Though we’ve joked about it again and again, today marks a true threshold-crossing, of sorts.
This morning, while gathering some personal props for tonight’s 42nd Street gig, I noticed that one—a black, knit cap—was missing, and I had absolutely no idea where it was. That’s when my brain tried to Google it.
The instinctive, millisecond thought-sequence was as follows:
1) Need to find Knit Cap.
2) Where is Knit Cap?
3) Google +“Knit Cap” Location
4) Your search - +“Knit Cap” Location - did not match any documents.
Suggestions:
- Make sure all words are spelled correctly.
- Try different keywords.
- Try a method more applicable to reality.
Now I'm sure all you hardcore computer programmers out there experience this sort of thing all the time. And I admit, the idea isn't startling new.
When I mess up writing on a piece of paper, a quick “Ctrl-Z” often flashes through my mind, a string of curses in tow. And I remember a Psych Professor who said that when he’d suddenly think of the perfect phrasing for a sentence he’d been working on, he’d feel this weird tingling in the pinky and middle finger of his left hand (the fingers he'd use to press “Ctrl” and “S”).
Still, this particular experience felt a little more ominous than the others. Like I’d somehow lost.
And with that in mind, we might as well just make it official:
Congratulations, Google. You win. I surrender. If you’re looking for human subjects to "enhance" with those controversial brain search chips I'm sure you're working on, feel free to e-mail me. My address is cprincipe@...sigh...gmail.com.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
I Surrender, Benevolent Master
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4 comments:
If that psych professor was Professor Maas, he probably felt that way because he was fingerbanging you.
Oh yeah! Topical joke at Cornell University in 1996. Uh-huh. Oh yeah. I still got it!
That reminds me of when I had to go pick up my car from the auto-mechanic's place. No one was around to drive me so I actually had to WALK. Hadn't done that in a long time. (Yes I live in the suburbs) A couple of blocks into my journey I heard a sound in back of me. Survival instincts tell me I must find out if this is a threat to my person. What do I do? No I do not TURN AROUND to see what it is. I look a little down and to my left to ascertain the source of this potential threat. Why there? Well think about it. That's where the sideview mirror should be if I hadn't been forced into this most unnatural activity of walking.
Mark this one down as Dad Story #2 - although not via Geoff this time.
Keyboard shortcuts are great, better than sex really. Too bad I don't know how to use F1-F12.
It's hard enough to F-1. But F-12 requires far more alcohol, drugs and money to pursuade all of the groupies to show up.
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