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iPhone, you phone

I know it's only weeks since I was banging on about my 10-year-old mobile phone - but it has now been consigned to the great stock cupboard of electronic life. I've upgraded to an iPhone.

It might seem a feeble cave-in, when I was proud of keeping my old mobile for so long - but the idea was never to hang on to it forever, just longer than the mayfly existence of most personal electronics. I hope I keep my iPhone for a good few years too.

When they first came out I was disdainful of their locked-in proprietary nature and hated the way they forced you to go to a single phone company. But I have been gradually worn down by a series of blows - from falling in love with my daughters' iPod Touches to the sheer joy that the eloquent Dr Henry Gee has clearly gained from his iPhone.

It may be a honeymoon period, but right now it's just so exciting. I mean, you can... no. I won't bore you with the obsessive details. But can a phone where checking your voicemail messages is fun be anything but wonderful? I'll keep my enthusiasm for other features and apps to another day, though. It's possible to have too much even of a good thing.


  1. Soooo, Mr Clegg, we meet at last! (strokes white cat, extends little finger...) You have finally succumbed to my Evil and Nefarious Designs! Mwah ha ha ha ha ha! (Puts down cat, goes to immense cathedral organ and plays opening bars of BWV 565, no, you look it up).

    After some months of happy iPhonership I conclude that the best thing about the iPhone is that it doesn't have an instruction manual because it doesn't need one. That, if nothing else, is a testament to the excellent design of this contraption.

  2. For those too lazy to look up BWV 565, here are the opening bars:


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