Apple vs. Samsung: the ultimate playground battle

One of the nice things about being a human in the developed world is that we have something called ‘choice’. While others less fortunate than us have to stick with what they get, we can pick our goods from a plethora of options. Everything we need is catered for by a huge number of companies and brands, and it’s up to us to choose what we want based on budget, requirements, or even colour.

Wait a minute. What’s that? You’ve got an iPhone? An actual iPhone? Are you serious?! What is wrong with you?

Yep, that’s right. We have choice, but when it comes to smartphones, those oh-so-essential pocket computers that we can’t live without, your choice can start the biggest (and most pitifully hilarious) online arguments.

The best time to witness such ‘mine is bigger than yours’ pettiness is right around the launch of a new Apple product. I guess because Apple has firmly established itself as the giant of the industry, anyone who doesn’t like it feels the need to pick holes in it. It’s standard ‘I can’t have it, so I must hate it’ psychology. In other words, it’s a bit pathetic. And by a bit, I mean very.

Head to any techy website when a new iPhone is released and you’ll find hundreds of comments declaring this latest gadget to be sh*t and endless reasons why Android is, like, so totally better. Reasons that don’t even matter. Is it a phone? Yes. Does it do all the things I need it to? Yes. That’s all I need to know.

The further you scroll through the comments, the more juvenile it gets. You’ll find highlights such as ‘Apple is so behind, only just making the screen bigger when Samsung has been doing it for ages!’ Is that important? Personally, I couldn’t give a toss about a bigger screen. I’ve got a tablet for that. ‘It’s just the same as the last iPhone!’ Hmm, no. I think you might be confused by the fact that Apple has developed its brand largely on the iconic design of the iPhone, but I’ll forgive you for that. ‘Tim Cook is gay!’ He beat you to that, I’m afraid.

I can’t help but feel slightly sorry for these passive-aggressive keyboard warriors. If you don’t like something then that’s fine. After all, it’s your freedom to choose and you’re entitled to your own opinions. But be grown up about it and accept that other people may choose differently from you. There are far more important things to be worried about.

Horrible Histories series 6: Where has all the laughter gone?

I first started watching Horrible Histories as a student on those afternoons when I’d roll out of bed and find nothing but back-to-back ‘chat’ shows on TV. So rather than stick needles in my eyes, which was the preferable option to watching four hours of Jeremy Kyle shouting at chavs with funny teeth, I flicked over to CBBC, and haven’t looked back since.

That is, until now. In the lull of a Sunday evening, right about the time when the ‘Oh no, work tomorrow’ blues kicked in, my spirits lifted as I spotted a brand new episode – nay, series! – of Horrible Histories on iPlayer (which, incidentally, is nowhere near as ‘gangsta’ as its name suggests). I immediately hit play, but something was amiss.

For starters, it’s out with the old as a completely new cast has taken over the reins of this one. Now, I’m all for change if it is for the better, but this just feels a bit, well, below par. The old ones, the good ones, managed to personify the brand of Terry Deary’s brilliant series of books that made learning feel like fun. The essence of Horrible Histories is that you’re laughing, but you’re actually learning, which is where schools go wrong. More than that, though, Horrible Histories struck that rare balance as a show intended for children that adults could actually sit through without wanting to rip their ears off. The poo jokes were for the kids, the satire for the adults.

This new bunch, however, seems to have been landed with too many of the poo jokes and not enough of the satire. Dear reader, I laughed not once during the latest episode. That’s a one hundred per cent decrease.

It’s not the new guys’ fault, though. It seems as though the show has fallen prey to one of those infamous budget cuts, as it mostly looks to have been made in front of a screen, minus the bits that they filmed in a field. And don’t even get me started on the rat. I could just about grin and bear that rodent narrator as the format of any children’s show demands some sort of accessible furry thing, but at least in the previous episodes the rat was energetic. Now it doesn’t even move its mouth in time to the voice. Talk about lacklustre (I tried to make that a rat pun. Didn’t). Looks like even the puppeteer has had a pay cut, reduced to just five mouth-movements per sentence.

Horrible Histories also made a name for itself with its songs. Hilarious send ups of popular music (favourites include the Georgian navy football song and the RAF à la Take That – look it up) that guaranteed you’d be waxing historical for the next six weeks. But the songs on this latest episode were just, dare I say it, dull. By the end of the show, I was left feeling robbed. Although I did learn a little more about the Magna Carta (mainly that King John was a bit of a dick).

So as the next episode of series six draws near, I’ll be watching in anticipation, hoping that this opener wasn’t a taste of things to come. History will always be horrible, but at least let’s be able to still laugh about it.

Black Friday: a dark day for mankind

Traditions are typically things to be celebrated; annual gatherings where we come together with our fellow human beings, let bygones be bygones, and forget about the troubles of this cruel world for a moment.

But what’s this? 30% off a television that I neither want nor need? Get the f*ck out of my way!

You see, this little island of ours, which once was home to quaint traditions involving twee costumes and the sound of innocent choral tones, has now fallen foul of a more sinister, er, ‘festivity’ from our friends across the pond: Black Friday.

It’s just as bleak as the name suggests. The premise of Black Friday is essentially grab what you can. It’s a day when shops offer discounts on TVs, computers, clothes – you name it, you’ll probably have to participate in a stampede to get it.

The scenes from Black Friday were utterly astonishing for all the wrong reasons. Crowds of eager bargain hunters queued all night outside Asda, baying for blood and a slightly cheaper TV. When doors were finally opened, in rushed the predators seeking out their prey, trampling over the weak and fighting those who dared get in their way. Staff in tears. The store in chaos. Chavs proclaiming victory for £20 off a flatscreen.

The police have condemned Black Friday, claiming they have enough to deal with without having to crowd-control the Asda crew. And while we can all appreciate the irony of the force’s plight, we have to agree that this nonsense really isn’t worth it. When people are hospitalised because they’ve been battered over a half price laptop or flattened by a falling TV, you have to say enough is enough. Nip this one in the bud.

Only it will carry on, year after year, chaotic scene after chaotic scene, because it makes the crowds part with their money. It’s an extremely clever, and mightily cruel, marketing trick. These are things that people don’t need, but flash some numbers in front of them and you trigger the primal urge to buy, buy, buy. Throw into the mix the idea that everyone will be after it, and you’ve sealed the deal – no one will be mad enough to miss it.

When you think about it, Black Friday is just a shallow, materialistic monstrosity that turns us supposedly civilised beings into animals. It’s taken millions of years of evolution to get to this stage, and we’re undoing that in one day for the sake of a bigger TV.