Rage Against the Machine

AmericanOutdoorsCo is selling this sign for $18 on Etsy

Welcome to the Weekend Gene Pool, considered a shoo-in for the 2024 National Medal of Technology and Innovation, awarded yearly by the President of the United States to American inventors who have made significant contributions to the development of new and important technology — in this case, internet-facilitated creative crowdsourced modern Substackery combining capacitative touch technology, interdependent tactile functionality, and snark.

As always in the Weekend Gene Pool we seek your thoughts on a subject of our choosing, and in return, we promise to entertain you, often by the skillful deployment of bullshit.

Anyway. This week, I drove with Rachel from D.C. to Charlottesville, Va. At one point the Google Maps GPS informed us that there was a faster route available, off the big whizzing highway we were on. We authorized this change, as most people do. Who opts for a slower route? And that decision is how our fateful adventure began.

Once we had committed to the new route, we noted suspiciously that the estimated time of arrival — two and a half hours later — didn’t change; in fact, it began to march forward — first by one minute, then four minutes, then nine. The Google lady was no longer even trying to deliver her mollifying, self-protective lie that “You are still on the fastest route.”

Directionally, she kept changing her mind, without telling us. No “rerouting.” We were wiggling through the streets of Washington. First we were heading for I-66 as a destination, then we weren’t, then we were, then we weren’t, then we were. After 40 minutes of this, we had not even gotten out of D.C. The Washington Monument kept looming briefly into view in the distance, then disappearing. We had not taken any streets wider than two lanes. We had not gone more then three quarters of a mile on a single stretch. We had made more than 20 turns. We had hit a red light roughly every minute and a half. And we had not even had a whiff of the presence of a thoroughfare beginning with “I” for Interstate. We were taking lefts and rights onto roads we’d never heard of, with off-the-beaten-track names like Elmer Jones Blvd, Grampus Lane, Fish Head Mews, Grumpington Terrace, Gopher Alley, and Crawfish Crescent. We reached Charlottesville very significantly later than the original estimate, issued before departing on our promised shortcut.

So we were hating on Karen Elisabeth Jacobsen, which is the name of the woman who is the voice of Google’s GPS. We didn’t know her name at the time, but looked it up later because we wanted to ignite a flaming bag of poo at her front door. Alas she seems to live — this is true — in Toowoomba, Queensland, Australia. Toowoomba was originally named “Drayton Swamp.”

Technology is wonderful. But there are times — rare times — that it fails you. That’s the question for today: Recall a time when modern technology failed you. Or maybe, you failed it. Sometimes it is hard to tell.

Please note that “modern” is relative. If you happen to be 85 years old and remember the disaster when you first used the new technology called a “ballpoint pen” — that would be appropriate. (Many, many years ago The Style Invitational invited readers to ask a question resulting in the Jeopardy!-style answer “Wikipedia Jones.” Our intent was to provoke a question ike “The least competent kids’ detective ever,” which made more sense during the online encyclopedia’s early, error-besotted years.)

So. That’s your challenge. As always, please send your entries to the MOB:

And finally, today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll.

See you all on Tuesday.

Oh, and always remember the MOAB button here (Magic Orange Alms Button):