THE INTERNETS — Today thousands of stunned website owners picked themselves up off the floor, brushed off their “I am Ninja.” t-shirts and began the frantic search to find what went wrong.
This reporter went directly to an expert.
“It’s simple, really.”, said a famous self-proclaimed Search Engine Optimization SEO Guru with a penchant for redundant titles. “These content poor and content thin websites have merrily ridden the search engine merry-go-round for years. All the while, their owners have given little or no thought to usability, readability and consumer happiness. The merry-go-round carny just kicked them off.”
I found his metaphoric depiction of search giant Google as a “carny” interesting. Suddenly, just before I could ask him to expound, the famous SEO guru’s face twisted and his head jerked forward. The back of his skull had been pelted by what this reporter can only describe as an half-eaten bag of sour gummy worms.
A fading cry of, “Shut up, stupid head!” could be heard as the apparent gummy worm hurling assailant sprinted down the street.
The guru, angry tears in his eyes, yelled back, “I’m telling mom!”, before running off in the opposite direction.
Surprised, stunned, shocked and awed, this reporter stood alone. The tiny, broken, rubbery bodies of brightly colored gelatinous creatures lay scattered at my feet.
At that moment, as I stared down at what this reporter can only describe as stringy bits of rainbow throw up, I got it. I knew what it was all about.
Sour gummy worms were a metaphor, a vehicle if you will. An outward expression of the displeasing taste left in the mouths of disenfranchised website owners whose sites had been devalued, demonetized and devastated.
It wasn’t just a half -eaten bag of cavity creating confectioneries the assailant slammed into the back of the famous SEO guru’s head, it was a half-eaten bag of shattered dreams.
I needed to verify my interpretation.
Though I had little hope of finding him, I ran in the direction the gummy worm bandit had hit and then run.
I’d almost given the search up when I spotted him through a plate glass window. He stood in the North facing first aisle of the South Street Best Buy playing Guitar Hero. I went to him.
“Is it true?”, I asked, out of breath.
“Is what true?”, he replied.
“Is it true that the half-eaten bag of gummy worms signified both your philosophical and pragmatic displeasure with the latest set of rules imposed upon you by the search engines?”
He looked at me through eyes squintier than Squint Eastwood’s.
“Man, what you been smoking? My brother ate the last frozen turkey pot pie even though I clearly called dibs on it yesterday. And anyway, those were his gummy worms. Now go away so I can riff. I am ninja!”