A few years ago, I surrendered any right to sneer at Black Friday shoppers; I became one of them.
I’m betting on my own ability to prevent iPhone catastrophes. As long as I don't bust my phone more than once every few years, that gamble will continue to pay off.
My sleep-tracking app is surprisingly accurate, and I enjoy peeking at the trend lines every once in a while. But I don’t actually do much with all that data.
Publishing something imperfect, let alone something that's genuinely bad, is difficult for me.
Even if the Portrait mode algorithms improve, I'd like to see some support for touching up problematic depth maps.
Football is irredeemably brutal. A new test may help us confront that fact.
The internet has fundamentally changed my relationship to content. I won't go back.
For basic home operations, rock-solid reliability is the only feature that matters.
I grew up shopping in dingy, cavernous, fluorescent-lit warehouses. But Apple outlets resemble high-end, big-city fashion boutiques, more than they do the Rust Belt K-Marts of my youth.
I want the Watch to show up as a system-wide audio target any time it's connected to the phone—just like standalone Bluetooth speakers and headphones do.