Sometimes on extremely rare, somewhat special occasions, I will take a little time out of my vigorous lifestyle of bear hunts, extreme ketone synthesis orgies and jumping out of planes in one of those squirrel suit things to peruse what is commonly known as “The Internet”.
But the more and more time I spend on this “The Web” the more I come to realise that perhaps maybe I should run away from it as fast as humanly possible and hide where it can never find me.
Like under a rock. In a cave. Beneath the ocean. On Venus.
Do they have the Internet on Venus? Probably.
The reason I feel this way can be quite effectively summed up by something that happened ten minutes ago.
During a brief exploration onto The Facebooks I found one of my friend’s status updates about the recent re-release of James Cameron’s Titanic. In order to make a witty remark about Cameron being a money-vacuuming cheeseface who instead of making a new film is adding what appears to be a “depth of field” to something that is fifteen years old at this point, I had to consult the mighty Wikipedia to find out precisely when Titanic was first released.
Which is where things start to go south.
Typing “Titanic” into Wikipedia brings you to the “RMS Titanic” page. As in, the actual fucking boat. And rightly so, it should. But there at the top of the page was that little tag that some people who frequent the Internet far more regularly than myself might be used to.
The “[Insert your Wikipedia-ed term here] (disambiguation)” link.
So I begin thinking to myself, “You know, I never have really been sure what ‘disambiguation’ really means.”
And then the inevitable happens. I arrive at this page:
You win again, Internet.