Let's talk art, shall we?
There was a time when Apple[1] represented the aesthetic counterpoint to the heartless freezer of technology.
Where once there were inanimate boxes, there were suddenly glorious turquoise iMacs[2] that said hello, there to be admired and occasionally typed into.
Where once there were clumsy, heavy phones, there were suddenly the prettiest round-edged iPhones[3], there to be admired as much as used.
These days, while the launch of a new iPhone creates an obligatory stirring, we've become used to the basic forms of iPhones, iPads, MacBooks, and even watches.
Nothing startles. Nothing dazzles. Nothing reshapes our view.
Utilitarianism has taken over to such a degree that we're supposed to be more excited about the usefulness of new software than the visual joys of hardware. (Please don't tell me there's anything aesthetic about AirPods[4].)
At last week's Apple event[5], it was wonderful to hear again how an Apple Watch can save lives, how an iPad can be faster than a Chromebook, and how Apple is (allegedly) helping to save the environment.
Some might have muttered that the most pulsating element was Apple's introduction of Fitness Plus[6], software through which people with perfect bodies shout at you for overindulging in pierogis and Pinot.
Yet this was merely software being played through existing hardware.
This wasn't a vertically integrated Peloton-like offering that included a gorgeous, breathtaking redesign of the bike.
Which made me wonder: Why doesn't Apple make a bike?
Please, don't talk to me about money and profits and other elements that dull human existence. Talk to me about visual and spiritual uplift. Don't you