The first thing you notice about the all-new MacBook Pro Retina Display is its remarkable lightness. When you open the sleek clamshell and gaze deeply into the crystalline Retina Display, you feel that weight, that lightness, and a great heaviness descends on you. Because you have the great fortune to possess this thing of beauty, of power, this expression of human excellence. And you think, what a responsibility.
When you buy the MacBook Pro ($2,199) it is a declaration: I have arrived. I am a creator. I know and do great things. And for a while you believe your own words. The MacBook Pro tucked snugly in your messenger bag. You careening on a Japanese track bike. Behind you a café. Ahead of you possibility, creation, sex… You secure in the knowledge that you have this silicon miracle at your side. You could prototype that solar powered iPhone charger. You could edit that mini documentary about that Italian tailor down the street. But you wont. You’re on Facebook, using 5% of the Intel Core i7 processor to find out your ex-coworker’s dog just died. The majority of the computer powered down—asleep—because it knows what you do not. There’s no point. You’ll be on Facebook until the middle afternoon and then you’ll check your email for the fifth time today. As if some message is going to arrive that will change everything. Lift you and catapult you to somewhere better. It’s not going to happen.
So you carry that MacBook Pro and it is so light, so incredibly light. And you can’t bear the weight of it.