When I hit the web to check sports I always stop to check the links that line up on the side of the page. Today I wandered on to the Bleacher Report and was rewarded with an ad suggesting I might be in the market for an Armenian wife. I’m not. Frankly I have no idea why the system thought I was. Perhaps it was the page. I don’t check the WWE page ever, so maybe my curiosity was seen as indicative of a deeper desire. As though wanting to know what The Rock is up to triggers a hidden subroutine designed to ferret out those seeking a certain quality of advertisement. The Rock’s sudden if-then nature aside, the moment set me to thinking about the algorithm, and now I’m wondering what mine looks like.
My Algorithm first introduced itself through a series of peculiar google search results. I noticed how my results and those from friends were different. Once I knew it was there I saw my algorithm everywhere, a digital stalker silently watching my every webpage. It followed me to NPR, snuck into my audible account, and camped out on amazon deciding what I might purchase next.
I’m going to have to come to terms with my algorithm. I need to pet it, feed it, and let it grow. This thing is a part of me now; my digital shadow.