Domain Game

As you’ve perhaps heard, institutions in Saskatchewan and elsewhere have been busy lately buying up newly created X-rated domain names tied to their name to thwart porn operators who strive to increase traffic to their own sordid sites by sowing seeds of URL confusion on the Internet.

According to this Leader-Post report, the Vatican got scammed that way when some unknown person purchased vatican.xxx. To avoid suffering the same fate, both the University of Saskatchewan and City of Saskatoon have purchased xxx domain names that include common search terms used to access their legit websites.

Out of curiosity, I decided to see if anyone had tried to pull the same trick with prairie dog. Now I don’t consider myself to be a prude, but what popped up when I typed  www.prairiedogmag.xxx was undoubtedly the most vile and digusting thing I have ever seen. Access the site if you dare. But be prepared to be truly grossed out.

Making Sex Ed More Fun!

A video game about battling STDs and burst condoms. And it’s called Privates (tee hee). The trailer below is safe for work unless you work somewhere especially uptight.

Privates is from Zombie Cow Studios, authors of the very well regarded adventure games, Ben There, Dan That and Time Gentlemen, Please. You can also read more about Privates at the Guardian‘s website.

So, everybody gets a look

When I attended the U of R, the lineup of drunks photocopying their body parts on the Students’ Union photocopiers during buck-a-draft night got so extensive that business manager Dwight Keen finally put up a sign: “WARNING; photocopying your genitals can lead to sterility and impotence.”

Well, according to this CBS story, it could cause a lot more. Newer photocopiers, that contain hard drives, retain a lot of information that is supposed to be secret …

hat tip to Crooks and Liars.

No Cable Causes Chaos

During a recent, brief stint working at one of the better cable companies here in Regina, I encountered a moment of confusion and despair.

Amid wind storms that swept through the province late last week, we were inundated with calls from customers disgruntled at the trouble in connection. What was disturbing was the number of people who implied this was a tragedy. My colleagues and I had customers ask us in all seriousness what they were supposed to do now that there wasn’t any TV. These callers did not sound like people who were ill, or could, for whatever reason, do little else than watch television. It appeared they had resigned themselves to being this way. I suggested reading a book, putting on their favourite music or (novel idea) talking to family members and friends as ways to pass the time. These suggestions were met with a) laughter (followed by “not funny”), b) swearing, or c) a simple hang up of the phone.

What has the world come to when cable TV is as necessary a family staple as bread? When taken away from us we turn into angry, irrational children, demanding this vital artery of our existence be switched back on immediately, as though someone has pulled the plug on a life support machine? Is there any hope for us, when people are needing to be told how to go on living without this big, rectangle box? A service that is in actual fact a privilege is somehow being demanded as a right, like so many other ‘things’ we have grown tenaciously possessive of.