Popped Out

Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act, between the conception and the creation, between the emotion and the response, falls the Pop-Up.

 No sooner do I begin reading a news or informational website than the words I am reading disappear under the sudden blot of a pop-up.  The rude wiggling ad or automatic mini-video screen at the margins are distracting enough, but the pop-up is a total interruption and thorough disorientation.

 It’s an ad, a plea for subscription or donation, or more often these days, an opportunity in the form of a visual demand screaming in your face to sign up for one newsletter or another.  Everybody has newsletters now, it’s the latest way to get your email and pile it high with opportunities in the form of spam until you hardly bother to check it anymore.

 Meanwhile you’ve lost the continuity of whatever you were reading.  And on many sites it doesn’t stop there. A pop-up totally obscuring the text may itself soon be obliterated by another pop-up.  That’s after the ad or message at the top of the page expands until you remove it to read the text, while a message below the text expands upwards, effectively squeezing what you’re reading into three or four visible lines.

 This is of course assuming you can get any text at all, without subscribing or registering or becoming a member or whatever.  But even a subscription or a membership won’t necessarily free you.  There are Levels to these things now.  The start page New York Times for instance has at least four categories (consumer guides, food, most sports, and games) that require additional payments beyond a mere subscription.  On other sites there are levels of membership privileges. 

 But along with your subscription comes cookies (and therefore the possibility if not the certainty of tracking) to “enhance your experience” and spy on you for profit. And more spam.

 What I’ve learned along the way is that a lot of those stories I clicked on aren’t really worth the trouble. There’s a lot of eye-catching “content” out there but precious little substance.  Sometimes a pop-up breaking the trance will help me realize I’ve been duped, I’m wasting my time.  So thanks a lot, I’m gone.