Over winter break, in between stuffing my face with Christmas cookies and binge-watching episodes of “Glee,” I managed to read an entire book.
Now, I should really stop right there as that itself is a feat most unimaginable for students of the digital age who get their amusement from perusing memes capturing their social discomfort and posting staged photos to Instagram in an effort to show the world that they don’t have problems in social situations.
At the risk of offending anyone, I’ll continue discussing the book I read.
If you haven’t read “Steve Jobs” by Walter Isaacson, I highly recommend it. As a judgemental bitch and harsh critic, seldom do I find a book so captivating. The writing was excellent and the tech tycoon was revealed to be so much more than the company he spearheaded.
I’m not sure how much you know about Steve Jobs, but I can give you a quick summary of the book: prodigious child convinces altruistic coder to sell his product, makes billions, and names his company after a fruit only eaten in public to convey an image of health and self-control before retreating to the privacy of your home to eat a line of Oreos.
I was so inspired by the life of this man that I decided to drop the acronym WWJD (“What would Jesus do?”) and embrace a new life motto: WWSJD (“What would Steve Jobs do?”). For the benefit and progress of mankind, I thought I’d share some of my reflections from acting as I thought Steve Jobs would.
Reflection: Steve Jobs did a lot of drugs in college.
Me: No comment.
Reflection: Steve Jobs cried when he didn’t get his way.
Me: Gets upset at the futility of mankind.
Reflection: Steve Jobs dropped out of college.
Me: Definitely thought about it.
Reflection: Steve Jobs told people their work was shit.
Me: Told people their lives are shit.
Reflection: Steve Jobs remained emotionally distant.
Me: Human connection is a social construct.
I found that it wasn’t a matter of changing my life to live it more like Steve Jobs—it was realizing that I was already living my life like him.
Steve Jobs died after being diagnosed with cancer and ignoring it for months, under the belief that natural remedies and positive thinking could cure him. I’m dying inside and handle it by liking nihilist memes on Facebook and hoping someone will see my cry for help.
Perhaps my most upsetting realization during my time living as Steve Jobs is that I can be a terrible person, but that at the time of my death I’m not going to have a net worth of $11 billion.