This Raises The Question

Oh, yeah? 

I think it's time for yet another remake of The Man Who Knew Too Much. The most famous version is the one with James Stewart, however, Hitchcock made that movie at least one other time before that. 

Now, I'm no Alfred Hitchcock, unless I am for all the wrong reasons, however I do make movies on a more than an occasional basis. Well, at least that's what THEY call them. Who are they?

For the most part, it's those that make decisions that directly affect you, no matter what you do, or where you are. You have absolutely no control over THEM, therefore, paying attention is a good thing to a point where you decide that THEY are wrong! 

The sermon at church today boiled downto exactly this, and before you bail because I made downto one word, I say, "It's a programming thing." Everyone has their own opinion, and you know what those are like. Maybe you don't, but I like to get a PG rating on this blog every once in awhile. 

Why do I think a classic should be made again, when I eschew remakes? The easy answer is that I'm a hypocrite.  The longer answer to fill my arbitrary word count to make some semblance of sense appears following. 

We live in the Too Much Information Age. I was talking about this today with the doctor that tested me for COVID.  Fully half the information available to you today conflicts with the other half. Who do you trust? Not to be confused or confuzzed(sic) with the game show hosted by Johnny Carson before he became The Tonight Show host. 

If I had the time, I could search for the article I read sometime last year, but it basically states that with the invention of modern conveniences up to and including the computer, tablet, phone, or whatever you're using to read this, has created an explosion of information, and over the last century we've created as much recorded information as existed before these inventions. 

I could probably perform a search and maybe find the graph from the article itself. What does this have to do with the title of this missive? Better yet, why did I start this way, and more importantly, why the Johnny Carson reference?

In no particular order of importance; Carson had a character: Floyd R Turnbow, American. He'd come out and monologue about everything that's wrong with the country in general, and how it affected him in particular. Around the middle, he'd say something like, "This raises the question, kiss my grits!!!"

I know, it doesn't make too much sense, so, it's right up there with this bloviation about something I heard over 30 years ago. One time, he forgot, and said, "Oh, yeah?" 

When you're on the playground in elementary school, you'd have arguments like this. "Oh, yeah?" to which some other random punk kid would shoot back, "Yeah! What are you gonna do about it?" If there weren't any authority types around, a fight may break out. 

So, conflict breeds drama as previously discussed by me either here or elsewhere, and characters take action as a test of their well, character.  No matter what happens in a couple of weeks and beyond, I'm going to need to make a movie.   I know what it should be about, however, as previously stated, I may BE the man who knows too much.

72 and sunny in Redondo Beach. Adjust Your Expectations Accordingly™

The Race To 5000

I don't have to tell you times are bad. You have other places you go for that. However, as the recent result of all the new privacy laws trickle through the various sites at varying paces, an interesting phenomenon has taken place. First, let's talk about the purge, not to be confused with the movie franchise of the same name.

This one took place on Twitter, and by extension, the other social media sites as well. At the same time, a proliferation of 'bots has materialized on Facebook, and with my steer into the iceberg philosophy fully intact, I plan to max out my book of the face friends at the titular number.

Other sites play the friends game differently. You can have as many connections on LinkedIn™ as you want, and I'm a LION there. If you don't know what that is, look it up. Most of you are using your social media responsibly, while the rest of the planet is attempting to monetize your experience there. I may be somewhat guilty of this, as I ask you to buy me a few cups of coffee every time I post something new. Coffee keeps the virtual engine running, and if you were around during the 80's, Coffee Achiever is a title that I would gladly embrace.

However, you're not obligated to buy me coffee, or anything else for that matter. Pay Per Click, or PPC, has taken over the entire 'net. Advertising and subscription are the only two valid ways to make any kind of money, and the tech exists for anyone to do both, and the big boys want to keep all of theirs, while giving you crumbs.

What's this got to do with anything?

Well, I'll tell you, if for no other reason to make some semblance of an arbitrary word count deemed current by search engines this week. Most of those accounts that were purged were NOT real people. They were 'bots programmed to artificially inflate clicks. Someone figured this out, and as server space is at a premium these days, and they decided to do something about it. I've talked about the GDPR elsewhere, and IIRC, May 25th is when all of this started.

It may have started before that with fallout from #Brexit, but I'm only descended from Irish Nobility. I don't live in the UK, and I'm only remotely affected by things they do there, like drive on the wrong side of the street. Of course, from their POV, we're driving on the wrong side of the street, but that's because we rebelled (See:American Revolution).

I don't necessarily know with absolute certainty that A implies B in this case, I just have a notion that it's true. I didn't start getting face requests on Friendsbook, wait. Strike that. Reverse it. Until after the purge that took place, what a week ago?

So, I'm simply going to sit back and allow all the 'bots to request friendship, and I'll let them know that the ship is sinking. Because if the other indicators of desperation are true, it's only a matter of time before the book of faces collapses under it's own weight. Hint: Nothing is too big to fail. They just perform BADLY.

72 and Sunny in Redondo Beach. Adjust your expectations accordingly™