Spit take of the morning
Teh Interwebz is a funny thing. It's an awesome tool for research, education and current events, as well as (and I wouldn't know anything about this firsthand, but so I've heard... *ahem!*) entertainment of all varieties, including (*GASP!*) porn (shhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone! I hear it's a well-kept secret.)
Well, this newly-discovered phenomenon, which affords anyone the freedom to find nearly anything they possibly desire (We once Googled "midgets on trampolines" during our CPX before deploying to Kosovo, just to see what would come up. That random search string generated 120 hits!), has consequently spawned bushels of net nanny software as a substitute for parental supervision, ostensibly to keep midgets... uh... munchkins... um... children safe from (shhhhhh!) bad words on teh Interwebz!
The software, some of which is sophisticated enough to substitute words that someone, somewhere might find offensive with more innocuous synonyms, has some glitches.
Yeah, I know I'm immature, but that really made me spew my coffee in cackling glee this morning.
I'm generally pretty good about monitoring my kids' Internet habits. I try not to pry into their business too much, but in the time-honored tradition of "trust, but verify," I do, on occasion, examine their surfing habits to ensure they're not conducting a clandestine campaign to take over the world by researching the latest methods to effectively conduct a military junta. And yes, they're smart enough, or so I've been told by several fellow smartasses. I have no idea where they could get that from (and they told me at the dinner table last night, in the most sarcastic manner possible, that they had NO IDEA how they developed their smart-alecky streaks! No, REALLY!).
I'm lucky in that aside from emailing their friends on MySpace for a short time, my kids do very little web surfing and video game playing. The Redhead is generally outside conducting Airsoft military operations with his friends or building bigger and bigger ramps from which to propel either his bike or his skateboard to heights that make me cringe, and the Teeny Bopper is generally either in the basement or at friends' houses, practicing cheerleading routines and gymnastic feats that make me close my eyes in sheer terror as she propels her little body into mid-air and somehow manages to land on her feet after performing mind-boggling, body-contorting acrobatics while airborne.
As you can imagine, bruises, scrapes and scratches are just a part of daily life at my house. So, instead of investing my hard-earned funds on net nanny software, I stock up on bandages, splints, disinfectant spray, ice packs and pressure bandages. As a military Combat Lifesaver, my First Aid kit is pretty extensive (and yes, it includes a number of 14 gauge needles, just in case there's a tension pneumothorax in the house).
I'll invest in a lot of things, and spend as much money as needed to keep my kids safe and educated, but I'm not stupid enough to think that if a piece of software blocks the word "ass," my children will a) never hear it elsewhere or b) never use it. I think it's safe to say that insulating them from something that minor is counterproductive... especially when they call me over to the computer while researching an assignment and demand to know what in the world "consbreastution" means!
Well, this newly-discovered phenomenon, which affords anyone the freedom to find nearly anything they possibly desire (We once Googled "midgets on trampolines" during our CPX before deploying to Kosovo, just to see what would come up. That random search string generated 120 hits!), has consequently spawned bushels of net nanny software as a substitute for parental supervision, ostensibly to keep midgets... uh... munchkins... um... children safe from (shhhhhh!) bad words on teh Interwebz!
The software, some of which is sophisticated enough to substitute words that someone, somewhere might find offensive with more innocuous synonyms, has some glitches.
OUCH!The American Family Association had programmed its filter to replace the word “gay” with “homosexual”, causing an article about sprinter Tyson Gay’s triumph at the US Olympic trials to begin: “Tyson Homosexual was a blur in blue, sprinting 100 meters faster than anyone ever has."
Further on in the piece the runner was referred to as “the 25-year-old Homosexual”
Yeah, I know I'm immature, but that really made me spew my coffee in cackling glee this morning.
I'm generally pretty good about monitoring my kids' Internet habits. I try not to pry into their business too much, but in the time-honored tradition of "trust, but verify," I do, on occasion, examine their surfing habits to ensure they're not conducting a clandestine campaign to take over the world by researching the latest methods to effectively conduct a military junta. And yes, they're smart enough, or so I've been told by several fellow smartasses. I have no idea where they could get that from (and they told me at the dinner table last night, in the most sarcastic manner possible, that they had NO IDEA how they developed their smart-alecky streaks! No, REALLY!).
I'm lucky in that aside from emailing their friends on MySpace for a short time, my kids do very little web surfing and video game playing. The Redhead is generally outside conducting Airsoft military operations with his friends or building bigger and bigger ramps from which to propel either his bike or his skateboard to heights that make me cringe, and the Teeny Bopper is generally either in the basement or at friends' houses, practicing cheerleading routines and gymnastic feats that make me close my eyes in sheer terror as she propels her little body into mid-air and somehow manages to land on her feet after performing mind-boggling, body-contorting acrobatics while airborne.
As you can imagine, bruises, scrapes and scratches are just a part of daily life at my house. So, instead of investing my hard-earned funds on net nanny software, I stock up on bandages, splints, disinfectant spray, ice packs and pressure bandages. As a military Combat Lifesaver, my First Aid kit is pretty extensive (and yes, it includes a number of 14 gauge needles, just in case there's a tension pneumothorax in the house).
I'll invest in a lot of things, and spend as much money as needed to keep my kids safe and educated, but I'm not stupid enough to think that if a piece of software blocks the word "ass," my children will a) never hear it elsewhere or b) never use it. I think it's safe to say that insulating them from something that minor is counterproductive... especially when they call me over to the computer while researching an assignment and demand to know what in the world "consbreastution" means!
How many times do I have to tell you that when they are on the computer, they are simply trying to set up the downfall of the world's computer systems and economy? They practice conducting the military junta when they are outside with the airsoft guns. But they look so cute in their little para-military berets...
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You don't want your kids to know how to plan a miltary junta? With your faith in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, (and I'll bet you have instilled that faith in them) I would trust your kids with one! ;o)
And, "tension pneumothorax"? is that the medical term for what we gunnies euphemistically call a"sucking chest wound?
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RJ, my kids are still little, so the junta has to be supervised.
A tension pneumothorax is a collapsed lung. Air goes in, but can't come back out, so it takes up room in the pleural cavity, pushing on the lungs and collapsing them.
A sucking chest wound is sort of the opposite. Air goes in, both through the hole in the chest and the trachea, because the pleural cavity is no longer sealed. You actually have to seal it, instead of inserting a catheter to allow the air to escape when your casualty has a tension pneumothorax.
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Well, I'll trust you to supervise the junta then. I know you'll restore the Constitution. :oD
Pneumo + thorax... Air in the chest cavity. Makes sense.
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