Current mood:

irritated

Amazon.com. A jungle of unsegregated cluelessness.
Today's nutkick is dedicated to Amazon.com.

Ah, Amazon. How I love your virtual jungle of producty goodness. Say it with me now, Amazon. Amazon.com. Amazon.cahhhhhm.

Amazon's one of those amazing sites that really showcases both the greatness and the raw, unbridled crapness of the web.

On the greatness side, they have an incredible selection of producty goodness, they ship to just about anywhere on the planet, and they let you review any of their products from just about anywhere else. If you want to buy Saddam Hussein's book on "Social and foreign affairs in Iraq" or a French version of his "Some-Poor-Bastard-I-Killed and the King", you can get it at Amazon.com. (But buy now, because they're almost out of stock. Except in Hell.) If you were some poor Iraqi trapped in a bombed-to-fucking-Jesus zone (pretty much the only zone in Iraq where Jesus might have been allowed), then you could have reviewed Saddam's lame-ass opuses (not to be confused with the penguin) anonymously on Amazon.com. You know, if you could find a working modem in the bombed-to-fucking-Jesus zone.

And in these respects, Amazon has become one of the most democratizing commercial ventures in history. No matter where you live, you can get a copy of pretty much any text, or get just about any other product, from a robotic vacuum cleaner to a really hardcore frying pan. And, you know, I'll bet there are folks all over the Ozarks who'd just love to smack Paris Hilton upside the head with a really hardcore frying pan, if only the local Wal-mart stocked it, and who, struggling in vain to find that one true Hilton-head-worthy frying pan through conventional means, finally turned to their computers, surfed their way across Amazon's field of frying pans, and finding our favorite one cried out "Dang! That's really pricey!"

But, if they could have afforded to shell out a hundred and fifty bucks for a frying pan, Amazon.com would have been pretty darn democratizing at that moment. Of course, our Ozarkian cousins could, without cost, write a review of the frying pan, perhaps even declaiming its counter-proletarian price, and that'd be pretty democratizing. Perhaps that's really where the review claiming to be from Menlo Park came from ("Yep, this is a big pan. But when you need something this big, nothing is better that we've tried."). Or they could add it to their Amazon Wishlists, with a fervent plea to arm them for the upside-the-head-smacking of Paris, Lady of Blights, and that would have been democratizing too.

But we've already gone a few paragraphs without kicking Amazon.com in the nuts, so it's time to discuss its downsides.

I could say that Amazon.com is a shining exemplar of the overhyping of Internet stocks. But it's not really that shiny. Amazon soared, crashed, and has now been soaring again on the rebound (unlike Britney Spears) for quite a while. Did Amazon's stock price really deserve to triple between January and October 2003? Of course not. But that's why mutual fund managers deserve to be kicked repeatedly in the nuts until even Martha Stewart no longer seems attractive to them. (Yes, I know that that "even" is wrong on a good many levels, but so's your average mutual fund manager. Suck my Blodget.)

But that's not what's pissing me off right now.

I could also say that Amazon's lack of a phone number for customer service is absurd. Like, a couple months ago, I ordered the Extended Edition of the Two Towers, and it arrived scratched and skippy, like a peanut butter without the smooth. So there I am, riveted at the walls of Helm's Deep, and the elves have just arrived, and the orcs are just about to unleash all of Saruman's whoopass, and tension's at its peak, and the fucking movie pauses. And I'm like "Fucking bastard sonuvabitch!" And then it starts up again and Gimli goes "You could've picked a better spot." And I'm like "Yeah! Like when Galadriel goes nuclear and shit in Fellowship! You could have paused th-- Hey! What the fuck?! It's skipping again?! It's skipping again?!" And then it skips and stutters through a shitload of scenes, until Treebeard howls out in despair and rage and says "There is no curse in Entish, Elvish, or the Tongues of Men to describe this treachery." and with that, my DVD player emitted an unhappy wheeze and ejected the disc. And I'm like "AMAZON! A DOTCOM SHOULD KNOW BETTER! You goblin-ramming hobbit-fuckers!" And I lept from the couch and sprinted upstairs to go online--like Aragorn when he sees that the beacons are lit and Gondor calls for aid--and find Amazon's customer service number and utter a great string of unholy epithets upon them.

