What Googling Can Do for You
Despite recent claims to the contrary on other blogs (which shall here remain nameless), Googling prospective dates/mates/hates can result in a positive learning experience. As is usual with Google, what one begins searching for is soon replaced by a succession of other fascinating search and retrieval options. It's a bit like looking up words in the dictionary - or in my case, names in the phone book. (Remember, I am 78% nerd.) It's all about serendipity and the wonder of discovery; this is the beauty of randomized online research and internet stalking.
For instance, on a recent Google quest for some crucial sociological data, I inadvertently learned that the January, 1992 issue of Playboy featured a groundbreaking interview with the amazing comic genius Robin Williams, and that Woody Harrelson was the designated "stud man" of this memorable decade. Who knew?
More important than Google's function in the acquisition of cultural literacy is, perhaps, the power of Google to facilitate self-knowledge. In a recent session I learned that
* In 2004, my father (deceased since 1983) and his bookstore were the hapless victims of real estate fraud in Denver, CO.
* My mother is a minister of the United church of Religious Science in Vero Beach, FL.
* The last person I slept with is, in fact, not an indigent, über-Jewish, and neurotic UES playwright, but a successful Los Angeles screenwriter who freelances for the National Review. (I knew he was "a registered Republican," but this goes too far.)
* The first person I slept with is not a depressed Mexican-American office lackey with a Chevy Vega, once convicted for embezzlement and who never left my hometown, but a friendly, socially-adjusted photographer who occasionally teaches how-to workshops at the Timonium, MD branch of REI.
Thus, according to Google, I am likely a bookish, theistically-inclined, open-minded, trusting (and somewhat gullible) woman with a fondness for photography and a tendency to choose unsuitable bedmates ... Hello?!
For instance, on a recent Google quest for some crucial sociological data, I inadvertently learned that the January, 1992 issue of Playboy featured a groundbreaking interview with the amazing comic genius Robin Williams, and that Woody Harrelson was the designated "stud man" of this memorable decade. Who knew?
More important than Google's function in the acquisition of cultural literacy is, perhaps, the power of Google to facilitate self-knowledge. In a recent session I learned that
* In 2004, my father (deceased since 1983) and his bookstore were the hapless victims of real estate fraud in Denver, CO.
* My mother is a minister of the United church of Religious Science in Vero Beach, FL.
* The last person I slept with is, in fact, not an indigent, über-Jewish, and neurotic UES playwright, but a successful Los Angeles screenwriter who freelances for the National Review. (I knew he was "a registered Republican," but this goes too far.)
* The first person I slept with is not a depressed Mexican-American office lackey with a Chevy Vega, once convicted for embezzlement and who never left my hometown, but a friendly, socially-adjusted photographer who occasionally teaches how-to workshops at the Timonium, MD branch of REI.
Thus, according to Google, I am likely a bookish, theistically-inclined, open-minded, trusting (and somewhat gullible) woman with a fondness for photography and a tendency to choose unsuitable bedmates ... Hello?!
posted at 5:02 PM
2 comments
Until recently, I've refused to flaunt my "checkered past" too frequently. Like many of you, I consider porn a controversial subject: best brought up on a first date, rather than in a blog or via email. But the invasive power of Internet2, and my ever-mounting blog-sponsobilities on Internet1, have finally put an end to all efforts at modesty.
