While I grind out the soul crush­ing weeks until I can actu­ally have my iPad I’ve been wait­ing for that one spe­cial iPad arti­cle that would unleash my cre­ative rage. The blog post with that cer­tain some­thing that would push it above the gen­eral morass of inanity that we’ll be scream­ing about on Ye Olde Angry Mac Bastards pod­cast this week. Thank Satan for that cranky old fuck­wit Dave Winer for step­ping up to the plate for me. The head­line is: Is iPad a game-changer?

Of course, with that head­line you know you’re in for a world of stu­pid. First we have the clas­sic troll method of pre­sent­ing your the­sis in the form of the neg­a­tive response to the ques­tion you’ve posed. Of course Dave Winer doesn’t think that the iPad is a game changer, only a drool­ing fool would ever expect that. Also, side note to Dave: “is the iPad a game changer?” Fuck man, arti­cles aren’t just the things that you pre­tend to read Playboy for! Second, who gives a monkey’s fuck if the iPad is a “game-changer”? What the fuck is a “game-changer” any­way. Try eval­u­at­ing the iPad based on some­thing other than straw­man argu­ments for a change you hoary old prick.

Moving on to the good stuff, Dave sub­jects us to six para­graphs of rem­i­nisc­ing about the 1988 U.S. Presidential elec­tion, a failed IBM com­puter launch and the film The Prestige before finally get­ting to the point. Dave begins by cri­tiquing the iPad as a writ­ing tool:

Like every­one else who got one, I am try­ing to fig­ure out how to make it my own. I keep hit­ting frus­trat­ing lim­its. I want to use it to write. Impossible, I’ve dis­cov­ered. None of my writ­ing tools are there. Not just the ones I use to enter key­strokes into the com­puter, and edit and revise them, but also the tools I use for find­ing infor­ma­tion I want to ref­er­ence in my sto­ries. For exam­ple, when I wrote this piece, I para­phrased the quote from Bowie, expect­ing that later, when I’m revis­ing it, I’ll be able to get the exact words either by look­ing it up on the web, or by play­ing the movie on my com­puter and tran­scrib­ing the words. Both are of course pos­si­ble on the iPad, assum­ing the movie is already on board, but the looking-things-up part can be really awk­ward, at least for me, now. Maybe I’ll learn the ele­gant way to do it.

You heard it from Dave Winer first folks. The iPad is impos­si­ble to use to write. If only, IF ONLY I had pur­chased a WiFi only model so I could be writ­ing this on an iPad. Let’s dis­sect Dave’s points though. “None of my writ­ing tools are there.” Now, I am fully will­ing to accept the fact that what­ever work­flow that Dave uses to vomit his asi­nine com­men­tary onto the web is not repli­cated on the iPad. I’d be fuck­ing sur­prised if it was. But let’s dig deeper still. “Not just the ones I use to enter key­strokes into the com­puter…” says Dave. What in the ever-christing-fuck does Dave Winer use to write with, fuck­ing clay tablets and a sty­lus. I know what I use — a fuck­ing key­board — and the iPad has key­boards in spades. If the on-screen key­board doesn’t tickle your nuts, pair it with a Bluetooth keyboard.

Moving on, Dave bemoans the fact that he can’t use the iPad to locate infor­ma­tion for use in his tex­tual feces toss­ing; such as an exact quote from the movie that he was nat­ter­ing on about before. Again I have to ask: how in the Nine Circles of Hell does Dave Winer func­tion in the 21^st Century? Here’s how you do research on the iPad you gorm­less twat, you use the fuck­ing inter­net! It took me typ­ing exactly five words and press­ing enter to locate the quote that Dave was look­ing for. What the fuck is Dave expect­ing an iGe­nie to pop out of the damned screen and deliver infor­ma­tion from on-high?

I was going to keep demol­ish­ing Dave’s points, but I can’t. I’ve shot my load on this one. One fuck­ing para­graph con­tains more stu­pid than I can deal with in one day. It con­tin­u­ally astounds me that any­one is will­ing to lis­ten to a sin­gle opin­ion of Dave Winer’s that doesn’t involve what fla­vor of oat­meal to eat or the rel­a­tive mer­its of var­i­ous brands of adult dia­pers. Seriously, for the love of all that’s unholy, some­one put this decrepit old bas­tard in a home before he hurts him­self, or worse yet gives me an aneurysm.