Goo Google doll
While hangin’ at the house during a recent snow day, I noticed the presence of a canker sore on my inner lower lip. I wondered as to how I might hasten its healing, so I went to Google, typed in “canker sore treatment,” and found out these little devils are (a) harmless, (b) not contagious, (c) not cold sores, (d) also called aphthous ulcers, and (e) may be inspired to reoccur by common mainstream toothpastes that contain an ingredient called sodium lauryl sulfate. I did a little research at the store, and found that every toothpaste available contains this stuff.
Later that evening, time for dinner. I had a really nice rib-eye sittin’ in the fridge. If it was July, it would be a no-brainer—fire up the Weber and grill that sucker. But it’s December, and I didn’t want to go outside to my cold dark patio. I felt more like doing a pan fry. I know how to make a mediocre pan-fried rib-eye. How about a great one?
So what do I do? Call a friend? Puh-leez. No, I return to Googleville. And once again, there was my instant answer. The key to a killer pan-fried steak, interestingly enough, is not to fry it. That is, you take your cast iron skillet, get it raging hot, drop the oiled steak in it, and sear it for 90-120 seconds a side. Then, take the pan—unless it has a plastic handle—and put it in the pre-heated oven (450) and bake that bad boy for 9 to 12 minutes, depending on your desired level of rarity. And lo and behold, what came out was indeed a really good “pan-fried” steak. Much better than what I would have mindlessly cooked on my own.
While scarfing my triumph, I mulled and marveled at how thoroughly intregrated into our lifestyles Google has become. To the point now where we don’t even think about it. We just—Google it. (And how many even know where the name came from? Hint—it’s spelled googol.) In the space of 12 years (first day online 11-11-98), this company has basically changed life on Earth, providing an almost instant portal into the collective brain of humanity. Yes, I could have looked up canker sores and steaks at the library 20 years ago. And it would have been a pain in the butt (assuming the library would even have a book about canker sores, fercrissake). With Google, though, my quest for this trivial minutiae was conducted and concluded in seconds. What a mind-boggling thing this is. And we no longer even notice. We just Google away, one billion times a day, every day.
No wonder the effing stock goes for 600 bucks a pop.
Different topic: OK, I’m gonna get this right, dammit, third time being charming and all. John Lennon, born October 9, 1940. Died December 8, 1980. Thank you.