you can delete. That’s it. TextEdit is a fully featured word processor. You can make text bigger and smaller (with actual numbers if you want), but you can also change the color, kern, ligature, and baseline. And as for fonts, there are 218 to choose from and obviously you can download thousands more if that won’t satisfy you. It has tables. It has bulleted lists. It has adjustable margins. If you think it’s underpowered, it’s because you didn’t even try.
I booted up my bank account before realizing the Mac keyboard had no number pad and was heartsick to learn that the thesaurus WordWeb, every author’s best friend, didn’t work on Mac’s OS. Neither did Ipswitch FTP, my file-uploader.
Ok, the Mac has a dictionary and thesaurus BUILT IN. It even has a built-in Wikipedia browser, so you can see all the results in one place. And Ipswitch FTP? Really? For Mac, Cyberduck is free. Transmit is $34. Ipswitch FTP is $90. You made literally no effort to solve that problem before bitching about it. And what kind of banking do you need to do? Are you a teller? Do you sign in with your actual bank account number (which would be ridiculous)? Are you aware that websites are not “booted up”? Come on now.
I knew that, unlike a PC, I wouldn’t be able to connect one computer to another and transfer over my documents.
That’s just not true. The whole rest of that paragraph is him whining about how hard it is to work around that, but he didn’t have to in the first place so I’ll skip it.
As I delved into an ocean of Mac dork chat boards, hoping to learn how to migrate over my Thunderbird mail and address book, I started wondering why I had converted in the first place. Even moving over my iTunes playlist, I soon learned, was going to take intricate coding tweaks.
MY GOD, YOU’RE LIKE A FUCKING CAVE PERSON. First of all, Thunderbird is a Gmail client. That means that all of that shit (mail and address book) is on the internet. On your Gmail account. If you download Thunderbird again and tell it your info, it will download it all and it’ll be exactly the same. And “intricate coding tweaks”? It’s copy and paste. I’m starting to wonder how you got this article on to the Internet at all.
I opened Mac’s Thunderbird, and my jaw dropped again. The font on every email was so small, I was going to need the Hubble telescope just to answer my morning mail. After an hour, I could feel the pressure in my eyes, the vessels constricting.
Again with this fucking drama. The default font size to compose in Thunderbird is 12 (normal), and there’s a zoom in function right in the menu bar. And incoming email is shown in the size it was written in, Thunderbird has nothing to do with it. I can actually picture Kors trying to write with an eraser, bitterly cursing the manufacturers for putting the lead at the wrong end of the pencil.
There were two obvious solutions: For the next few years I could type every letter in 16-point font, then decrease the font size just before sending it, or I could decrease the screen’s radically high resolution.
OR YOU COULD JUST ZOOM IN, YOU LUDDITE FUCK.
I rolled my eyes at all the programs I had to quit twice to truly shut down, and grimaced at the dock shortcut to my MP3 folder, which malfunctioned after one day, topping the inert folder icon with a question mark.
Let me share with you a secret to the whole quitting thing. ⌘-Q. Done. That’s it. Or you can do it in the menu bar, or by right clicking on the Dock icon. This is not a complicated process. As for the question mark in the dock icon (by the way, who keeps their music in a folder on the Dock?), that means the folder isn’t there anymore. Which means you moved it. Which means that’s your fault.
The final straw came when Mac’s Firefox took me to my website. To my horror, all the spacing was askew, the graphics tossed left and right like the wreckage of a hurricane. I asked myself: As a web designer, how can I design web pages when I can’t see what 90 percent of my viewers are seeing?
I honestly don’t know what’s worse here. First of all, “Mac’s Firefox” is exactly the same as Windows’ Firefox. It renders the HTML coding on your website. I haven’t seen a single website that renders differently between Mac and Windows, let alone moves shit around. I honestly think he just made that part up, especially since his website looks like it was designed by a 12-year-old in the 90s.
And secondly, YOU’RE A WEB DESIGNER? How do you function? How do you make a living dealing with the intricacies of coding if you don’t know how to open a fucking font menu? That’s like a mechanic who doesn’t know how to put gas in his car. Or a doctor who doesn’t know how to fill a syringe. Or a hooker that can’t unzip a zipper. To quote Val Kilmer, you wouldn’t know which hole to feed yourself through if you didn’t flap your mouth so much.
Of course, the Internet jumped all over him, berating his idiocy. To respond, he wrote a second article explaining that all those letters really hurt his feelings (he even used the It Gets Better campaign as a cheap emotional ploy, the bastard) and besides, he was just kidding. He says he’s not really that dumb.
Sure. That’s exactly what I would say.