Interview with “Skeuomorphic”

Here at Satiritron, we consider our job to be the curation of history, so when we get the chance to speak directly with a powerful agent of history, we jump at it.

Satiritron: “Skeuomorphic” is a brand-new word, created by Apple as a way to describe their design of software with visual flourishes that make the software resemble its physical counterpart. Like iCal having that cool leather graphic, with the fake scraps of paper at the top. It’s our pleasure today to talk to such an up-and coming new word. Skeuomorphic, thanks for talking to us today.

Skeuomorphic: Apple didn’t make me, okay? Let’s clear that shit up right now.

Satiritron: Really? I thought that –

Skeuomorphic: I am everywhere, but you couldn’t give two shits about me until your precious Apple became all popular, and even then it wasn’t until some pretentious asshole started using the word because he thought he was so clever for noticing a brand-new trend that’s thousands of years old. I know that the hard-core Apple fans tend to think that everything Apple does is some brand-new innovation, despite years of prior art, but that shit’s insulting.

Satiritron: I’m sorry; I had no idea. What are some examples older than Apple’s use?

Skeuomorphic: I’m as old as ancient greek temples, you dick. Mutules, gutttae and modillions are ornamental elements meant to mimic earlier construction methods where what they resemble are actually necessary. So I suppose you could say that contrary to what the idiot tech blogosphere says, I’ve been in your business since the dawn of history. Before, because prehistoric pottery had imitation metal rivet marks.

Satiritron: That’s fascinating. Anything else?

Skeuomorphic: Oh, god, yes. You ever hear of a hubcap? That’s a skeuomorph, because it looks like wagon wheel spokes, but isn’t necessary to the function of the car. Those little non-functional handles on the glass jugs of maple syrups are skeuomorphs. So are the fake rivets on your jeans that hide the real connective element. Or fake wood panelling, or basically any imitation of a thing built in a different way. Skeuomorphs are also everywhere in software; any calculator app meant to look like a physical calculator is a skeuomorph, okay?

Satiritron: You’re opening my eyes, here, skeuomorphic. Why aren’t you happier about your resurgence in popularity?

Skeuomorphic: Because I’m about acknowledging history; it’s why I exist. So when someone comes along and acts like there’s this new thing that, hey ho, has never been done before, that shit chaps my ass. But when that someone is a group of Mac fanboys? Cheeeeeee-rist! It’s like, hey, you twats: you’ve ignored me forever, but now that you’ve figured out that I’m the description for the way your bum-buddy is designing its interfaces, I’m a word with meaning? Now I’m worthwhile? Well, fuck you, I’m not some membership card to an exclusive club you need to wave around constantly so the bouncer doesn’t kick to the cold, empty street, you assholes. I’m not a soother that brain-dead rave kids hang around their neck.

Satiritron: Hunh.

Skeuomorphic: That shit hurts, doesn’t it, you pretentious dick?

Satiritron: It does indeed, Skeuomorphic. We’re running out of time, but do you want to offer up any final words for our readers?

Skeuomorphic: Sure: I know people get excited when a thing they care about starts to do something cool, and they want to tell people about it. I get that. I really do. But when you start running around acting like that’s brand new, like you’re the one who’s discovered this new thing that everybody’s already been talking about forever, you look like a moron. You look like a teenager who’s just started having sex, thinking everything you’re doing is some unique thing nobody’s ever thought of before. You, tech bloggers, are that guy who gets laid for the second time and excitedly says “We came up with this great new way to have sex last night: from behind!” while everyone around you rolls their eyes because they hate you. Stop being that guy. Nobody has any respect for that guy. Or, to put it more succinctly: Get off my lawn, you dicks. Get off my lawn.