iPad in the corridor

Bombs will fall. Bullets will fly. Lives will be lost and fortunes made. The battlefield may rage while the fire climbs. The heat may soar as the constant explosions hurl bodies. But beyond the clouds of war, a more powerful weapon lies. A single seed floats to the ground. It’s roots dig deeper and deeper into the soil. Leaves sprout from it’s branches. But this is no tree. The seed was no shell of genetic material. No, this seed was an idea. The product of it’s branches are not green, but black. Fresh ink drips to the floor, channels running from the words above. For no nuclear bomb could ever match the might of a single word. Well, in theory…

I am in love with my language. It’s possibilities fill me with adrenaline. The thought that I could change the world, one mouthful at a time. It’s why I started blogging; the reason behind me reading books; my greatest asset. Language.

Recently, some very clever people in very high places have managed to create something truly spectacular. Something that will change the human race forever. Technology is advancing at such a quick rate, our greatest assets are often left in the lime-light. Now, don’t get me wrong, an iPad is an incredible invention, so simple an intuitive, but it really is blocking the corridor. Several months ago, we bought an iPad for my dads birthday. He fell in love with it instantly, and like any good teenage son, I nicked it. I spent hour after hour playing on it. Completing angry birds and sketching portraits; I explored all aspects of it’s brilliance, but that was then. About a week ago, I realized that having an iPad was becoming a real problem. No longer could I find the courage to took into a nice new book, or a write a story. Al of my ideas flew away in the night. Words lost their place in my world. So, after much deliberation, I decided to restrict my use. For a while it worked, I resisted an managed to get some work done, even start reading new book. But here it is again, led down on the table next to me, the black apple logo observing my every move. So I’m asking politely now:

“Please Apple, will you take my iPad away from me!”