Google Search History: A Poem
2025 Quarter 2 (April, May, & June)
Inspired by Sarah Chapman on substack
Oregon school district layoffs
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Student loan recertification
Change your life chicken
Can you use little green on velvet?
Eugene public schools start end times
Summer kids activities Eugene 2025
Eugene YMCA sports
Marieta islands bird watching from yelapa
Banana Nutella pancakes
Champagne Problems lyrics
Ginny and Georgia season 3 episode 7 Reddit
Meaning of peonies in tattoos
Oregon state park yurts
Homemade brown sugar simple syrup
Our worries and our wonders, our hopes and our fears—every passing thought a quick search away. We once had to simply sit with our questions, to let curiosity linger. We consulted dictionaries and encyclopedias, thumbed through cookbooks, and sought wisdom from our grandmas, our dads, a mentor, or a pastor. We checked the liner notes of a CD case for lyrics, perused a Rick Steves guidebook for travel tips, and flipped through catalogs for inspiration. We called a theater for a recording of showtimes, experimented with a new recipe, and spot-tested a cleaner on a hidden patch of fabric. We went to the library.
Now, everything is at our fingertips. Human to computer has replaced human to human. Would we still know how to find all that information without a search engine? Would we know who to ask, or even where to begin to look?
The trade-off is clear. We have exchanged the friction of discovery for the efficiency of an answer. The journey from wonder to fulfillment has been flattened into a single line of text. The question left is not whether we can still find information without a search engine, but what becomes of us when the search itself no longer requires us to engage with the world, or with one another.