Rage Against the IPod

Little white device new source of angst for Bay Area writers.

It's time to rage against the iPod

SOME QUOTE Shakespeare. Others, Catullus.

My go-to is Beck.

It's from a profile written about the rocker about 10 years ago in the pages of Spin magazine. In it, Beck goes on this epic, absolutely brilliant rant on the angst of grunge musicians, or at least their lyrics.

"Oh, the tragedy and the anguish," he said. "You just gotta Rage Against the Appliance, man. The toast is burning and you just gotta rip it out and free it before it fills the house with smoke. Rage Against the Toaster."

Yep. Rage Against the Toaster. Over the years, I've wielded the phrase when I've been particularly aggravated, especially by modern inconveniences. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's the appliance nuance to the phrase. But confronted by a serial cell phone chatterer cutting me off on the freeway or stymied by an Internet connection that's gone on the blink, out it comes.

Rage Against the Toaster.

There's a new object of my Rage Against the Toaster, though. And believe it or not, it's the iPod. Yes, the cute little white thing that has replaced the Walkman. The cute little white thing that has those cool television ads that make you want to discover your inner break dancer and join the dance party. The cute little white thing with the cute little signature white earphones. The cute little white thing that, you wait and see, just might be Time magazine's Cute Little White Thing of the Year 2005.

I hate it.