My wife and I have perfected the art of screaming at the TV while Google runs a new series of ads promoting something called Google Play. The ads seem tailor made for millennials, those wacky creatures with birthdays in early 1980s to the early 2000s.
Google loves millennials. Also grandmothers using AOL on Windows 95 who only know how to open emailed photos of grandchildren and stalk the entire family on Facebook. But it’s mostly the millennials.
Millennials are the people in your neighborhood who get run over by cars while texting, fall down open manholes when walking down a sidewalk while texting, running over other people while driving and texting, listening to lectures in college and texting, working mundane jobs and texting, and, if the rumors are true, even use their internet-powered smartphones while sitting on the toilet.
Whatever Google poops out millennials soak up like a sponge. How about Google in your wristwatch like George Jetson? Yes, please! How about Google in a computer you strap to your face? I’ll look so cool! How about Google you wear in a ring on your finger? Yes, I do.
These are people living enhanced reality sorts of lives. Why just look at a boring street when you can wear goggles that superimpose text (in the font of your choice) and describe what’s in view so you won’t have to hurt your brain? And it’s free, not counting the 20% of display real estate devoted to blinking advertisements.
Speaking of which, the ad campaign for Google Play is promoting the ability to watch Hollywood blockbuster movies like “Yankee! Look at me! I am the Captain now!”
Of course, with Google involved, it doesn’t quite stop there. In Google’s opinion, while watching the movie, you should be multitasking. Perhaps using some Google Docs to manage your money. Manage tomorrow’s expenditures and consumption. Let’s devote about 20% of the display to that.
Google is known for search (an admittedly archaic service they continue to offer for nostalgic reasons) so of course they recommend that while enjoying movies. In the commercial the clever viewer realizes, “Holy shit! That’s Tom Hanks. Click pause. Let’s google that sum bitch. I bet this isn’t his first movie. What else has this guy been in?”
With proper utilization of the myriad of services offered by Google, it’s possible to give less and less screen to the movie itself. If done properly, the movie can be shrunk to the size of a single twinkling pixel, much like a real star in Google NightSky.
Of course, at that size, the only part of the movie that can actually be enjoyed is the audio, and that is easily overwritten by Google Radio.
A good movie prompts a feeling of suspension of disbelief. It takes you out of the moment. Google doesn’t like people who are present in the moment. That’s why they launched Google Omnipresent Stimuli. Movies should never get your full attention. They should just be a tiny slice of the stimuli spectrum. With advertising, of course.
“Yankee! Look at Google! They are the Captain now.”
Some random thoughts:
- Regarding Survivor – Nicaragua: Did you see NaOnka’s eyebrows on the reunion show? They are the most incontrovertible proof I’ve seen to date that God doesn’t exist!
- On the job fun: Being reminded by the boss about something trivial that I haven’t missed a single time since originally trained yet being left completely in the dark regarding super-critical information required to do my job while he’s on vacation. Then being “corrected” on the thing I was never told about in the first place. Argh!
- Teamworking: My co-worker discovered an error in a shipment we received. She brought the error to me and said, “You’ll need to write an email to the boss about this” and proceeded to explain the whole scenario. I then asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier if you wrote the email since you’re the one who already knows about it rather than explaining it to me so I can tell him the information second hand?” She has this habit of pushing all of her unfinished tasks on me and I’m a little fed up with it. For example, she takes calls from customers with questions. She writes it all down, brings it to me, and says, “You’ll need to call this guy back.” WTF? Of course, she was offended with my question. “I was just trying to work together as a team,” she pouted. What a load of guilt trip! “I’ll just write him the email myself,” she moaned. Geeez!
Have a great day, everyone.
Before we begin, I have to ask: How do you think my headline writing skills are coming along? 🙂
I have no issues with golf, other than it’s boring and it’s a sport. (More on the latter coming soon.)
So today we have a news report regarding two douchebags (golfer Corey Pavin and reporter Jim Gray) arguing about a third douchebag (whoring phenom Tiger Woods). And, get this, their fight is about a fucking game. Not just any game but one where you hit a little ball with a stick and try to get that ball into a little hole.
Pay attention! We’re talking about important shit here, people!
Seriously I don’t know if any of them are douchebags. I don’t know these men personally. I’m taking a little artistic license here based solely on behavior. They all just might be wonderful human beings. (Somehow I doubt it.)
So which one is the liar? Without being there it’s hard to say. It’s one of those douche-said douche-said type of situations.
That’s pretty much all I have to say about this topic. Read the link to the story if you still crave additional details. As always I’m simply performing my function of providing a breath of fresh aire and giving important news items of the day much needed context.