Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Look At Me, Ma --I'm A Googlewhack!

As far as I know, I'm not a Antegooglewhackblatt. I'm pretty sure I'm not a Googlewhackblatt either. But dad gum it, I'm a Googlewhack.

What's a Googlewhack, you're asking? I know that's what you're doing, because that's exactly what I was doing when an Irish university student named Ciarin H. sent me a cryptic e-mail that got me scratching my pate: "Did you know you were a Googlewhack?"

"You take that back" is a regular person's first thought, of course. But I was intrigued. I'm fairly used to hate mail at this point, as I've run several internet lemonade stands for some time now, but this didn't look like any DIAF missive I've seen. So I looked it up in Wikipedia:

A Googlewhack is a Google search query consisting of two words--both in Google's dictionary, and without quotation marks--that returns a single result. A successful Googlewhack returns 'Results 1-1 of 1'. Googlewhacking is the pastime of seeking such a result. A person attempting to find a Googlewhack is known as a Googlewhacker.
Well, Ciarin H. was assigned Googlewhacking as a university project, and lo and behold, discovered me.

I remember way back when, when I started my first website, I duly registered with dmoz and Yahoo and the Yellow Pages and so forth, and would try Google every day to see if by typing in my exact name you would find me. It tooks months before anything but my entire web address would work. Now I'm all over these here intarnets like a rash. You can type "cottage furniture" into any search engine and see what I mean.

But that's small beer. I'm a Googlewhack! I'm eternally grateful to Ciarin for alerting me to this, and having the kindness to tell me the two words -- but no one else -- because you see, being a Googlewhack is like being Praseidimio. Who's that, you wonder? Why, that's the Italian version of the old fairytale Rumpelstiltskin. And just like Rumpelstiltskin, if I reveal my Googlewhack to anybody, and they publish it anywhere on the internet, Google will index it, and my Googlewhack status will disappear like Rumpelstiltskin through the floor when he stamps his foot.

A Googlewhack. Me. Napoleon, Alexander, Einstein, Churchill, Lincoln... all pikers compared to me. What are their accomplishments, really, when hoisted up next to mine? It's like a kind of internet nobility, really; and like real nobility, there's no effort or merit about it. I just gotta sit still and keep quiet.

By gad, this is like a curse for a yammering fool like me.


Walrus said...

Some fates truly are poetic justice. ;o)

How long do you think you can hold out before you spill it?

Patrick Martin said...

Guessing didn't work so well for the miller's daughter, so I will sit and wait until my messengers reveal your Googlewhack to me, as I'm certain you will be regaling somebody with the tale around a fire somewhere.

Ruth Anne Adams said...

"intarnet sippican" got me 4 responses...all from here.

Now I'm turning into a googlewhack-job.

Spill it!!

Ruth Anne Adams said...

By the way: I'm NOT digging the Blogger/Beta. I can't seem to view screens without a warning coming up. ALL THE TIME.

SippicanCottage said...

costanza voice> I'm a vault Jerry! A vault! /costanza voice>

Blogger beta is a PITA. It actually works better in the wysiwyg editor, and pictures load more reliably, but we'll all be better off when they make everyone change over and nuke the old one. Having two versions makes my browser have kittens every couple minutes.

Patrick Martin said...

Well, if you had used elaine voice, then we'd all know the key, but I can't remember the key to George's vault. Susan's dead, so we can't use the "you have to tell your fiance everything" routine...

SippicanCottage said...

I don't have an Elaine voice. However, I did have a big salad this evening. It's like a salad. Only bigger. with lots of stuff in it.

Ruth Anne Adams said...

Wasn't schnapps the key to Elaine's vault?

No soup for you!

Yada, yada, I had the bisque, yada, yada.

You yada-yada'd sex? You yada'd the best part!

I said, "I had the bisque."

Gad. How many wasted hours?