Following on from the disturbing search-engine-usage investigation that was Exterminate! Part 1, I present further proof that mankind is doomed. Sadly, this is no exaggeration – my Doom SirenTM is not stuck on max. This is a statement of fact.
While performing my research, I found the the funny Google searches people perform on a regular basis amusing at first glance. They made me chuckle, giggle, laugh and, on occasion, tested my bladder control.
But hindsight has made me weep with hopelessness. The people who make these searches are human. They breathe the same air as you and I. They belong to our species. Not only that, they make up the majority of our population.
“No,” you cry, “no, that’s not possible.”
It is, ladies and gents, it most certainly is. If they didn’t the searches below would not be presented by Google for everyone to see. Google tries to be useful. It shows us the things people search for THE MOST.
Why We Should Be Very Scared Indeed
There are aliens out there. Oh yes – billions of them. Why don’t we see them? Because they’ve studied us from afar and decided not to drop in for a cuppa. Would you want to engage with a species who ask questions like this?
No, me neither.
However, one day a less forgiving species of aliens, like the Daleks, will decide to drop in for a cuppa. – a cuppa filled with Die Humans JuiceTM – which will put us out of our misery. It’s inevitable. Earth is a planet filled with natural resource. Why should a species who spend their time asking questions so disturbing be allowed to call it their own?
I can think of no rational argument.
Imagine you’re an alien and that you have a big red FIRE button in your spaceship. Said button will unleash the fiery wrath of annihilation on any living thing in a million mile radius. Now read the Google search results below and tell me you wouldn’t fire on the ‘oh so special’ life forms that ask them.
Why Does My…?
Let’s start with family, friends and other people related searches.
By now, if I were an omnipotent alien, my hand would be hovering over the ‘FIRE’ button. Just to be sure, I’d check a few possible medical searches…
And thus the hovering of the fingers above the button would cease. I’d be frantically hammering the bloody thing, screaming, ‘Kill, kill them all!!’ in utter despair, before I had the chance to read anymore of this inane mentalness*.
* a real word meaning ‘mad as a trout with a kidney infection’