Facebook's AI is so damn smart it has somehow figured out that I speak French. At least it is the only reasonable explanation as to why they keeps on sending me reminders in French…
So they can handle a bazillion vanity URLs in a split second, but can't deal with one person's primary language preference?
Maybe they should rename themselves Freedombook…
Heard that one on 'Les Grosses Têtes' last night…
During a campaign of archeological digs in the deep Russian North, strands of copper are found. Russian scientists proudly announce to the world that ancient Russians already had a copper telephony network.
Americans archeologists dig even deeper in American soil, and they find fragments of glass. American scientists boast to the world that ancient Americans were already equipped with an optic fiber network.
French archeologists undertake what they call the deepest digs ever in France. They unearth nothing. French scientists proudly broadcast to the world that the ancient French had WiFi.
I'd heard it before, but it still made me laugh.
Here is something to think about when negative people are doing their best to rain on your parade. Remember this story the next time someone who knows nothing (and cares less) tries to make your life miserable…
A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:
"Rome ? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome ?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it's gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump.."
"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant.
Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome .
"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.
And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were quite lucky because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.
Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh, really! What'd he say?"
He said: "Who fucked up your hair?"