So Apparently There’s This Thing Called the Internet

By Kelley Lindberg


The internet sent me a horoscope this morning:

Really? Apparently there’s information on the internet, and it’s available to me, and all I have to do is search for it, and I don’t need to drive to the library to get it.

Wow. Next thing you know, it will tell me that the trusty card catalogues in my library have been replaced by…oh, I don’t know… a database or something.

This confirms my suspicions that all the horoscopes on the internet were actually written sometime in the 1980s and are just recycled every year.

Which makes one distrust the internet. Which makes one distrust internet searches. Which makes one consider going to the library instead. Which makes one stub one’s toe on the irony. Just a little. Especially since nothing guarantees the accuracy of information just because it’s bound in a book instead of fizzing electrons out there on the web.

Every once in a while, I try to imagine what it must have been like to be a writer before the internet was readily accessible. After about five seconds, I begin to hyperventilate. After ten seconds, I’m in a full-blown panic attack.

So thanks, internet horoscope, for making me thankful that I am a writer in the internet age, and not in the “Where the heck is that phone book, and why isn’t there a listing for ‘Portuguese chefs’ in it? Guess I’m off to the library now” age.

Although I must say, if the last sentence of the horoscope turned out to be true, that would be fine by me. I’m definitely up for some travel right now. Perhaps I could hunt down one of those Portuguese chefs… in Portugal.