The Useless Web: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Posted on February 21, 2013 by The Old Wolf

First, we’ll start off with the bad. That’s simply when you go to a page you thought would contain the content you were looking for, and all you get is this:

Of course, many websites (such as Livejournal in this case) have very creative 404 pages, which tends to reduce the sting a little bit.

Then, there’s the Ugly. These are data aggregators which are designed by black-hat SEO types; their only purpose is to get you to click on links for which they will be paid. For example, this morning I was looking for a reference to the “smiler“, an alternative punctuation mark which I first heard about in the early 60’s, about the same time as I learned of the interrobang. The “smiler” looked like this: ‿ and was designed to function as an irony mark, this long before the invention of the emoticon. Unfortunately, the preponderance of the latter, combined with the ubiquitous “smiley face,” has all but buried any possible reference to the mark I was looking for, and indeed it might have had a different name.

At any rate, I Googled for “alternative punctuation,” and the first hit on the list was this:

This, children, is called “spamdexing.” The Wikipedia article referenced above also calls it “search engine poisoning,” and that’s about as accurate as you could want. I left a comment on their website, to wit:

“Here is a perfect example of one of the worst evils of the Internet – aggregators that offer nothing but hqiz , and pollute valid search results. This page has virtually zero to do with alternate punctuation (for example, the interrobang) and instead plugs in an SEO search phrase plus reams of unrelated camel ejecta. Thank you very little.”

Unfortunately, the web is full of this sort of douchebaggery; even “more legitimate” information aggregators such as Ask, FixYa, or Yahoo Answers tend to be full of sound and fury but signify nothing. For a diligent web searcher, it means “looking for the ruby underneath the rot,”^[1] shoveling through the horse manure to find the pony, processing 10 tons of ore for one ounce of platinum.

Lastly, there’s what I consider the Good. This kind of website can be found at The Useless Web, an aggregator of totally useless but often downright amusing or intriguing single-service web pages written by everyone under the sun. More fun to waste your time with than watching the bread rise. An example of one which made me laugh is here. You can thank me later.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

[1] Life Is, Kander and Ebb, from “Zorba.”

“After reading this blog, you’ll think Shakespeare was a penny dreadful hack!”

Posted on February 21, 2013 by The Old Wolf

Yup, that’s a “blurb”. We see them everywhere, but tend to notice them most on movie advertisements. We ignore them or laugh at them, but for better or for worse they influence our consumption habits.

Seeing the blurb on this dime store pulp made me chuckle – “damned with faint praise” is the first thing that came to mind. You’d think they might have come up with something a bit more riveting, but what it shows is the absolute necessity in some editor’s mind that a blurb – any blurb – must grace the cover.

The word “blurb” itself was coined by American humorist Gelett Burgess, author of Goops and How to Be Them (you can see a sample here.)

Burgess handed out a limited run of his book Are You a Bromide? to a trade organization dinner, and the dust jacket included this image:

Blurbs are everywhere, and well-known authors are often solicited for blurbs about other books. The New York Times published “Riveting!’: The Quandary of the Book Blurb,” a series of essays on blurbing including a piece by Stephen King; the upshot is that blurbs are a necessary evil, but they can have a certain value. On the other hand, however, sometimes the writers should probably have stayed in bed.

In their famous parody Bored of the Rings, Harvard Lampoon lost no opportunity to make fun of blurbs themselves, publishing this page of blurbs in the front of their book:

“Much have I travelled in the realms of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen; round many western islands have I been, which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told, which deep browed Homer ruled as his demesne. Yet never did I breathe its pure serene, till I heard Bored of the Rings speak out loud and bold!…”
JOHN KEATS, Manchester Nightingale

“This book… tremor… Manichean guilt… existential… pleonastic… redundancy…”
ORLANDO DI BISCUIT, Hobnob

“A slightly more liberal reading of the leash-laws would keep books like this off the stands. I don’t know how you’ll fare, but my copy insists on long walks around suppertime, bays at the moon, and has spoiled every sofa cushion in the place,”
WILMOT PROVISO, The Rocky Mountain Literary Round-Up

“0ne of the two or three books…”
FRANK O’PRUSSIA, Dublin Gazette

“Truly a tale for our times … as we hang suspended over the brink on a Ring of our own, threatened by dragons and other evil people, and, like Frito and Goodgulf, fighting a cruel Enemy who will stop at nothing to get his way,”
ANN ALAGGI, The Old Flag

“Extremely interesting from almost every point of view.”
PROFESSOR HAWLEY SMOOT, Oer Loosely Enforced Libel Law!

