“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.”

Release the new MacBooks Pro... tomorrow!!!


"Regardless of how Apple corporate wants to portray its products,
 the Mac isn't a machine for the masses any more than red wine is
 the preferred beverage at baseball games.
 :
 So who cares about ubiquity anyway?" --D. Story