But there was no frigging phone number, so I had to put that in writing instead. And it took them like a day and a half to respond. By shipping me a new disc. Via UPS. You know, "UPS. When it absolutely, positively has to get there tomorrow. But you kinda don't give a fuck." Also known as "Brown. Because other colors connote a quality other than ass." So, it was UPS 2nd day air, which actually means "UPS 2nd business day air, so, you know, we don't count holidays, weekends, or days on which we don't really feel like being busy." It shipped out on a Tuesday. And arrived the following Monday. At someone else's door.

But that's not what's pissing me off right now. That's what was pissing me off last month.

No, what's pissing me off right now is, ironically, one of the things that I usually find admirable about Amazon.com. And that's that they let pretty much any fucker with web access review any product, regardless of race, gender, socio-economic status, or clue. It's that last bit that bothers me. For better or worse, I am a clue bigot. I'm not saying I want clue-only schools or anything. I mean, somebody has to create the bottom of the curve.

But I would like clue-only reviews.

Now there's an extent to which Amazon does segregate its reviews by clue, in that you can say whether or not a review is helpful to you or not, and then sort reviews in order of inverse helplessness. And that sort of works, inasmuch as raters of helpfulness are not, themselves, devoid of clue.

But there are a couple ways in which this rating system breaks down even when our fellow helpfulness meta-raters aren't witless putzes, and they're both Amazon's fault.

The first, and this came up with that Extended Edition DVD, is that Amazon allows people to review products before they actually exist. Like, I don't know how many hundreds of reviews were available on Amazon.com for the Extended Edition of the Two Towers before it came out, but I kinda wanted to look up those reviewers' wishlists, buy them something really cheap, use UPS tracking to figure out where they lived, and send them a lifetime supply of whale feces. Or at least one of these postcards.

That might seem harsh, and it is, but there's a reason why this blog is called kickeminthenuts. Several reasons, actually. And among them are the many clueless fucks who felt the need to review The Two Towers a year before it was even released to theaters. Yes, that's right, Amazon has a review of The Two Towers theatrical release by William-Charles Wenham of Oshkosh, Wisconsin, dated January 13, 2002. Basically, he loved Fellowship even though he hadn't read any of the books (Bad Oshkosh-dweller! No B'gosh!), so he had decided not to read any of the books because he didn't want to ruin the experience of seeing the second movie. That's his fucking review of The Two Towers. Fellowship rocked, so I'm not reading the books. Siskel is truly dead, but this counter-clueletarian fuckwit's review probably flipped him in his grave like a disrespected pancake. If you're reading this right now, and you're within nut-kicking distance of Oshkosh, Wisconsin, go find Billy-Chuck Wenham and kick him in the nuts until he updates his fucking review. Then get him to put Clue on his fucking wishlist so somebody can buy him one. Same for "Erik" of Boston, whose review "The trailer was amazing!" has not been updated since March 31, 2002.

And, while we're at it, if you happen to bump into Jeff Bezos on your way to Oshkosh or Boston (in which case you're probably quite lost unless you're coming from Asia or decided to take the long way 'round the planet from Europe) feel free to kick him in the nuts, too. Is it that fucking hard to disable the "click here to review this item" link until the item actually fucking exists? I mean, we're talking about a company that can ship millions of copies of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix so that they arrive all over the planet on the same fucking day. You can't hide one measly fucking link? Save your testicles and hire a programmer, you over-touted monstersucker.

But that's not exactly what's pissing me off right now.

It's also a bit upsetting that 14 people declared Billy-Chuck's review "helpful", making him the 48,571st most revered reviewer on Amazon.com, which might sound pitiful until you realize that the fucking brilliant review over here was written by a guy ranked #124,232. (The world is not completely insane, however. In fairness, Billy-Chuck's other reviews aren't completely devoid of clue. More importantly, our trailer-loving laddie of Boston is ranked #308,437. Fuckwit. (Not to be confused with Figwit.))

But that's still not quite what's pissing me off right now either. (Although if you happen to bump into Jeff Bezos, do feel free to kick him in the nuts for it.)

