I think feng shui should be used as a verb. “We should feng shui the furniture in my new apartment.” “It’s time to feng shui this antique glassware hutch.” “I’m going to feng shui the shit out of this place.” However, the world’s feng shui authorities have so far resisted my efforts. Instead, they are making iPhone apps.
North? Who cares about north.
I’m not clear why the phrase feng shui is barely used in this app. It’s all over the press release. Do the developers think that people using the App Store won’t be familiar with this unprovable Eastern pseudoscience? It was pretty popular about a decade ago. I heard Donald Trump and Paula Abdul use it. Not together. At least, not that I’ve heard. Maybe they do. When they hang out. In their spare time. Together.
Many have suggested that feng shui is a big scam. I don’t know about that, but this app sure seems like a big scam. Or possibly scamola.
This dumb app allows you to buy more dumb apps from inside it, like Russian nesting dolls for your PayPal account.
So, to get the full functionality of this app, it costs $41.96 for all the pieces. What does one get for this princely sum?
Tell me more about these "rooms."
“Learn how to best use various rooms in a space”? That vaguely Engrish sentence might make sense when you’re building a home in Second Life, but I have news for the developers of this app: most of us don’t get to decide where certain rooms are located in our house or apartment. Not even the ones rich enough to spend $42 on a pointless iPhone app.
“Come here, Alex. This is your new bedroom.”
“What? Mom, this is the bathroom.”
“Not any more. This iPhone app says it’s your room now. Also, your bed needs to point this way.”
“But there’s no room for my bed facing this way!”
“Well, you’re just going to have to fold it in half. Now let’s go have dinner in the garage.”
“Mom, this blows. I liked it better when you were just into kabbalah.”
Anyway, that’s enough out of me. It’s lunch time, and I could really feng shui a bucket of KFC right about now.
