The Poet Reflects on Google,
or, The Miraculous Corporation that is Also a Verb
O Google, you are always swell,
You consign competitors to Hell.
Your search function works like a dream,
Divining always what I mean.
You correct me when my spelling’s bad,
Saying “did you mean this, or wish you had?”
I’m feeling lucky, more oft than not,
Click on the button, see what you’ve got.
Just search for ‘failure,’ query’s sent
And hey! Up pops the President.
Now lest I fail to mention this,
I’d give your programmers a kiss
Or at least a fellow-well-met hail
For coming up with that Gmail.
2Gb of lovely storage room
That doesn’t crash and sadly doom
My messages to the lightless void
(Unlike Hotmail—sound I annoyed?).
And now—huzzah!—you’ve reached still higher
With the Gmail desktop notifier.
A charming chime sounds soft and clear
When new mail messages appear.
Your News, your Talk, your Image Search
Have never left me in the lurch.
A Google-phile I clearly am,
You are the shepherd, I the lamb.
Yet one last thing leaves me agog:
Why the hell won’t you crawl my blog?!
And in other news: Are you fuddled by Fitzgerald? Muddled by Miller? Scuttled by Scooter? Convinced your thought process is less than awesome by your inability to understand the machinations of Turd Blossom?
Never fear! My delightful and talented Washington insider sister (well, she lives in DC, anyway) has come up with a Graphic Organizer to help you sort through the mess and understand just what’s so rotten in the state of Denmark, or semi-autonomous-yet-taxed-without-representation city of Washington, DC. Whatever.
Download & enjoy… really, it’s worth clicking for the full size…