The Devil Wears iPhone.

The Fagot
a pain to inform you of the death of
HIS MOBILE PHONE
born NOKIA 3601
asleep in the peace of God, in its second year.
My phone just died. Peace to his soul. Prior to administering the last rites, I inquired of my surroundings to see what was the best model to buy to replace the late future.
Then a great clamor rose, from all holders of iPhones in the city of Paris
"Buy an iPhone! "
As you understood, a cascade of proselytism rabid pro-iPhone hit me. I just wanted to spend some of which (ahem) phone calls, I was relentlessly touted the virtues of a stupendous device which, judging by his followers, can almost do everything from simple pot -au-feu to express the healing of pancreatic cancer. Not a single unsatisfied? I've asked, wary. Then, in observing these fanatical supporters, just sweating a devotion to their machine close to amorous passion, his eyes bloodshot, his mouth foaming, the terrible truth came to me.
The iPhone is a creature of the devil.
Tel Regan MacNeil blithely spewing his mashed chickpeas, owner of the iPhone is actually the possessed, subject to the will of his Satanic demonic phone. How else to explain the supernatural fascination of those users who leave women, children and friends to spend day and night to tap on a piece of plastic? Explaining the look of psychotic unfortunate you explain with an almost orgasmic glee that this divine machine allows them to achieve incredible technological feats such as drinking a glass of beer digital imitate the sound of the lightsaber Mace Windu, or show Synthesis of ants on their screen?
Have you ever had lunch with a iPhoneur recently? Between the phone, sms, mails, internet, Facebook, music, camera, camera, television, video games and you'll be lucky if you can catch her eye. When you leave, you'll fine him explain that you live two blocks, he will insist on using GPS, a Google map of the cosmos and fold its integrated compass to make sure you drive safely. Looking for your keys? No need to trouble you, his metal detector is there to find out which pocket of your trousers they are. After all, that I have come to wonder if he used iTringle to honor his concubine.
I also suspect some particularly frenzied zombies users to maintain sexual relations with their gear Mephistophelian.
And now, iPhones start to explode around the world, crippling their slyly dedicated users.
Is this not the ultimate proof of the presence of the Evil?
Undeterred, the disciples continue their worship, singing fervently praise of God iPhone, sentenced to be beheaded at the turn of a routine call.
For my part, a phone that thinks it's Philip Laborer, it does not inspire me confidence. So instead I'll buy it:
Inelegant, but sturdy.