I desperately want an iPhone. I would be
able to look up maps wherever I was, find restaurants on the fly, consult
Wikipedia mid-conversation. It’d be my computer, my camera, my phone, my
planner, and my MP3 player; a map, a dictionary, a thesaurus, an encyclopedia. My
garage door opener. The iPhone is like a little slice of omniscience in your
hand and I have often thought to myself, if I could have one surgically
implanted in my palm, I would do it in a second.
Apple has chosen its branding and logo well.
A is for Apple- for students and teachers, for school and learning, for the
best grade you can get. Apples are natural, wholesome. One a day will keep the
doctor away. Apples are shiny red,
yellow, and green; they represent the freshness of spring, the deliciousness of
summer, the crispness of autumn. Isaac Newton discovered gravity, the story
goes, after being hit on the head by an apple. The apple is the all-American
fruit, the guts of the tastiest, most iconic American pie. It is the fruit in
the eye, the fruit of luscious sin. It is the fruit of the knowledge of good
and evil.
The symbols associated with the image are
multitudinous and powerful, activating a network of positive associations in
the brain when one thinks of “apple”. And it has also crated a new network of associations linked to the image- the
internet, the information age, electronics, hardware, software, an ingenious
operating system. The cleverness of the Apple apple lies in its ability to tap
into all of these positive associations and non-consciously link them to its
products. Now, when I look at the Apple apple, I think “Mmm. Delicious. Also,
great user accessibility.” It somehow manages to link brilliant technology with
the innocent naturality of a shiny Granny Smith. The sleekness of the company’s
advertising has ushered in a new era of post-industrial minimalist chic where
electronics are small, tidy and chrome, and we think them as natural as an
apple tree waving in the wind.