THE VAULT

Totally Not Cuil!
July 28, 2008 by The Colonel

In the future it will be known as 'taking a Cuil'.

Today, the interwebs witnessed the launch of “Cuil” (retardedly pronounced “Cool”), which many news agencies have dubbed, the “Google killer”. Why people seem to be so obsessed with which new technology is going to maim, eviscerate, and/or murderlize the current leader remains to be seen, but the masses are thirsty for tech blood. So far, the staff here at Slantmouth has counted the “Apple killer,” the “Microsoft killer,” the “iPod killer,” the “Blackberry killer,” and finally, the “iPhone killer”. One would figure at least one of these things would involve chopping up hobos, but we remain truly disappointed.

Here at Slantmouth, we gauge new technologies like we gauge most things: how important are we to them? Obviously, like most giant, faceless conglomerates, for us, it’s not so much, “What have you done for me?” it’s more, “What have you done for me lately?” With Google, we can answer this question with a simple search. What is the answer? Top two. Yahoo? Top two. Hell, even MSN! Top two. Naturally, after all of this sweet, search engine love, we’re feeling pretty sexy. But how has Cuil ranked Slantmouth, with her searchy sugar?

She doesn’t. She grabs our Twitter feed.

Not even the freaking index. Even when we search for “slantmouth.com”. Bitch!

How do you think that makes us feel? The new pretty girl in town comes courting all the fellas, and she barely gives us a glance. Sure, she says she can find the best results out of more than 120 billion pages, but she’s missing the quality that is Slantmouth. What’d we ever do to her?

Unfortunately, much like the pretty new girl in school, when you start to have a conversation with her, it turns out she’s not so bright. We searched for something simple—her name. Search for “Cuil” and she stands there, staring blankly at you for 40 seconds, drool seeping from her malformed jaw. When a mere twinkle of what we can only assume is life blinks across her eyes, one answer, then two, and so on lazily drone out of her face, and it’s clear she’s still wracking her brains about it. Sure, she’s staring back at you with those jet black eyes and sexy results, but you get the impression she should be wearing a football helmet.

Keep in mind that this is when she actually feels inclined to talk back to you. Most of the time, the conversation goes something like:

“Hey, Cuil, I’m interested in swordfish.”
“No results found! DOES NOT COMPUTE!”
“So, seriously, show me something about swordfish.”
“HEY! I found something, and it’s all about that awesome Hugh Jackman picture!”
“Damn it, no! Like the fish!”
“Sorry, I suck. My brain can’t process all this crap right now.”

It’s like she means well, just doesn’t have the cognitive capacity to actually make her useful. So, until she reads up on some book learning, we’re going to go back to our old, reliable mistress, Google.

Sure, she may not be the prettiest belle at the ball, but she doesn’t fuss too much and she knows what we like. Results.

~The Colonel