I'm really fascinated by the affect the internet has on social interaction.
Okay, that's probably a pretty boring way to start off a blog. I should probably start off by saying "Jenna Jameson naked pictures" or "Sarah Palin Girls Gone Wild video" or something.
Anyway, I'm sure you've all heard of Wikipedia. It's an website billed as "the on-line encyclopedia that anyone can edit."
And that's the problem, but more on that later.
I discovered Wikipedia a few years ago, corrected some wrong information on some article, and soon became a regular contributor. By "contributor," I didn't do a whole lot that was constructive on Wikipedia, I just kind of hung out and watched what other people did. I helped write some articles on things I knew a lot about and I did a lot of "vandal fighting."
That's something that's rampant on wikipedia. Since anyone can edit it, anyone can mess with it, which means when some junior high kid added "Poop!" to an article, I took it out. If I saw somebody on a high school's page adding alumni like "Big Rod Johnson" to the list of names, I deleted it. I wasn't exactly defending the castle, if you know what I'm saying. As David Lee Roth says, it ain't rocket surgery.
It's not the article pages that are worth watching, it's the shouting matches and edit wars that go on over trivial details that become unintentionally hilarious "Springer" moments.
Wikipedia quickly becomes a big timesink, with so much effort put into keeping the word "poop" off of pages that actual information kind of falls by the wayside. I've probably flushed enough time down there to finish two novels and a short story, and all I have to show for it is an epitaph that'll read "Here Lies Reid...He Kept 'Poop' Off of Jennifer Love Hewitt's Internet Biography'."
However, there's something even weirder. There's a site called Wikipedia Review, which appears to be composed of current and former Wikipedia editors who spend all day making fun of other Wikipedia editors.
People who donate their time to an online encyclopedia are accused of having no lives by people who contribute their time to an online forum dedicated to cataloging the wasted time spent on the encyclopedia.
I wonder if somewhere there's a Wikipedia Review Critique, which makes fun of the people making fun of Wikipedia.
Just got back from Target, where I found that rulers were on clearance.
Okay, if something's on clearance, either they're not going to sell them anymore, or they're getting rid of something for the next generation of the product.
Well, I seriously doubt they're selling out of the 2009 models and clearing the shelves for the new 2010 rulers. I don't think the next generation of rulers will come with MP3 players, or digital compasses.
That leaves just a general clearance of a product no one needs anymore.
Really? Are we just deciding that never again will we need to know how long anything is? Is that one of those things like phone books and newspapers that have just gone away for good?
Apparently in the future, we'll all be able to measure things with our iPhones.
Forgive my vulgarity, dear readers, but I am now officially done with the Bell. Oh, I've enjoyed their semi-seasoned tasteless versions of Mexican foods available to everyone who can scrape together a dollar, but now I'm done.
I went through the drive-through last night and bought a late dinner for two, and in spite of repeating the order twice, they still managed to get every single one of my items wrong.
Yep. I'm not talking about a small error, like forgetting an item, or saying "stalactite" when you really meant "stalagmite." Each and every one of the items I was counting on for my dinner were incorrect.
I'll be honest, I know these fast food places aren't staffed by future ambassadors and patent holders. That's one of the things that bothers me so much about this problem. When I order my Taco Bell food, I usually get it without veggies.
It's not like the tacos are already put together, when you order, they have to make it on the taco assembly line. All I'm asking these quasi-sentient sloths to do is to not put their freakin' hand in the lettuce and drop it into my taco shell.
That's all. Just don't put lettuce on it. Be lazy. Take a few seconds off. Don't do everything you usually do. Don't put your hand in the lettuce. That's all. I'll be happy with meat and cheese, and you can go back to pretending to take the trash out and just getting high behind the dumpster.
I called and asked to speak to the manager, which resulted in me having this conversation with a troglodyte named "Mark," or "Bart," or some other monosyllabic name he mumbled when he realized I was a disgruntled attempted Taco Bell consumer.
Reid: I just went through your drive-through and ordered, and you got all of my order incorrect. Taco Bell Taco Engineer: Oh, sorry sir. Reid: You don't sound sorry. Taco Engineer: Oh, sorry sir. Reid: Anyway, I want my money back. Taco Engineer: You can come back, or we can take your name and make it up to you later. Reid: I don't want to do that. I want my transaction reversed. Taco Engineer: Oh. So you want us to take down your name? Reid: No. I didn't pay thirteen dollars to buy tacos next week sometime, I wanted them for dinner tonight. I paid with my debit card, I want the transaction reversed and refunded. Taco Engineer: Oh. We can do that, if you have your receipt and credit card receipt. (hangs up)
After staring at my phone for a solid minute muttering "He hung up on me. I can't believe that son-of-a...", I called the home office, that 1-800-TACO-BELL number that nobody ever answers. Of course, nobody answered.
"We're Open Late At The Bell! And Employing Simpletons! Good Luck!"
New column up on the NFL preseason games, and how they're the McDonalds McRib of pro sports.
Like an oft-concussed wide receiver, every year I forget exactly what's going on. Every summer I can't wait for football season to start, and every year, I eagerly sit down to watch the first preseason games with all the passion of teenage love.