Scott Adams, author of Dilbert, sponsored a reader contest to provide a blurb for his book Stick to Drawing Comics, Monkey Brain!; the grand prize winner was Nicolas Feia who came up with this gem:

“‘What a perfect companion for my afternoon milk bath,” I thought while picking up this little gem on my way home from work. Within the hour I had laughed myself into a neck-deep tomb of butter. My wife came in, sipping her eggnog, and topped me with meringue.”

The others, however, are good for a laugh as well.

Anyway,

“Keep reading this blog and you’ll soon see that Mark Twain has met his match!”
SIMPLOT Q. ANALEMMA, On the Rising Value of Badgers, Mushrooms and Snakes in the Modern Commodity Market

The Old Wolf has spoken.

Le big flap over franglais (ca. 1974)

Posted on February 16, 2013 by The Old Wolf

Extracted from a Life magazine comment column. Given Pompidou’s term of office, this would have been pre-1974.

Le big flap over franglais

The French worry about three things: their food, their livers and their language. The current language flap–there’s always a current language flap–is (as usual since World War II) about the creeping Americanization of the mother tongue. This has resulted in the hybrid speech the French call franglais. Early this year President Pompidou, seeking “a way for us to distinguish ourselves from the U.S.,” authorized a slew of committees to draw up a master list of government-approved Americanisms. Unapproved words are henceforth forbidden to any government official in any decree, circular, instruction, letter or other document, including a lunch order for un sandwich. The decree contained not one word of franglais, which was what we Americans call a tour de force.

In Paris recently, curious to see how the Battle of Franglais was going outside the government, I called my friends the Duponts (the Bridges).

“Come at l’heure du cocktail (cocktail time),” they told me. “We can’t go out. It’s hard to find un babysitter. ”

“Fine,” I said. “O.K.,” they said.

Passing a café (French) where the customers were crowded around les flippers (the pinball machines), I reached their home in un building (apartment house) de grand standing (not a tall but a luxury building). Le building was between un drugstore (oriental bazaar more than a drugstore) and un pressing (the cleaners). Nearby, les bulldozers were tearing up the street for un parking (parking lot).

I rang the bell. My friend Brigitte greeted me in un teeshirt, un sweater and un blue-jean.

“It’s le style hippie,” she said.

stepped into le hall, which led into le living (specifically, a living room and dining area combined), which led into une kitchenette. There was also a bedroom. Sounds of le rock were emanating from le pick-up (phonograph). There were some glasses on le bar and un shaker. Brigitte was working on a photo album.

“Passez-moi le Scotch,” she asked. I passed her a bottle and a glass. “Non, non, ma chere. Le Scotch Tape. That’s le whiskey (Scotch).”

Her husband, un reporter for a French paper, arrived and took off son duffel-coat. He greeted me with un shake-hand. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, “but I was delayed by un flash (urgent bulletin). Then my car wouldn’t work properly. Trouble with le starter (the choke). Tomorrow I’m to do une interview of une cover girl (model) who has beaucoup de sex-appeal.”

A few friends dropped by.

“Have you read le best seller, Love Story?” one asked, conversationally.

“It was also a best seller in the U.S.,” I pointed out. “Actually, I’m a fan of French cuisine.”

“It’s terrible,” said the Frenchman. “I hardly had time for un sandwich for le lunch. Le snack bar and le self-service (cafeteria) were both crowded. And so expensive. Un vrai hold-up (what a gyp)! I would have preferred un bifteck et des frites (beefsteak and French fries) or du rosbif (roast beef). I had only des toasts for breakfast.”

“I am in les public relations for la Générale Motors,” said one of the guests. “Part of le management. I used to be in le marketing but I would have preferred un job in l’engineering.”

“What do you do in your spare time?” I asked, sinking fast.

“J’adore faire du shopping for les gadgets. It’s really mon hobby.”

