Yes, Innernet(sic). We’re going to start renaming things to make life more confusing.

Ski Jumping is a funny sport. Imagine the first guy who thought of it: let’s ski down the hill as fast as we can and jump off the end of a ramp at the bottom. But in these Innernet times, why are a man’s* genitals suddenly relevant? As the ski jumpers jump, they spread their legs for more surface area and more aerodynamic lift. As one current jumper put it: “We want to be like flying squirrels out there.” It appears some jumpers are sewing extra material into the crotch of their suits for “extra” surface area. Perhaps in a response to the new Ski Jumper Crotch Measurement team now tasked with using 3-D imaging to make sure the suits “fit” the anatomy, there is a rumor of ski jumpers getting “injections into their penises” to justify the extra crotch material. I’d say, “Only in America”, but so far, the scandal hasn’t affected our ski team. Were they picked for the team because the size of their…no…no way…right?

There are software/Ai companies now generating life-like memes and images of the dead. For a fee, of course. These companies will take video and audio recordings and transform the recordings into life-like, talking images of the departed that loved ones can actually engage in conversation. It sounds like a great idea and reminds me of a statistic from a population story: It’s estimated over 110 billion people have died during humankind’s history. Forget the details of how that number was determined and imagine if they all had made the “After Death Avatar(ADA)”**? Now imagine everyone, starting today, gets an ADA. The business potential is obvious but maybe in 100 years we can use all these ADAs to populate an artificial world?***

Imagine how history would be written and recorded. Boom goes the mind.

A Super Bowl halftime controversy is recently being enjoyed by all who care about it. Most of us true football fans go off to the bathroom and kitchen (not in that order) at halftime, so meh. But the rage about the 2026 Super Bowl show is interesting. After decades of English Language Super Bowls, the Super Bowl Powers had a Spanish Language Super Bowl. Hm. It has united left and right in xenophobic, linguistic bombasticness(sic). What will happen next, a Navajo language halftime? Irish? Swahili? Minion? The fact that for 13 minutes of American Television, lazy, single-language Americans had to endure the words of a language representing 20 per cent of the American citizenry and over 400 million people worldwide…OMG! For one second imagine how that 20 percent felt for all the other Superbowls, all 59 of them.

The Innernet has so many good stories getting lost in the algorithms, dooming them to being “gone” from eyeballs, forever. One that will live on for at least as long as this essay, is the story of two Greenland Scientists.**** They have found a way to convert a bad, manufacturing and water-treatment by-product, arsenic, into a product not only necessary in the making of electronic devices, but currently in short supply. Well, done, Greenlanders, for taking a deadly contaminant out of circulation and giving it a new, safe, useful life. Hopefully, by the time the electronic devices reach the landfill we will find a way to deal with arsenic—and other deadly shite– permanently.

Want to do a little good for the world but don’t know how? Click on better stories. Instead of clicking on stories about men’s crotches, click on stories like the Greenland recyclers. It will change the search algorithms and maybe change the world. It would be nice to have the Innernet news feeds send good stuff to the top of the page.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll find something else to ponder and pontificate about, like ending a sentence with a preposition.

  *Are females doing it, too? Hm.

 **For convenience and not to be confused with the real ADA.

***See “Upload”, as Amazon streaming series for how close that world might be.

****Huh. No wonder we want Greenland so bad.

PS: Having trouble with footnote locations. Don’t stop reading, we’ll get it sorted, as the British like to say.