One thousand dillies
Get a load of this shit: Apple recently removed a program from the iPhone’s App Store called I Am Rich. For $1,000, iPhone users could download I Am Rich “to alert people that you have money in the bank.”
Sounds like something someone from Newport Beach would buy.
According to the Los Angeles Times article, eight people worldwide — six in the US, one in France, and one in Germany — downloaded the application before it was removed from the online store. The program’s developer, Armin Heinrich, pocketed $5,600 (30 percent of each sale goes to Apple).
Heinrich is unsure why Apple removed the application from the App Store. He believes it has a market (Newport Beach, and Laguna Beach, too), and that a lot more people are interested in buying it. I don’t doubt that. There are probably thousands of status hungry iPhone owners who would love to accessorize their outdated — not to mention, less glamorous and exclusive — cell phones since the release of the faster, sleeker, and — *gasp* — cheaper iPhone 3G. Although the original may work perfectly, it’s not as aristocratic as it was. That’s where I Am Rich comes in. For a cool thou it will boost you back into the elite by…doing nothing. But how many others, even among the new version iPhone owners, can boast of owning a program that flaunts your wealth with a digital red gem?
The others dumb enough to buy it.
Last night my dad told me about a robbery in Iowa City. A masked man held up the Hy-Vee gas station at Waterfront and Stevens and got away with $1,000. I’m pretty sure an exclusive iPhone app wasn’t his motivation.
It’s interesting to think of what that says about our country, our society. For $1,000 one man will disguise himself and threaten an innocent convenient store clerk with a Glock, possibly to feed his family or a drug addiction, while another man will use the same amount to buy a useless cell phone feature to make himself feel and appear more important.
What would I do with a thousand dillies? I’d put it in my savings account and earmark it as money for grad school. After 30 more gas station robberies I’d be set.
Once downloaded, it doesn't do much — a red icon sits on the iPhone home screen like any other application, with the subtext ‘I Am Rich.’ Once activated, the user is treated to a large, glowing gem. That's about it. For a thousand dollars.
Sounds like something someone from Newport Beach would buy.
According to the Los Angeles Times article, eight people worldwide — six in the US, one in France, and one in Germany — downloaded the application before it was removed from the online store. The program’s developer, Armin Heinrich, pocketed $5,600 (30 percent of each sale goes to Apple).
Heinrich is unsure why Apple removed the application from the App Store. He believes it has a market (Newport Beach, and Laguna Beach, too), and that a lot more people are interested in buying it. I don’t doubt that. There are probably thousands of status hungry iPhone owners who would love to accessorize their outdated — not to mention, less glamorous and exclusive — cell phones since the release of the faster, sleeker, and — *gasp* — cheaper iPhone 3G. Although the original may work perfectly, it’s not as aristocratic as it was. That’s where I Am Rich comes in. For a cool thou it will boost you back into the elite by…doing nothing. But how many others, even among the new version iPhone owners, can boast of owning a program that flaunts your wealth with a digital red gem?
The others dumb enough to buy it.
Last night my dad told me about a robbery in Iowa City. A masked man held up the Hy-Vee gas station at Waterfront and Stevens and got away with $1,000. I’m pretty sure an exclusive iPhone app wasn’t his motivation.
It’s interesting to think of what that says about our country, our society. For $1,000 one man will disguise himself and threaten an innocent convenient store clerk with a Glock, possibly to feed his family or a drug addiction, while another man will use the same amount to buy a useless cell phone feature to make himself feel and appear more important.
What would I do with a thousand dillies? I’d put it in my savings account and earmark it as money for grad school. After 30 more gas station robberies I’d be set.
Comments
Post a Comment