Look, it’s not like I have a problem with Google. I keep hating on the galaxy-sized faceless soulless vat-grown bot-controlled terrifying Megacorporation of Doom only because I love them so much.
But I do find it ever-so-slightly creepy that the Monsters of Mountain View KNOW I’ve been watching Season 1 of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles this week.
How did Google find out what I’m watching on TV? Surely not by sending a little person to crouch on my fire escape jotting notes on a steno pad every time someone says “Come with me if you want to live,” which is how I’d do it. Google probably does it the old-fashioned way — by remotely activating my webcam, like a high school teacher.
Anyway, knowing that this is Terminator week at Casa Roche, Google delivered the personalized cloud computing it’s decided we’ve been looking for (but just didn’t know it yet) since the first time Harlan Ellison had no mouth and had to scream with two fingers on a manual Olivetti at 120 words a minute (poor bastard). They know I’ve been thinking to myself, “Okay, so machines are evil — but that Summer Glau chick. She‘s not evil…right?”
Ask, and you shall receive! Google delivered a fire-and-brimstone sermon to me about the dangers of letting your machines get too smart; said sermon wore a name badge proclaiming in dot-matrix letters: “HI! MY NAME IS GOOGLE INSTANT.”
That’s right. If you’ve been meaning to Google something, anything — you’re not sure what, but you’ll get to it, you guess, sooner or later — but you’re not so sure about the whole complicated pressing return at the end thing — what an ordeal! — you can finally liberate your creative impulse, leaving your pinky finger up your butt where it belongs.