Note: All events described in this manifesto are either very true or very made-up. There are two doors and two brothers. Also two butterflies and a golden key. Choose wisely.
It is against my religion to accept any software updates from Apple. If I were my mother, writing, on my behalf, a note excusing me from updating my Mac software, I would write: “Dear Mr. Cook, please excuse Caroline from upgrading from macOS Big Sur to macOS Monterey because it would infringe upon our freedom of religion and by the way I think you are balding very well. Thank you. Sincerely, Caroline’s Mother.”
But this wouldn’t be how the note would go, anyways, because my mother’s first language is not English and inevitably I would have to write this letter myself, which would lead to a less polite and less respectful string of words on paper. For example, I would say, “Hi Tim. I was 15 minutes into illegally streaming Avengers: Endgame when a “virus” ate through my computer and caused five windows advertising “Women 50+ years old want to see you” to pop up and no matter what I did I couldn’t close them. Not only that but the Apple Terminal decided to open as well and give me a series of unhelpful cries for help written in Bash. (It seems you have a couple of atheist computer scientists trapped in your basement? The instructions for help were quite specific.) I even tried turning the laptop on and off. Your software was supposed to prevent something like this from happening. Either that or create “bug fixes” whatever that means. The worst part is that now I’m not sure if Iron Man makes it back to his wife and kids. Anyway, this is why I am declining to update my software anymore. Sincerely, Caroline.”
But while my mother is able to adhere to our religious morals because she simply does not have enough storage on her 2013 iPhone to update anything (she still doesn’t know FaceID exists), my religious practice is a little different.
For some reason, it aggravates me more to allow my iPhone to “update if connected to power between 11:00 PM and 5:00 AM” than to constantly hit “Remind Me Later.” It’s become part of my routine to lie in bed, snuggle comfortably under the covers, and 3... 2... 1... “Update tonight?” No. Remind me later. It’s almost comforting at this point — a gentle act of defiance against the Big Tech giants. I also use it as a reminder to go to bed at night. You might call it a religion of convenience.
The one downside that I have discovered from being a devout anti-updater is that I am no longer able to see the emojis my friends send me in response to my messages. Who knew that there needed to be more emojis than the crying-laughing face, the skull, and the two-streams-of-tears look? Apparently, Apple has recently added □□ to their emoji keyboard. Oh, you don’t know which emojis those are because they look just like rectangles made of a black-and-white void to you? Me too. Welcome to the club.
It is much harder to determine if your friends are appreciative of your text jokes or not in this new era of Apple updates. If you respond with □□ to my pun about eco-facism, how am I supposed to know if you are laughing or reporting me to the FBI watchlist?
But ultimately, I know the truth. Big Tech is God. And if I am not worshipping God, then I am worshipping false idols. I am a dirty heathen who needs to repent for two years in an Apple compound basement. If you see my name appear on your Bash terminal in the next month with instructions to Menlo Park, just know that I have been a brave martyr to my pagan religion.
So long dear Reader.
Caroline Choi is a starving artist and also a senior at Harvard. She has written for Teen Vogue, Harvard Political Review, and once for MTV News. She has never won any kind of literary award. Caroline is a a big proponent of lingering in places past sunset, hosting dinners, and reading children’s literature. One day, she hopes to die having made the world a better place.
2025