Another year, another slab of glass that bends in half and costs more than a used Honda Civic.
Samsung's latest foldable just dropped, and the tech reviewers are already doing their best impression of a hostage video pretending to love it.
Spoiler alert: the crease is still there, and so is the existential dread of paying rent money for a phone that folds.
Let's talk about the hinge, because that's apparently the only thing anyone cares about.
This year's model promises a "more durable" mechanism that'll survive roughly 200,000 folds, which sounds impressive until you remember the average American checks their phone 344 times a day.
That's not a phone, that's a ticking time bomb with a warranty that expires right around the time you finally stop babying it.
The screen is bigger now, because of course it is.
Unfolded, it's basically a small tablet, which means you can watch Netflix on a display that shows a visible dent right down the middle like a Hot Wheels track.
Meanwhile, the outer screen is still awkwardly narrow, so typing a text feels like playing piano with oven mitts on.
Battery life remains the elephant in the room.
A device with two screens, a complicated hinge, and a processor doing backflips eats power like a college freshman at a free buffet.
You'll be lucky to make it to dinner without hunting for a charger, and wireless charging is slower than a DMV line on a Monday.
For nearly two grand, "fine" should be a war crime.
You can get a flagship phone with a better camera, better battery, and zero crease anxiety for half the price.
But it doesn't fold, and apparently that's worth the premium to the twelve people who actually buy these things.
Samsung's One UI is packed with features nobody asked for, like split-screen multitasking that you'll use exactly once to impress a coworker before never touching again.
The AI stuff is here too, because 2024 legalized slapping "AI" on everything from toothbrushes to toaster ovens.
Your foldable can now summarize a webpage, which is great if you're too busy to read but somehow not too busy to spend $1,900.
Drop this thing on concrete and you're looking at a repair bill that costs more than most people's monthly car payment.
Insurance is basically mandatory, which means your "premium" device comes with a premium subscription just to exist.
The folding glass is softer than a toddler's feelings, so enjoy that screen protector peeling off within a week.
Early adopters with more money than sense, tech YouTubers who need content, and that one guy in your office who insists on unfolding his phone during meetings to assert dominance.
For everyone else, it's a solution in search of a problem. **The Verdict:** It's a cool party trick wrapped in a fragile, expensive package that'll be obsolete in eight months when the next one drops.
If you've got cash to burn and a deep need to feel like you're living in the future, knock yourself out.
Everyone else should buy a normal phone and a nice lunch with the difference.
Final Thoughts
The crease will still be there next year, and so will your regret.