The Internet blows
Had a discussion with a guy at work about "how things are now" and we both agreed the internet has ruined everything. Maybe a little dramatic, but consider what it is doing to our lives.
Nothing is exciting anymore. There is no suspense and everything you want to know or see is a mere click away. Want to know what John Mark Karr had for lunch today? Check the blogs. Want to know how many bottles of Head and Shoulders Proctor and Gamble sells? Do a search. Want to see a picture of your neighbor having sex? It's either there or will be soon.
The thing I loathe is that everyone is a fucking expert these days. And it's all "headline knowledge." Everyone knows just enough to be both dangerous and boring in the same breath.
"Oh, what you have is a sprained mucocusolous nerve in your bling blang. Yeah, those can be crippling, read it on Yahoo! the other day."
You prick! I don't need your boxer short observation of the world or my sprained mucocusolous nerve.
I work in news and the whole industry is an oxymoron because nothing is new. "Hey'd you hear about that plane crash that started an earthquake and burned down an entire village of Africa and interrupted Madonna's effort to adopt an orphan from Sudan?"
Oh, yeah, read that twenty minutes ago on earthquakeadoption.com.
Never before have so many people known so much, yet known so little. That's why I rarely say anything because it is typically met with, "yeah, but blah blah, this is how it really is..." Oh yeah? Well go fuck yourself and your RSS feeds.
Now, I'm not really that bitter, but there is always truth in a good rant and I think it's time we did two things:
- One, give up the internet for one day a week. (My fingers shake as I type this).
- Two, don't drive for one day a week and give the oil companies something to think about.
Immediacy blows and I am contemplating whether or not to post this blog at all because when I do everyone in the world will share it with everyone they know and not even this will be unique.
I should make the world sweat a little. Tease them by putting this entire entry in "draft mode." Saving it and reading it myself whenever I feel the urge to know something that no one else in the world knows besides me. But then again, it's not even posted yet and I have a feeling that some of you have already read it. Just the mere idea that I am typing this blog is probably known by someone, somewhere in the world.
We're screwed. Big Brother is us.
Another ridiculous event
Some of you may have read about my ankle problems a few days ago. I was concerned enough to make a doctor's appointment to make sure it wasn't serious. Strangely enough, however, I wore a brace and an arch support deal over the weekend and feel like I am back to full strength. But, there was "just enough doubt" in my mind to follow through with the doctor.
I'm should have canceled the appointment. I don't really like going to doctors and haven't been to one since I broke my finger 7 years ago and the surgeon promptly fucked up the operation.
The only doctors I'm remotely interested in are psychologists - mainly because I like the idea of getting into twisted discussions. I usually just rough it when I'm sick or adjust my diet and battle through. It's too easy to start popping pills and I've seen several relatives get sucked into "pill-box-hell."
Anyway, back to the foot doctor. First of all I felt like an idiot strolling in there without a noticeable limp, so I faked it a little as I approached the "new patient forms" on the counter. I filled it out with buyer's remorse and waited for my new doctor. And waited. And waited. And waited.
He finally got to me about an hour later, but not before I noticed a sign next to my waiting recliner. It said:
AS A COURTESY TO THIS OFFICE PLEASE REFRAIN FROM USING CELL PHONES WHILE THE DOCTOR IS IN THE ROOM WITH YOU.
Well, there are several things wrong with this sign (and yes it was in all caps) but after reading it I was quite certain I was about to meet a quack.
The first thing I did was pull out my cell phone to blatently insult "this office" (even though the doctor wasn't in it yet). I chuckled and checked my messages on my one phone. If I would have had cell "phones" I would have used them both.
My instincts were correct. The doc seemed like a nice enough man, but he was so obviously bitter that I found it comical. On more than one occasion he started ranting against his competitors and other doctors only to recoil and say, "I don't mean to talk badly about them, it's just that, oh, we won't get into it." What made it even more ridiculous was that he was trying to sell me $400 arch supports and felt compelled to talk me out of shopping around with "unethical" doctors who habitually recommend surgery (sometimes even scheduling appointment without your permission).
Well, needless to say, after about 15 minutes of his squabbling, I excused myself and suggested I'd "think about" the orthopedics.
Seriously, what is this life all about? I have got to find a new hobby.
True story of idiocy
True story of idiocy
I rarely shop at Wal*Mart, but for the last few weeks I have had reoccuring thoughts about something that I need to purchase at that wasteland. The item was one of those things that just screams, Wal*Mart will have it at a good price. But for the last few weekends I have forgotten to go there and get said item. So, today, I woke up and one of the first things I thought was that I needed to go to Wal*Mart. The problem was -for the life of me, I couldn't remember what I needed to buy there.
Being the logical thinker that I am, I hopped in my car and drove to Wal*Mart thinking that by the time I got there I would remember what I was going there to buy. Unfortunately that didn't happen. So, I'm sitting in the parking lot, racking my brain over what I need so badly from this American institution. Couldn't remember. So, I brazenly walked into the store, graciously accepted a cart from the little old lady and decided I would walk around until something I saw reminded me of what I was there to purchase.
The first thing I threw in my cart was a bag of carrots. (This is another issue I clearly need to take up with my therapist.) Then some celery, and the usual vegetable scores. I always buy this stuff and it ends up going to waste 90% of the time. Wishful thinking, I suppose. Much like my quest to remember the "lost item" in my brain.
Well, after about two aisles worth of "post-church-goer-overload" I decided to give up on my search. I realized (for about the 20th time in my life) that I can't deal with being inside a Wal*Mart and suddenly needed fresh air. (I don't even think the anti-oxident burst from a carrot would have helped). I contemplated leaving my sparsley-filled cart in the home furnishings and making a run for it, but a bottle of Coke - near the check-out girl with the blue smock - caught my eye. I roughed out the line to get one.
Basically, I went all the fucking way out to Wal*Mart to buy a Coke and carrots. Now, I'm no psychologist, but I'm quite sure that even the clinically trained would ruffle a brow at that story.
