T

2114

Another Fine Homemade Parachute Page, Crafted With Love

I. Overture
"And the licensed shall inherit the earth."


II. Radio of iTunes
We've taken care of everything
The tunes you hear
The Boards you Spring
The pictures that give (App Store reviewer approved) pleasure
To your eye
All for one, yes—All. For. One.
Curate together
Average ratings
Never need to wonder
How or why

We are the Curators, of the Radio, of iTunes
Our great computers fill the tiniest pockets.
We are the Curators, of the Radio, of iTunes
All the gifts of life are charged by micro sockets.

Look around this world we made
Build quality our stock in trade
Come and join the Bro'hood of Steve

Oh what a nice contented world
Let the WWDC banners be unfurled
Hold the (Red) 5c proudly high WWDC eve.

We are the Curators, of the Radio, of iTunes
Our great computers fill the sweatiest hand.
We are the Curators, of the Radio, of iTunes
All the gifts of life—hey, don't interrupt the 3G band!


III. Discovery
What can this strange device be?
When I tap it, it gives forth a sound
It's got a scrollwheel and hard disk and playlists
But no streaming services to be found…?

See how it sings into its earbuds
And joyously shuffles songs
Prog riffs build high like a mountain
Goddamn, I wish I had my bong…

I can't wait to share this new wonder
The people will all see its light
Let them all share their own iMix
The Curators'll Ping my name on this night.


IV. Presentation
I know it's most unusual
To come before you so
But I've found an ancient iMiracle
I thought that you should know

Listen to this music
And see what it can cost
Look at these textures, this typography
Mere pixels, yet looks embossed!

Yes, we know it's nothing new
It's just a waste of time
We have no need for skeuomorphic ways
It's just a user interface crime

Another toy that helped destroy
The hearing range of man
Forget about your silly "pod",
We've already chosen, you—we know better than.

I can't believe you're saying
Some things are better bought than streamed

Our world could use this beauty
Our own music, not recommended by some fiend.

Listen to this music
It's purchased, mine forever
I can listen to it all day long
Even if my wifi is severed.

Don't annoy us further
Rented music is the way
Just think about the average
Why should they be expected to pay?

Another toy that helped destroy
The hearing range of man
If we decide we don't like your songs
We'll remove them—yes we can!


V. Oracle: The Dream
I wandered home though the silent streets
The Maps app had got me lost with its deceits

Escape to realms beyond the night
Flashlight app can't you give me some light?

I sit inside a self-driving car
An oracle confronts me there
GPS leads me on light years away
To locovore markets, Starbucks cafés

I see gatefold sleeves, with triple panes
Grooves worn out, yet no one complains

Long avourite songs, no one's disdain,
A lyric sheet, lovingly bent and stained

They left the planet long ago
Their campus spaceship left us all below

Their power grows with chargers strong
To claim the home where they belong
Home, to tear the monopoly down…
Home, to change…


VI. Soliloquy
The sleep is still in my eyes
The Glass is still on my head

I grab some fridgetoast and sadly smile
And tap the app to make my bed

I wish these earbuds had some bass
And that these labels weren't all lower case…

Just think of what my phone might be
With a gigabyte library like I have seen

I don't think I can carry on
Carry on this cold and empty algorithm
Oh…noo.

My signal is low and the depths of despair
My last coffee cup spills over…


VII. The Grand Finale
Attention all Vendors of the Open Handset Alliance
Attention all Vendors of the Open Handset Alliance

Tizen has assumed control
Tizen has assumed control
Tizen has assumed control