I have to give it to ya, Steve Jobs. You are a genius. Charging people to even talk to your support center when the computer that they bought from you 8 months ago decides to stop regcognizing its hard drive is one of the best ways I can think of to wrangle more money out of people who have already doled out far-above-market-price bucks for one of your shiny white creations.
Indeed had I know that I could load up one of your plastic-encased number-crunchers with an entire year of my life, including pictures of the amazing things I’ve done, papers and research components that make up my entire portfolio for School, and all of the music that I have bought to support my burgeoning DJ career just in time for it’s hard drive to suddenly and inextricably perform digital suicide I would have built up my collections to the macbook’s critical mass sooner in order to streamline the process of shoveling money at you hand over fist.
Granted, it is partially my bad for not getting a second hard drive and backing up my collections of gigs upon gigs of music and pictures and important documents; but at the same time there was a reasonable expectation on my behalf that a computer that is not even a year old and is supposed to be the pinnacle of Personal Laptop Engineering was going to up and die.
So I say boo to you, Stevie Boy. I tip my hat in grudging respect at your marketing and profit-raking savvy. I do this while at the same time slowly filling a tube sock with wood screws in the off chance that we meet, so I can let you know what it feels like to have a part of you forcibly removed, then charge you for directions to the hospital.
