Understand me. I don’t easily give myself over to government conspiracies, urban mythologies, UFO sightings, or Sasquatch sightings in suburban backyards. So I was a little skeptical when I turned on my smart phone this morning to learn that the Samsung Play Store was recommending a new “install” of something called a “push service.”
I immediately thought of people being pushed to their deaths from New York subway platforms. You could attribute the conjuring of that dismal image to generational dysfunction. If I were a savvy post-collegiate twenty-something, I would have immediately known that these persistent, annoying incursions into my private Idaho could propel me to new heights of self-awareness, to raptures heretofore inconceivable
Samsung’s newly revised “push service” Samsung is an operating system doo-hickey that allows the smart phone to operate the user by remote control. According to early online reviews at the Samsung Play Store, this is much preferred to the unpleasant option of being remote-controlled by the government.
But the app offers WAY more exciting possibilities, and I quote other users:
“After upgrading, aliens landed in front of my house,” reports Chirag Galani, excitedly.
The new app was also a transformational event for Lee Wilkinson who thanked Samsung this way:
“As a small balding woman, my life was at a dead end. Then I updated this app and am now a young bearded man with a full head of hair.”
Not all transformational events engendered by the new app have been gleeful. A rather gloomy Madasahat acknowledged the unearthly power of Samsung’s new add-on, but found the new app hazardous after installing it:
“…random people started following me, they killed my dog, burnt my house down, spread lies about me on social media … and the worse (sic) thing about this app? It gave me back my virginity.”
Yes, the truth of the new Samsung “push service” was not always pleasant but few reviewers of this powerful new technology doubted its power. Whether praise or condemnation resulted from installing the app, everyone admits it is a life-changing experience, a magical phenomenon yet in the process of unfolding.
One male user may get “mutation power like the X Men” while another was “swarmed by the loving cast of Seinfeld” while receiving the support of his alter ego Jennifer Lawrence. Another user has packed supplies and is anxious to meet you on the “other side” after boarding the “UFO that has docked above my great city…”
Among the greatest gifts to users from the new app is its ability to push progeny from the wombs of infertile women, and to recompense ED afflicted males. The fertility motif abounds in many reviews of the new app, and without being excessively graphic, many Play Store reviewers agreed that the latest Samsung app has the capability to make men swell with pride.
As for me, after much handwringing and internal debate, I decided to install the application. I would not make the egregious claims put forth by those optimistic, fresh-faced, twenty-somethings yet the new app does possess a certain je ne sais quoi. After downloading, I am no longer uncertain about certain events which have troubled me since my youth.
Within the instant I installed it, a host of 1960s and 1970s revelations became clear. I suddenly knew with 100 percent certainty that Lee Harvey Oswald was indeed a “patsy,” as he claimed in film of his capture. Shortly thereafter, the eerie ghosts of Mafia men visited me in the night and told me they had hired the man who shot JFK from the “grassy knoll.” The same nocturnal creatures informed me that the Mafia had sent fellow mobster Jack Ruby to shut up Oswald, and that Ruby died of poisoning, not cancer, after getting news of being granted a new trial. Oh, and did I mention that Jimmy Hoffa’s body was burned in a mob incinerator at a meet packing plant?
Thank you, Samsung, for closing the gap between generations.
