Hi. My name is Misty, and I’m addicted to YouTube.
I am well aware of how far behind I am. The whole world discovered the wonder of YouTube hundreds of years ago, but I have just now caught on.
It all started innocently enough. I was at work. I think it was raining that day. One of the reporters popped her head in my office. “Hey, you’ve seen [insert obscure YouTube reference here], right?”
She phrased the question in such a way that clearly the only answer was yes because the whole universe has obviously seen this particular clip. But for me, Miss Still Lives in 1996, I didn’t know what she was talking about.
So to relieve me of my ignorance, she pulled up the YouTube video.
That was the first step in a series of many that led to us sharing ridiculous videos we’ve discovered on YouTube. For her, she’s shown me a lot of the classics that I should have known about a decade or so ago. I’m the queen of digging up really dumb, really old stuff.
My personal favorite has been a golden nugget from a ‘70s workout video. Clearly someone played the VHS (no way this was on DVD) and shot the video of the TV screen. The quality is horrible, but the content is priceless. It’s these moments of awesomeness that are fueling my addiction.
Now, I should point out that I knew what YouTube was and have used it before — I’m not that far behind the times. But I have never been the voracious viewer I am now. Hours of my life have been wasted.
I was sitting at home the other night, trolling the Internet. I was making the rounds on my favorite blogs when something distracted me to YouTube. I went from reading an analysis of the Syrian conflict to watching people pop balloons in super slow motion. How does that happen?
I’ll tell you how. It’s that evil right rail of “related” videos. You’re watching a video and something in that pesky rail sparks your interest. You click on it, then another cool sounding video appears.
Then you click on it, and another cool sounding video appears.
Before you know it, you’re in the rabbit hole watching what happens when you drop a gummy bear in potassium chlorate.
It’s really messed up, just for the record. You should check it out.
Granted, I have seen some pretty cool stuff since this addiction has taken hold of me, but I’ve also seen some seriously stupid stuff that I would pay good money to unsee.
So even though I’ve only been addicted for a short time, I’m already looking for a 12-step program to help me out of this predicament I’ve found myself in.
I need my brain back.
Misty Knisely, managing editor, can be reached at 574-732-5155 or via email at firstname.lastname@example.org. Follow her on Twitter @PharosMK