I am writing this column on my new 17-inch Apple ­MacBook Pro--and oh, man, it's a beautiful machine.

I have owned this model of computer before. I used my old MacBook Pro until the other day; but sadly, foreign travel dented its aluminum casing, dulled all its surfaces with dust and oil, and reduced its screen to flickering fog--and as it ceased to be new, I became insensible to its virtues. But this machine is box-fresh, and novelty has rekindled my crush. (You can see my actual laptop on this page of the photo essay, "Objects of Desire", where its design is praised as iconic.)

I love my MacBook Pro because its broad but slim body seems luxuriously solid yet also gracefully light. I love how the resistance subtly increases when I press a key, flattering my touch. I love the crisp definition of the graphics on its large, luminous screen. Most of all, I love how all my Macintosh software shares an elegant iconography and navigation scheme, and how all my Apple hardware works together uncomplainingly. The 17-inch MacBook Pro, in the famous phrase of Steve Jobs, Apple's founder and chief executive, is "insanely great."