Another guest volunteered that he liked sports. “Le week-end, then I have time to watch un match de foot. I like le golf and le basket (basketball), but especially le foot (football, that is, soccer in France). Some players really know how to shoot (kick) the ball. It’s not du bluff. Occasionally, I like un cinema underground (avant-garde movie).”

“Enjoy a vacation lately?” I stammered.

“Skiing is impossible at this time of year,” he said, sipping his drink. “Too many people waiting to go up les skilifts. Then in the evening if you enjoy le dancing, you’re too tired to ski.”

Feeling dazed, I left à l‘anglaise, which to a Frenchman means to take English leave but which in English means to take French leave.

by Marie-Claude Wrenn

Ms. Wrenn is une free-lance of French extraction.

Le vieux loup à parlé (in some language or other).

Learn a new language. But do it right.

Posted on February 12, 2013 by The Old Wolf

Learning another language can come in quite handy.

(Despite the intro, this one has the best resolution. The commercial itself starts at 0:09)

But be sure not to skimp on your effort.

Naturally, you want to make sure you maintain your image. It would never do to be caught speaking English if you’re a Québecois…

(Thanks to SackOfRabidWeasels for reminding me of this one)

Lastly, this one has nothing to do with learning a language, but it’s in Norwegian, and funnier than all getout, so I’m sharing it anyway.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

The value of listening carefully

Posted on February 6, 2013 by The Old Wolf

Notice the article on Page 11 – 30,000 pigs swept away in flood.

That would have been a lot of floating pork. However…

Oops. Probably happened because an Aussie accent is so hard to understand. Even for Aussies.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

The Psych-Illogical Dictionary

Posted on January 26, 2013 by The Old Wolf

The Psych-Illogical Dictionary

(Cross-posted from my Livejournal)

Because it deserves to be preserved, and I have found it nowhere else online save a strange file archived in the R&D Informer

After years of hard labor, psychologists William Ickes, Daniel Wegener, and Robin Vallacher have completed their much-awaited masterwork, tentatively titled The Psych-Illogical Dictionary. The following is a sampling from, the opus which will become a regular feature in these pages. Next month: the letter “P.”

Backward Conditioning – The application of saliva to a dog’s mouth in the attempt to make a bell ring.

Battered Children – Children who have been dipped in egg and flour.

Birth Order – In most cases, head-first, feet-last; but sometimes the other way around.

Blind Spot – What Dick and Jane do to be cruel.

Childhood – The offspring of an encounter between Robin and Maid Marian

Client-Centered Therapy – The form of therapy that, in contrast to weather-centered or furniture-centered therapy, deals with the client.

Critical Period – The one that’s late.

Death-Prone Personality Test – A scale designed to identify death-prone personalities (or their remains )

I: The Death-Prone Personality Test
1. Do you look upon your actions as undertakings?
2. Who has more use for your body, you or science?
3. Is your condition grave in more ways than one?
4. Have you ever been the death of a party?
5. Are you easier to jump over than to walk around?
6. Can you wear dress clothing indefinitely without getting, it soiled?
7. Do you have to be seen to be bereaved?

Death Wish – The only wish that always comes true, whether or not one wishes it to.

Dream Interpretation – The art of telling stories better than people who were fast asleep when they thought of them.

Eugenics – The scientific study of persons named Eugene.

Eye Contact – The result off an extremely narrow nose.

Forebrain – What a neurosurgeon calls out before performing a lobotomy with a golf club.

Gross Motor Skill – The ability to suck spark plugs out of an engine.

How Cruel and Unusual Are You Scale – A scale designed to plumb the depths of one’s depravity

How Cruel and Unusual Are You?
1. Have you any prior experience setting orphans on fire?
2. When your puppy goes off in another room, is it because of the explosive charge?
3. Do you agree with this statement? Guns don’t kill people, I kill people.
4. Do you understand the difference between a baby seal and a pelt?
5. Do you think of Bambi and Thumper as fair game?
6. Have you ever had carnal knowledge of cold cuts?

Pilot Study – The area in an airplane where the pilot keeps his books and magazines.

Propaganda – What to do with a male goose that’s slumped over.

Pupil – A small black hole into which much energy is continually poured without apparent effect.

Subconscious – Preoccupied with a long sandwich.

