Tuesday, March 13, 2007
 
Vietnamese Hookers
First of all, I'd like to ask you all a question. If you had to guess, what would you surmise is the top search result on Dutch Google for the string puma spackle martial arts? Jean-Claude Van Damme's Drywall Repair & Big Cat Predator Boarding Co.? No, sir! It's this guy! Nearly three years in to this blog thing and I continue to achieve. Way to go, me.

As search-strings go, "puma spackle martial arts" is pretty good. But is it the best ever? Is it objectively better than Paul Begala karate? Or chloroform white slavery? Or arsenio monologue hamburger?

And hmm, I know you're dying to find out, what sort of criteria makes a search string "best"? Is it the context-free non sequitur absurdity of the above choices? Or maybe it's the robust, reliable staying power of the regular strings that find me like "Brad Pitt's dick" or "Vietnamese hookers" or (frighteningly) "reasons not to kill myself".

Which is the best search string seems like an insignificant question I guess, but remember: we are Americans. We fought and died against the likes of King George III in the War of 1812 specifically to secure for ourselves the right to wallow in pop-culture minutiae and base triviality. George III was totally against that. But he was also known to hold long conversations with oak trees, run naked through public functions and piss blue. Dude was fucking crazy.

We are not crazy. We are Americans. We are sane; sane like a fox! Every year maybe we get the "March Madness" but we get it winkingly, knowingly, much in the same way "student-athletes" get homework, with no expectation of actual commitment to the idea. We're all crazy this time of year the same way we're all Irish on St. Paddy's Day and then we're all magically Mexican six weeks later on Cinco de Mayo. Like most things, we do it for the discount alcohol.

But then there are some out there among us who take a perfectly good totally useless idea like the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament and find a way to make it even less consequential.

That is how you get things like this new book The Enlightened Bracketologist: The Final Four of Everything which purports to boil any discussion down to a branching series of single-event single-elimination competitions, steadily whittling itself down until there is but one winner.

Best Movie Death! Best Marital Argument!

Ah, useless quantification of inscrutably subjective things. It's the American genius. I guess we'd be better off if the "American genius" were something like resource consumption efficiency, but look, who do you want to be? Us or the Native Americans? They had uses for all the parts of the buffalo. Big whoop. Look where they are now: operating casinos in a legal gray-area, raking in money hand-over-fist in the billions of dollars.

OK, bad example. But we make lists! Of stuff that can't be listed! If we didn't, would Entertainment Weekly even exist? I think it would not. Every line of every issue can't be about Britney Spears. Although God knows they try.

And in case you were curious which would win in my Best Bucket Google Search String, well, I think the answer has to be "Brad Pitt's dick". You can't argue with volume. From a numbers standpoint in terms of visitors mistakenly directed here, "Brad Pitt's dick" is HUGE.



This post on the Narcissus Scale: 10.0



Pops



PS- UCR vs. Arizona State. Yeah, it's chicky-ball, but it's OUR chicky-ball. And a 14 seed! And it's just down the freeway at USC's Galen Center! I'm not going. But still!

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