It’s rare to witness a genuine apotheosis in real time, but yesterday, if you were on Twitter around noon Pacific time, you may have witnessed the Greatest Twitter Fail of All Time.
A few days ago, US Airways received this complaint from Twitter user @ElleRafter: “@USAirways Unhappy that 1787 sat for an hour on tarmac in CLT because overweight, resulting in over hour late arrival in PDX…” There was a brief, benign exchange. Then days later, in a routine follow-up US Airways tweeted the following (originally with an uncensored image):
The average Jane Six-Pack out there would be rightly confused by the idea that Dow Chemical Co. is just as much of a person as she is. It makes a little more sense when you consider that “corporate personhood”-related Supreme Court decisions like Citizens United were decided by a bunch of lawyers, pretty much the furthest thing from a Jane Six-Pack — unless you mean a six-pack of Coke. Sure, corporations are people to a bunch of lawyers, because it’s the shortest possible contortion of logic that gets us to a point where we can grant corporations legal rights, describe their liability or lack thereof, and allow them to own things.
But when corporations assert that they believe things, corporate personhood gets sketchy. At best, corporations’ expressions of “belief” place them among the worst hypocrites out there, and at worst, their glaring inconsistencies threaten to break apart any notion of their personhood altogether.
To walk into a coffee shop and be told “We’re cash only,” is irksome for a number of reasons: the clerk tends to say it as though the company had been born that way or something. As though there’s an all-powerful god of payment forms, and we must do his bidding.
It’s not divine will. It’s a shortsighted business decision by often distrustful or resentful business owners. Contrary to popular belief, operating as a cash-only business is neither profitable for companies, nor beneficial for anyone in the grand scheme of things. (OK, a few companies can benefit but the way they go about it is not nice.) Here’s why it’s so bad, and what recourse you have, and in order to explain it all, I may have to bust a couple myths along the way.
When we last left off, Aaron’s had just offered a loan to a person who had explicitly detailed his problems with debt, lack of money, and lack of interest in paying for things. All through Grant’s phone call, phone operators were friendly and accommodating of the cheerful deadbeat offering to sign an Aaron’s contract.
“But they were friendly! How bad could they be, Savings? Why the campaign of negativity?”
Because, reader, it is never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever a good idea to shop at Aaron’s. If I couldn’t communicate that with my previous lengthy polemic, here’s a Buzzfeed-style listicle (I forgive you if you skimmed my intro, fellow millennials).
1. Aaron’s spied on consumers, as in “nudie pics and personal info” spying.
“[...]f the use promotes a company, product or service, the users will need to purchase a license. If not, they can use the embedded content so long as they are happy to use it in the embed frame and functionality.
The presence of ads on a site doesn’t automatically make use of an embedded image on that site a commercial use. Think about sites like CNN.com or any online newspapers or magazines which support editorial content with site ads. The key attribute in classifying use as commercial is whether the image is used to promote a business, goods or services, or to advertise something. If not, it is a non-commercial use. Likewise, corporate blogs would be treated as editorial/non-commercial unless the image is directly being used to sell or promote their products or services.”
(via flickr user julien harneis)
The Antivax movement, whose members (antivaxers) choose not to give their kids vaccines, seems to be spreading. In 2012, the CDC found that about ten percent of parents had delayed or forgone vaccinations. If exposed to an infectious disease, these unvaccinated kids could be infected with certain kinds of pneumonia, diphtheria, measles, mumps, rubella, whooping cough, tetanus, polio, and the flu, while children who have been immunized would almost never be susceptible to any of these.
Antivaxers have usually read something on the internet that convinced them. This could have been the preaching of Viera Scheibner, who believes children need more diseases. It might be because of a study by Dr. Andrew Wakefield that linked vaccines to autism until his publisher formally retracted it because there wasn’t any link, at all, whatsoever. It could be caused by fears about aluminum and formaldehyde in vaccines, despite these common “adjuvants” not being capable of harming children unless the doses are multiplied to cartoonish levels. Other antivaxers are afraid mercury is in there, which it isn’t, with one easily avoidable exception.
It’s not as hilarious as Coke’s notorious “Bite the wax tadpole!” but Aaron’s “Max Your Tax!” slogan this spring sounds equally unpalatable. The posters and commercials make clear that they ostensibly want you to maximize the value of your tax return. But it’s just as well. The misreading conveys what’ll really happen to you if you shop at Aaron’s when your check from the IRS comes.
Photo by Mike Pearl via Wikimedia Commons
This Valentines Day, if you must read one sentence about aphrodisiacs, please let it be this one: Don’t buy any so-called aphrodisiacs, and instead save your money for a nice dinner. That’s the FDA’s longstanding position, and the Mayo Clinic’s, but they’re obviously going to be boring and conservative about risks you might take. I’m much less conservative, but I agree with them completely.