Transference – Generally regarded as a critical I stage of psychotherapy, it occurs when the client’s check clears the bank.

Zen – The complement of now.

From “Psychology Today,” December 1982.

“I like to learn new words”

Posted on January 26, 2013 by The Old Wolf

… said a Facebook acquaintance of mine.

Well then, you came to the right place; here are some of my favorites. (Most of these are Sniglets.)

ACCORDIONATED (ah kor’ de on ay tid) adj. Being able to drive and refold a road map at the same time.

AQUADEXTROUS (ak wa deks’ trus) adj. Possessing the ability to turn the bathtub faucet on and off with your toes.

AQUALIBRIUM (ak wa lib’ re um) n. The point where the stream of drinking fountain water is at its perfect height, thus relieving the drinker from (a) having to suck the nozzle, or (b) squirting himself in the eye.

ARACHNOLEPTIC FIT (n.) The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.

BEELZEBUG (n.) Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at 3 in the morning and cannot be cast out.

BOZONE (n.) The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

BURGACIDE (burg’ uh side) n. When a hamburger can’t take any more torture and hurls itself through the grill into the coals.

BUZZACKS (buz’ aks) n. People in phone marts who walk around picking up display phones and listening for dial tones even when they know the phones are not connected.

CARPERPETUATION (kar’ pur pet u a shun) n. The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string or a piece of lint at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance.

CASHTRATION (n.) The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

CATERPALLOR (n.) The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you’re eating.

DECAFLON (n.) The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

DIMP (dimp) n. A person who insults you in a cheap department store by asking, “Do you work here?”

DISCONFECT (dis kon fekt’) v. To sterilize the piece of candy you dropped on the floor by blowing on it, somehow assuming this will ‘remove’ all the germs.

DOPELAR EFFECT (n.) The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when you come at them rapidly.

ECNALUBMA (ek na lub’ ma) n. A rescue vehicle which can only be seen in the rearview mirror.^[1]

EIFFELITES (eye’ ful eyetz) n. Gangly people sitting in front of you at the movies who, no matter what direction you lean in, follow suit.

ELBONICS (el bon’ iks) n. The actions of two people maneuvering for one armrest in a movie theater.

ELECELLERATION (el a cel er ay’ shun) n. The mistaken notion that the more you press an elevator button the faster it will arrive.

EXTRATERRESTAURANT (n.) An eating place where you feel you’ve been abducted and experimented upon. Also known as an ET‑ry.

FRUST (frust) n. The small line of debris that refuses to be swept onto the dust pan and keeps backing a person across the room until he finally decides to give up and sweep it under the rug.

GRANTARTICA (n.) The cold, isolated place where art companies dwell without funding.

HEMAGLOBE (n.) The bloody state of the world.

HOOVERGROOVER (hoo’ ver groo ver) n. One who has a neurotic compulsion to leave parallel vacuum tracks in the carpet.

IGNORANUS: (n.) (ig nor an’ us) Someone who is not only stupid but also an asshole.

INTAXICATION (n.) Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

KINSTIRPATION (n.) A painful inability to move relatives who come to visit.

LACTOMANGULATION (lak’ to man gyu lay’ shun) n. Manhandling the “open here” spout on a milk container so badly that one has to resort to the ‘illegal’ side.

LULLABUOY (n.) An idea that keeps floating into your head and prevents you from drifting off to sleep.

NEONPHANCY (ne on’ fan see) n. A fluorescent light bulb struggling to come to life.

PEPPIER (pehp ee ay’) n. The waiter at a fancy restaurant whose sole purpose seems to be walking around asking diners if they want ground pepper.

PETONIC (peh ton’ ik) adj. One who is embarrassed to undress in front of a household pet.

PHONESIA (fo nee’ zhuh) n. The affliction of dialing a phone number and forgetting whom you were calling just as they answer.

PUPKUS (pup’ kus) n. The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to it.

TELECRASTINATION (tel e kras tin ay’ shun) n. The act of always letting the phone ring at least twice before you pick it up, even when you’re only six inches away.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

[1] The first time I read this word I had just broken three ribs. It came across my desk as part of a LISTSERV message, and it was the first time in my life that I could neither stop laughing and crying at the same time.