Since the start of this academic year, my friends have noticed that something has changed about me. My eyes are always wistfully half−open, betraying my daydreaming mind. I walk around listlessly, constantly checking my phone. At any given point in the day, I exhibit an idiotic grin that scares away potential friends. I would be embarrassed, but I'm too giddy to care. I'm sure you understand the feeling: that swooping, gravity−defying lovesickness we all fall victim to at some point in life.
Unashamedly, I admit I am in goopy, revolting love. Your happiness for my good fortune is noted — and appreciated! If it were possible, each and every Daily reader would be promptly receiving a silver−print, cream−matted wedding invitation. I must warn you that though I am wholly devoted to the object of my affection, this love affair is probably doomed. It's just too difficult to make productivity tools love you in return.
Some readers might pause upon realizing that this column is, in fact, lovingly devoted to Google Internet applications. To those of little faith, please hear me out. You skeptics are probably still using Tufts Webmail, which is fine. All I am trying to do is open doors for you, though; life does change under the adoring care of Google, if you can ignore the fact that a corporation devoted to technological advancement can't kiss you back.
Whether or not you are a firm adherent to the Cult of Google Chat, or even a dogmatic Google Docs user, it is becoming increasingly difficult to deny the permeation of Google productivity tools throughout our campus culture. More students are forwarding their Webmail to their Gmail account, and the use of Google Groups has increased among student organizations looking to digitize their operations. The services offered by Google Inc. have expanded beyond searching the web, or as adults now colloquially say, "doing a Google." That's almost right, Mom, but not quite.
The demand for greater levels of organization in our increasingly busy student lives has been eagerly met by Google. Documents, e−mail, calendars, even meals (strike that — Google Foods is still in beta development) are organized and offered to those individuals whose days are so filled with activity that not even human memory can account for everything to be done. Relying on Google is like relying on a snazzy, colorful secretary who never disappoints you or inappropriately flirts with your boss.
There's something of a glamour factor associated with Google, as well. That statement might seem odd on first consideration, but take a second to think of other Internet mail and productivity tool providers. In comparison to services like Hotmail, Yahoo or — God forbid — AOL, Google takes a particular interest in the design of their interfaces and systems. From the day−to−day artful designs of the company logo to the streamlined nature of their menus, it's clear that a certain level of taste is needed to produce such good−looking services. Though not nearly to the same degree, Google's preoccupation with design recalls that same attention paid by Apple, though Google executives are probably not as mystical and chic as Steve Jobs.
This outpouring of love for technological advancement might seem contradictory in comparison to my previous column that railed against Watson, the IBM computer−monster threatening humanity through its participation on Jeopardy! To this, I simply reply: midterms. Because Watson is not readily available for use in organizing my life in light of endless papers and exams, I will have to settle for the less invasive but equally intelligent Google to help me through.
I draw the line, of course, at Google Boyfriend. Love can only go so far.
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