Meet the Windows XP install program lonely arrow. You can meet it because it is a person, with feelings, fears, wants and needs, just like you. Must we anthropomorphisize all things? I feel bad about not needing this thing’s help. That’s it’s only purpose, its only aspiration in life, the thing it has devoted its entire existence to being ready for, and I don’t even give it a chance to prove itself. Worse, its only friend, the baby arrow, decided it would be more popular if it got in with the green square arrow’s crowd instead. There is no one to comfort the help arrow in dealing with its unfortunate spinal condition caused from spending so much time awkwardly bent over inside that little circle. I almost want to cry.

I will persevere, though. A lot of people have it worse than I do but don’t lose their heads over it. They still might want to attach a string, though, just in case.

I think feet as the O letters is pushing the gimmick, a bit. Some members of the logo lobby seem to think that any object can be used to substitute any vowel. If anything, this is Giigle, which it isn’t, which means it’s nothing.

On the subject of Michael Jackson tributes two months after his death still suddenly and inexplicably turning up in places where they never would have had the man lived to 180 years of age, I can at least understand them, to some extent. He was a near-mythic figure, most people know who he was, and he did plenty of things they liked. He did things they didn’t like… even if you don’t see validity in the molestation charges, it’s hard to not see some level of unusual weirdness that the guy could have and ought to have controlled, acknowledged or challenged people to accept, but that only became most apparent AFTER his greatest hits, unless we count Moonwalker. It’s easy to keep the various Jackson editions separate in one’s mind for denial purposes.
Anyway, fine, you like Michael Jackson when he’s dead. Billy Mays, however, I don’t understand. He was just an oaf who talked kind of loud and abrasively. He had nothing to do with the creation of any of the junk he helped (apparently) sell. I thought at first people were just honoring him as a joke, but there are those on the internet who sincerely found their lives less full with that guy in the ground. Research into the accusation that these people also enjoyed the movie Watchmen and expected to enjoy Snakes on a Plane has yet proved inconclusive, because I don’t actually want to talk to any of the people I thinking of or learn anything about them.

The Friends and Company, a restaurant, and its unappetizing hot dog sign. Maybe it’s the total lack of detail, maybe it’s the bright primary colors, maybe it’s the too-small hotdog roll, maybe it’s the fact that this is near Friends and Company, but I never want a hot dog LESS than when I see this. Perhaps that is the point, though, since as far as I am aware hot dogs are not served within Friends & Company, and so it can only benefit from making the thought of eating one seem unpleasant.

Or so I once thought; upon re-evaluation the day after writing that, I discovered this makes me not want to eat anything.