No, what's really pissing me off at this precise moment is that Amazon insists on showing you reviews of "alternate" versions or options for whatever it is you're looking for. Now, maybe that makes sense if you're thinking of buying a paperback and there are only reviews of the hardcover release. But does Amazon really think that Billy-Chuck's review of the theatrical release of The Two Towers (Fellowship rocked. I'm afraid to read the books.) is going to help me figure out whether the Extended Version is worth buying? Even if Billy-Chuck's review had had any clue at all, if I want to decide between Version A or Version B, why put the Version A reviews on the Version B page? Why? Why, dammit, why? Why do you taunt my browser so?

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "You stupid fuck. You should buy both versions of The Two Towers because they rock." And I did. And if you didn't, you should kick yourself in the nuts and then go buy the damn DVD's.

But things begin to get a little bit more complicated when we're not talking about Peter Jackson movies.

For example, consider the Farberware Classic Series 2-Quart Saucepan with Double Boiler Insert and Lid, or try to, you poor review-pelted bastard. There you are, trying to figure out whether this is the One True Double Boiler for which your chocolate has ever been destined, when you read this incredible recommendation: "When nothing less than 4 gallons of gumbo will do...". It's also apparently good for "Four gallons of chili, mhm..." and "if you are not inclined as to boil live animals, this pot is great for stews, soups, and chili."

Now, when I read this, I thought "Holy shit! FOUR FUCKING GALLONS OF MELTED CHOCOLATE!!!!!! I wonder how many live animals I could boil in that!" But I'm a sick and twisted son of a bitch. You, in contrast, are presumably normal, and are reading this blog solely to avoid being kicked in the nuts. And you, gentle, timid reader, asked a different question: "What kind of sick son of a bitch makes four gallons of gumbo?" But that question's just wrong, and you should be ashamed of yourself.

The correct question, you Trebek-loving freak, was "How can those sick fucks boil four gallons of live animal gumbo in a 2-quart saucepan?" And the answer is, "By buying the fucking 16-quart stockpot they're actually reviewing, for their reviews were snatched from that item's page, a page where boiling live animal gumbo is just fine and dandy, and they were unjustly smacked down upon this innocent 2-quart double boiler page, where the boiling of live animals seems grossly gross and decidedly unchocolatey." Other "reviews" on the double boiler are actually about crappy knives, a 15-piece cooking set (which looks like a decent deal), and the lamented lack of the stainless steel frying pans once purchased in the reviewer's bygone youth.

Of the 22 "reviews" on the double boiler's page, only five are actually about the double boiler. Of these, three are worth reading, one simply cries out "All I have to say, is TAMALES!!!! this is the pot that'll cook em... hehehehe." and the last starts out with the ever-endearing "Although I do not own the double boiler yet (it is on my wish list)" and then proceeds to review something else. So, in total, three or four out of 22 reviews were worth putting on the page, and eighteen could have been weeded out if Amazon simply asked the user whether they owned the fucking product, or (in 17 out of 18 cases anyway) just allowed the reader to screen out reviews of "alternate" options.

By the way, on what planet, what fucking planet of diabolically balrog-heated cutlery, is a fucking utensil carousel an "alternate option" for a double boiler? When's the last time you melted chocolate with a fucking pair of scissors? Or did Farberware sneak in the fearsome Pasta Server of Morgoth with its otherwise unremarkable cutlery and carouselry? When, I ask you, did Amazon.com's cutlery selection go Salvador Dali, and, more importantly, is the acid they must be taking eligible for super saver shipping?

In any event, at this point in my culinary shopping, I'm torn between two products: the Farberware Classic Series 2-Quart Saucepan with Double Boiler Insert and Lid that's just right for making four gallons of live animal gumbo and the Nordicware Double Boiler that makes fantastic blintzes but gets mixed reviews as a cooling rack.

And for this confusion, I blame Jeff Bezos. So, if you happen to see Mr. Bezos, please kick him repeatedly in the nuts. Kick him in the nuts until he is as sterile as the operating room in which his testicles would be surgically reattached were they not destined for stewing in four gallons of live animal gumbo. Then make four gallons of Bezos-balls-and-Billy-Chuck gumbo in the 2-quart double boiler of your choice, and serve it to whatever Amazon.commie bastard thinks you can melt chocolate with a plastic revolving carousel and a spoon. Clearly, he's smoked enough pot to be pretty darn hungry by now.