There's a viewpoint that believes there's a rent-seeking corporate model that leaves no stone unturned. I cite as evidence to the contrary my existence under a heavy stone. At least I think it's heavy. Either it's too heavy to lift or best left unturned in order to keep the likes of me in their place.
In the interest of exposition, I first cite evidence of the existence of the aforementioned model in the form of an apple and a window:
Consumers be hungry. To eat a window is to know the pane of existence. Those consumers who have recognized the pane for the pain it is have chosen to eat each day (and all day) the proverbial fruit that grows from the labor of people they must think (at least somewhere deep in their underawareness in order for their awareness to live with whatever is left of it) are nary but trolls toiling happily for the fruits of their labor, roots and grubworms, and that they otherwise feel no pain and suffer no uncertainty. Am I certain this is not the case?
The proprietor of this daily and day long fruit owns the apple and the seed. And so does this Johnny Appleseed wield a quasi solitary influence over his laborers and consumers, the latter of which occasionally enough express a feeling of being coerced while demonstrating their loyalty to their marketplace master. For many have otherwise known the pain of regularly renewed shard consumption.
Johnny Appleseed leaves no stone unturned in seeking profit, as if down to the final minted nickel, "There's five cents left in his pocket!"
He has his contrivers continually re-engineer both apple and seed so that just in time for the quarterly greet-ups he can announce that his consumers will be needing a lip and tooth and belly and bowel enhancement to keep up with the marvels of modern digestibles.
Leaving aside the technological elephant you didn't used to need to eat, let alone feel compelled by its eye candy conveying quality you can't look away from, I return to my original point that it's not always done this way and cite as an example my subscribed-to enabler of this form of communication:
He/She/It/They started, as the tale often goes, as the upstart eager to jump into the market. Let's call them Malice.
Malice built a loyal following doling out data rates and rock bottom prices, only to cash in and cash out when someone with global level naming rights, let's call them GoTo, swallowed them like the snack you get before the pilot says you're getting ready to land.
It would be normal as a customer in this scenario to expect to get screwed. There is no way in hell my something-nine ninety-nine per monthly ransom would not be going up. Yet here it is, decades accrued, and not a nickel more.
Sure, over the years that followed I'd been strangled occasionally, followed uncannily by a robocop offering me a cigarette before the strangler returns, i.e. respite from future threat, but even that dissipated.
Don't get me wrong. I don't mean to suggest I am being rewarded for my loyalty. Alternative reasoning would consider a business school approach whereby all newcomers pay an ever more punitive price for membership, and the oldies are left alone, lest they be lost to someone they know they can't quite swallow. Yet.
In other words, somehow they haven't managed to monopolize the market à la the democratic apple in the republic of windows, where the fruit functions as resistance to anything better and its host pummels what's left into asphalt paste.
My guess is there are few enough of my variety to make the tiniest bump on a chart that charts bumps in behemoth boardrooms. Because for a giant that large, the stone would be so easy to turn.
