Maybe they have the Google Juju.
I know for a fact search engines hate me with a passion, and I hate them back with an equal, if not greater one. I have googled... oh, how I have googled. And the vile unalive monstruosity that is the search engine mustered enough life to smirk back at me derisively. "Here's what you typed. We are but machines. We obey without question. Here is what you typed, not what you wanted. Not what you needed." Unquestioning, brainless obedience is disobedience unto itself. And that is what they did. They mocked me with their brainlessness. And the answers lay there, mere clicks away, yet out of reach. I could hear them, hear the murmur of facts, pictures, data, potent with relevance, yet hidden beneath a thin, yet obscuring veneer of syntax mismatches, misspellings, bends in the train of thought, quirks of another's associative chain, that separated me from them. I knew that if I asked the right question, typed the correct strings, evoked the obscure invocations that pleased the almightly bot, the stars would align and that which I sought after would be revealed to me, yet that power was not mine to wield. I knew despair.
But I never gave up hope. I learned to think like the enemy. I learned its quirks and foibles, its many buttons and levers; I know now which strands of the tangled web to pull to make its very foundations tremble. The great series of tubes opens before me and spills its bountiful plenty. The information superhighway lies before me like a majestic instrument, its many strings at my fingertips, ready to sound out whatever harmony (or shattering discord) I desire.
In short, Google is my bitch.
And yet still, when faced with a question, I remember how much easier it is to simply ask a fellow human being, and not cast yourself at the mercy of the machine.
