I’ve had three emails recently from iCloud — all crisp and official in the Apple colours and terminology. Of course there’s no one to reply to; the email is almost sterile in his hospital cleanliness and rightness. Anyway, we Catholics know full well, there’s no arguing with a cloud.
Each time one of these dire warnings has arrived, I’ve groaned and died a little. (iGroan, iDie)
Your iCloud storage is almost full. You have 7.99 MB remaining of 5 GB total storage.
It was with a huge amount of reluctance I let myself be frightened into the whole iCloud business all those years ago. ‘You could lose everything,’ was the mantra spouted to encourage me to sign up. I had to pay a strapping young lad — who could’ve been out using his muscles in my vege patch — a small fortune to connect me to the cumulus, but I went ahead.
Then it felt quite good. I had a mental image of my emails and photos being lugged up to a fluffy attic in the sky where termites and other earthly hazards couldn’t get them. I probably mixed up some of my childhood religious propaganda with a dose of natural superstition and then added a sprinkle of high tech terminology I’d gleaned from smart young things. I figured I had all my bases covered.
If I ever wanted to find a Christmas photo from the last ten years, I only had to reach into the cloud.
The reality of finding a ladder long enough (iClimb) or a young man desperate enough (iPay) seemed a problem I would face in the future.
Well the future is here, and I’m not happy. Who can I talk to? How the hell can the cloud be full? I was lead to believe clouds were infinite, like sand. Apple didn’t tell me I was only getting a mini cloud.
Maybe some of my other beliefs are up for question. Do only good people sit on clouds or is a regular free-for-all up there? Could someone be swinging in a hammock defacing my photos and reading my emails?
But the big question is, who the hell says it’s full?
Full is a term we’re all familiar with. I know when the fridge is full because when I shove in one more plate of leftovers — the olives spill down the back. And I know when my stomach is full because that last greedy slice of pizza forces me to sleep bolt upright all night. So I understand full. But how can the cloud be full? Has anyone checked? Is someone storing too much?
The next time I’m soaring at 30,000 feet, I’ll be scouring the spaces: the atmosphere, the stratosphere, the mesosphere …. It can’t all be used up.
If it’s really true and the clouds are chocka, (iDoubt) then perhaps the smart pioneers amongst us should start looking elsewhere. I’ve been eyeing up the oceans and wondering if we could plumb the depths, in virtual submarines. (iSink)
Clearly it has to be unreachable for ordinary mortals; otherwise I’d upgrade my own damn storage and go back to using the attic. (iReady).