The internet is a perfect machine designed to trick people into buying fake aphrodisiacs, and it’s been that way for decades. Imagine this was your first day here. If you were like most people, within seconds you would be aroused by the internet’s limitless free titillation, made insecure by a completely unfiltered flow of targeted advertising, and bombarded by deceptive spam messages offering a quick solution to your problem.
In many ways, the internet has made good on its promise to provide us with just the answers to things instantly, as with this amazing Google feature that automatically harvests information from reliable sources, and presents it in the search engine results page — my vote for Best thing Humanity has Ever Accomplished:
We all know Amazon reviews run the gamut from “insightful” to “worse than reading nothing at all,” and we can cope with the poor quality. The inane reviews lend credibility to the rest, making the good ones seem culled from a vast field of “authentic” average consumers. But thanks to some of Amazon’s sketchier practices — especially a program called “Vine Voices” — you can’t even be sure of that. Here’s a guide that should help you machete your way through the Amazon. I chose 20 reviews* and dissected them for content and other patterns.
2 out of 20, or 10 percent of the reviews I read, said “Vine Voices” next to the review. Vine is a six year-old invitation-only program for serious Amazon reviewers to smooth out their writing process by simply delivering them free swag. Yes, Vine (Which has nothing to do with the video sharing app) mails certain products to the homes of reviewers, and the reviewers agree to send the item back if requested, so it’s just borrowed, not a gift. But apparently this rarely if ever happens. In other words, a review with “Vine Voices” next to it isn’t a customer review at all.
Google published a patent last week — although they filed for it in 2011 — for a type of ad that offers you a free or discounted ride to the business that’s being advertised to you. It’ll be a big deal if this really does start showing up in banners and popups.
According to Google’s patent drawing, “transportation-aware physical advertising conversions,” will show up on your Apple Newton (left) and on a parking garage ticket kiosk (right). Or maybe the drawings just aren’t very sophisticated and the ads will show up on your phone.
I’d heard arguments against reusable bags before, but despite having been around for years, I hadn’t heard the “reusable bags jeopardize public health” argument until very recently. Now that I’ve looked into it, it’s not very compelling.
Whether it’s a dolphin-rescuing triumph, or a mistake spearheaded by wrongheaded liberals, plastic grocery bags are going the way of the dinosaurs they’re made of. Yes, extinction is still a ways off, but over sixty jurisdictions in the US have bans on the books, and more are in the works.
With each new jurisdiction to ban the bags comes a new fee structure. You now have to cough up as much as 25 cents each time you forget your bag. That can add up in the long run, especially for large families.
Obviously it’s not just a matter of personal finance. 80 million tons of the petroleum product polyethylene are manufactured every year, and its primary use is in the manufacture of disposable bags. They may or may not whiz away to the sea immediately after use, and maliciously jam themselves into the blowholes of orcas, but they do sit in landfills for perhaps a thousand years, by some estimates, or perhaps forever by others. For whatever reason, some find the environmental arguments against disposable bags unconvincing.
All arguments about whether listening counts as reading per se aside, audiobooks are awesome, and I wish I could listen to more, but until recently I felt too stymied by unnecessary limitations, and terrible value propositions to give my business to the people who create audiobooks. After some sleuthing, however I discovered tons of great ways to save money on long-form audio entertainment. In fact, since many of these are free, and some are viable alternatives to paid services, I sense a renaissance coming.
I’ve saved the best for last. Let’s start by evaluating the cheapness of the status quo:
At the moment, Audible.com is inescapable for podcast listeners. This Amazon-owned service has relentlessly advertised to audio entertainment enthusiasts for years, and by now we know the pitch by heart: “Sign up today to get a free audiobook of your choice.” But we have questions about what we actually get for signing up, and the answers aren’t very convincing.
(Theprowl.com’s main Ask and Answer section)
TheProwl.com looks a bit like Pinterest, and that may well be on purpose. Unlike Pinterest, The Prowl has a focus: its unique “Ask and Answer” section encourages you to employ the brains of others to find deals and make better fashion decisions than most mere humans with jobs and lives ever could. So while Pinterest is a great place to obsess over the infinite aspirational scroll, The Prowl is for paring down possibilities, and making a purchase. In contrast to Pinterest and related sites like The Hunt, which largely market themselves to the female demo, The Prowl’s pragmatic approach to commerce can be appreciated by the most shopping-phobic individuals of any gender.
(Photo via 401(K) 2012)
Unwanted gift cards pile up in many Americans’ sock drawers this time of year. Still, you may be surprised to learn that gift cards are the single most requested gift during the holidays, with six in ten Americans saying they’d like to receive them more than anything else. So it’s safe to assume that our collective decision to buy four percent more of them this holiday season than the last, was driven by pragmatism, and not —as gift card haters may insist— pure thoughtlessness.
If, like me, you have a stockpile of gift cards redeemable at stores that just aren’t common retail destinations for you, you might have started contemplating low-tech uses for them, like re-tiling your shower, or turning them into guitar picks. Never fear! You can extract the maximum amount of value from your gift card arsenal if you let technology be your guide.