Written by Samuel Smith

Last week I threw my Iriver at a wall.

“Why?” you may ask. Because my cat decided to fight an inferior feline on the bonnet of my beloved Nissan Cima Gloria (if you don’t want to listen to a half hour long rant about horse power, turbo lag and JDM body kits it’s best not to ask). Unfortunately, my poor Iriver E10 didn’t live to tell its life story, which is probably a good thing as I can assure you, it spent every day of its life internally screaming and begging for eternal slumber (I have the music taste of a 14-year-old girl from the Bronx). Although satisfying at the time, seconds after my outburst of anger, I realised the extent of my loss. Lines such as “Wha chu gonna do when you get outta jail? I’m gonna do a remix,” would never be blasted through my ear drums again. I tried to move on, but deep down I knew that my life would never be the same.

It was then, in my darkest hour, that the Lennox MP4 player entered my life. “A what?” you may ask. You’re not supposed to know. These abominations are so useless and so infuriating that the only people who actually know about their existence are the slave labourers who were paid five cents per hour to create them. Then again, they probably would have killed themselves already. Moving right along, I came across this mystical contraption one rainy Saturday, when my father decided to take me to the most expensive and upper class electronics centre in Adelaide – Mount Barker Cash Converters.

After being greeted by a welcoming “Hoi, haw are ya?” Dad proceeded to view the extensive MP3 player range. I stood with my back facing the cabinet, trying to imagine that I was in the video clip to The Ketchup Song instead of being surrounded by stolen goods and broken dreams. It didn’t work, and before I knew it, “Cheryl” was giving my father the low-down on the cheapest, nastiest looking piece of electronic craftsmanship I had ever laid my eyes upon. “Yeah, it’s uh, fifteen dollars mate,” she said. I felt like even she, with her bling-bling, greased up ponytail and ill-fitting Cash Converters uniform was judging me now. My ever optimistic father asked the question “how many songs does it hold?” but was only greeted with rambling about how it plays MP4 files and that they don’t know if it works because they lost the charger and the battery doesn’t seem to be installed properly. I left the store. Dad decided to stay and invest his well-earned money in what appeared to be a one way ticket to hell.

When we got home, Dad magically repaired the battery, found a charger and fixed every other electronic problem the MP4 player had. I then decided to see what this baby was made of, and bravely pressed the “on” switch once, twice, three times, still nothing; four times. “LOADING, NOW LOADING, PLEASE WAIT, LOADING” appeared across the screen in uplifting rainbow font. “Wow, it looks so professional,” I thought to myself.  The text slowly faded, only to be replaced with a screen that read “MADE BY APPLE IN CALIFORNIA.” “Oh wow, how classy!” I gasped. The MP4 player then proceeded to take me through menu screens that looked as if they had been drawn by upside down monkeys, until I reached the ominous “PLAY” feature. Dad had previously added some of my faves to the MP3 list (god bless him), so I was all ready to go. The moment of truth had arrived. I had a good feeling about this. As my life flashed before my eyes, I slowly pressed the big green play button, only to be greeted with a message stating “FAILED TO INITIALISE. TERMINATING.” “Fuck this,” I screamed (in my mind), as I walked calmly outside and proceeded to throw the Lennox MP4 player at a wall.