I ask the barista if there’s a password for the internet. “No,” she says. “You just have to accept the terms of service, and boom, you’re rocking and rolling.” “Well, I’m about to rock and roll, so you better salute me.” Judging from her face, the barista doesn’t get the reference. But before I can tell her to Google it, she hits me with the harsh reality of surfing ye olde internet.
Wouldn’t bulgogi tacos make the world a better place?
The best scones I ever ate are in the cafeteria at Arcadia Methodist Hospital. They’re Sodexo scones, and I’d give my data for the recipe.
Who is this barista?! Can we be best friends if I promise to eat their leftover dusty scones?!
If the bartender is a therapist the barista is the cultural sage. I wonder if said barista can hack into said data. Can’t do scones anymore. Miss them.
Omg, the crockpot comment cracked me up. My husband is constantly complaining, “if these algorithms are so good that they track my every click and search, how is it they can’t figure out when I’ve ALREADY BOUGHT the thing?”
I appreciate your taking the time to work the Roomba into this
“And who is that, exactly?”
“It’s a dynamic situation,” she says. 😂😂
Okay, this vaguely terrified me. 🙀 And how do we see our own data? Meanwhile: I love this barista even if she doesn’t know AC/DC. I feel like you two could become good friends!
It’s refreshing to hear such honesty. Was she wearing a data miner helmet?
Traditional scones are dry. You're supposed to dip 'em. But I've made many a nice, moist scone so maybe they just do it for shelf life? 🤷🏻♀️
I once wrote about a NYC laundry pick up and delivery service. The founders admitted to me that it was all an elaborate plot to collect delivery data on each customer--how long the elevator ride took, etc. Bizarre!
My favorite line in this issue: “Then why is the coffee $5?”
You know, this would make for some damn fine fiction. Each donut and coffee going for 1 terabyte of data.
Please, please, tell me that this happened, because that's the type of coffee shop I'd visit. The waitress is drop dead sexy.
I was laughing the whole time I read it. It's getting shared and restacked, sir.
As I understand data monetization there is an “ad exchange” like the stock market where Google and Facebook are like the fund managers who create mutual funds and advertisers purchase an index based on the demographics they want to see their ads, such as males 25-40 who have watched slacker noir movies. Pricing is based on metrics like “click thru” rates (how frequently we cattle visit the advertiser’s “landing page” and the subset thereof who begin or complete the process of providing payment information).
Did you just happen to find a “Danger: Scone” GIF? That a very specific and relevant GIF!
With all that intrigue -- and who doesn’t enjoy a big data conspiracy theory -- did you actually get your coffee?
1. I thought the coffee shop scones were decorative, like stock paintings of gambling dogs. Eating one seems like gambling.
2. My inner completionist says to complete the set. And my outer completionist. They complete each other.
3. They’re banking on getting lunch out of the conversation altogether.
4. Definitely a spendthrift, I have one of the most well-documented lives in history. I’m guessing a government outfit, nothing burns like taxpayer money.
5. If I make it Lovecraftiant enough, someone else might leave it alone. Why make it easy? If you want my shopping habits, you’re wading through 4 Terabytes of Sumerian erotic poetry.
Micheal, once again another gem. Any one of us that uses the internet regularly has a certain amount of fear factor as to where and how our data is being used. I even have thought, is this data collecting taking control of my mind, too. Isn't data largely are thoughts searching for more thoughts?
I am such a fan that I am reading Not Safe for Work and enjoying it, so funny. I am about half way through the book and anxious to know the ending. Be well.