And then I get the McRib moment.
Check out the whole article, chock full of random pop culture referencs, at my Examiner.com page.
Yes, I watch a lot of TV. I'm well aware, and that's why I'm a TV writer, and not a writer of columns about politics, calculus, or eating anything that's not meat and potatoes.
Big Brother gave us a real Terence and Philip moment this week, which is what I call it when we get the extremely disappointing sidestep of an intended plotline payoff.
Once upon a time, "South Park" once gave us a two-part episode that promised a revelation of the identity of Cartman's mother. Instead, Trey Parker and Matt Stone gave us an April Fool's Day episode that was a full-length Terence and Phillip cartoon, and made us wait another week for the payoff.
So for example, when "Lost" ends with a big revelation, shocking moment, or cliffhanger, and I tune into the next show only to find it focuses entirely on some completely unrelated character and doesn't even mention it, I know I've had a T&P Moment. If I'm watching "The Sopranos," and we go from a shooting that leaves a character at the brink of death, and the next episode is an obvious dream sequence that makes no sense and adds nothing to the story, I've had a T&P Moment.
Aries: You will become acquainted with a handsome stranger on a long journey. However, he will take you as a hostage, so dress comfortably.
Taurus: Your moon is in the seventh house, but your husband is in the neighbor's bedroom. Call an attorney.
Gemini: Self-examination is the key to growth. You will come to the realization most of the people in your "Friends & Family" plan don't like you. Cancer:
Leo: Communication is very important. Spend the day creating your own language.
Virgo: Beware the man who smells like ham.
Libra: Your lifeline appears to dead end into a large tree. Perhaps you should walk to work.
Scorpio: Your financial future seems bleak. Withdraw your money from the stock market and invest heavily in "McRibs."
Sagittarius: You will have the kind of day that would scare the crap out of Stephen King.
Capricorn: The future is hazy. It seems like a penguin will steal your wallet on a crosstown bus, but that might be a celestial typo.
Aquarius: The universe is unusually specific. Tina Yothers will attempt to murder you with a waffle iron.
Pisces: Check your pockets for fried chicken before leaving for work, and beware of any detour that takes you near the dog pound.
I was out doing some shopping yesterday, and I stopped in the bathroom at one of the stores. When I walked in one of the stalls, I realized it was only about as wide as my shoulders. The door latch didn't fit and wouldn't fasten, and when I bumped the toilet paper hoder, the entire mechanism fell off onto the floor.
As I was fleeing the hamper-sized stall, I stopped to wash my hands. The automatic water worked only long enough for me to get my hands soapy, then would not engage again, leaving me waving my hands frantically like I was directing a plane on to the runway. I turned to leave, only to find the automatic hand dryer was set at an angle that required me to bump my hands on the wall to get it to turn on.
And where was I, experiencing this modern marvel of short-sighted planning and inconvenient toiletry?
Lowe's.
Let's build something together, Lowe's. Let's start with an outhouse for practice, and once we've got the plans together we can try and move it inside.
Yep, learn the language. Then learn how to spell the word "exceptions" and you can get a job proofreading city signs.
According to Wikipedia, Crestwood is already 92% white. What language could they possibly be worried about gaining a foothold in their village? Are the youngsters starting to proposition each other in Aramaic? Has Klingon been making inroads ever since that last Star Trek movie?
Perhaps Mayor Stranczek is distraught because he heard some teenagers speaking in that Snoop Dogg "-izzle" dialect a few years ago, and they're just now getting around to posting a sign.
The channel programming bleed-through has hit new highs, folks.
I stood by when Arts & Entertainment began ignoring the "Arts" portion of their name, and filled out what used to be a high-class lineup with CSI reruns and reality shows. Everybody needs entertainment.
Then, American Movie Classics began to mangle the designation "Classics," apparently so they could show "Road House" every 48 hours. That's okay, I get it. "Classic" is a rather malleable classification.
Now, I think they've gone too far.
Tonight, The Travel Channel showed "National Lampoon's Vacation."
I spent Saturday looking into getting an iPhone for Lovely Wife Kimberly. Our first stop was the local AT&T store, which I quickly found out wasn't an actual AT&T store, merely a store with an awning, an AT&T logo, and a liscence to disappoint.
I asked the semi-authorized AT&T store clerk about upgrading to an iPhone, and he responded that they didn't carry the iPhone. They didn't have it, wouldn't carry it, and couldn't help me get one.
If you can't sell the number one thing that people are wanting, why bother being open? When I go to Best Buy and look at computers, they don't refuse to stock PCs and Windows in favor of Commodore 64s.
That's like a potato chip store that doesn't sell Lays.
"Uh, no Lays, ma'am, we don't have the rights to sell those. We've got Munchos, though..."
UPDATE: It's been brought to my attention that some people don't know what Munchos are. According to wikipedia, Munchos are only available in the South. Weird. For those of you who don't know, they're a semi-edible, crunchy to the point of disgust potato chip that I've been seeing on store shelves for my entire life, yet rarely seen eaten.
I'm really fascinated by the affect the internet has on social interaction.
