This Yahoo! Answers thing is getting out of control. There’s a reason chat rooms were invented, and it was so that weird people with dumb questions could congregate with other weird people with dumb answers IN THE PRIVACY OF THEIR OWN absurdity. For some reason, the geniuses at Yahoo! thought that the general public would like to join in on riveting discussions like, “Why does turkey make you tired?” and “Why does my belt have to match my shoes?” Then they slapped it on their homepage, and, because questions like “I want Garden?” weren’t ridiculous enough, they gave everyone avatars, which, if I understand it correctly, are cartoonish representations of oneself, so that when you go into question answering mode, you can, like a super hero, transform from a boring, ordinary geek into an extraordinarily geekish bore.
(Ed. Note: That last paragraph may make the author seem a bit bitchy. In fact, you couldn’t be more correct. One time a therapist told him that when he remonstrated (his word, dick) like that, what he was really doing was engaging in displacement, or redirecting his anger at a safer target in order to avoid dealing with a . . . The author stopped him there and said, “No, you’re just ugly.”)
But this is too much. Lawrence Fishburn? He of “I speak so much less threateningly than Denzel, I should be white people’s favorite black actor” fame? Here? Posing questions to a mass of anonymous cartoon faces? Well, maybe he’ll at least ask a hard, riveting question:
Lawrence . . . are you kidding me? This is your challenging question? You really don’t know why people don’t talk about it more? How about this: BECAUSE IT’S SAD! Who wants to go around talking about dying children? Why would I wait 20 minutes to get the couch at Starbucks just to sit down and ruin it by saying, “So, about these 10 million dead kids.” It’s just common sense. In fact, I’m tempted to set up an account just so I can log in and answer that question for you. Lucky for you I choose not to. So instead you’ll get answers where people suck up to you. Like
Oh . . . oh snap, Lawrence. She asked for your proof! I’m not saying you should do this, but if it were me I would find out who this Smartypants is and where she lives and I would put a dead kid on her doorstep with a note that says, “Exhibit A.” Then after about 10 seconds of her screaming, have the kid pop up and say, “Nobody messes with the Fish!” and run off. Because that joke seemed a little morbid, even for me.
(Ed. Note: In the interest of full disclosure, the author wants you to know he has an avatar for his Yahoo! account. He uses it for his fantasy football league. He thought the horse was a nice touch.)