Miklos
« Je donne mon avis non comme bon mais comme mien. » — Michel de Montaigne

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J’entre ce matin au BHV côté rue du Temple.

Devant aller au 6^e étage, j’appelle l’ascenseur. Il ne vient pas. Au bout d’un moment, une employée me dit qu’il est en panne. Je demande, « Pourquoi n’est-ce pas indiqué ? ». Réponse : « C’est comme ça. Il y a un escalator au milieu ou un autre ascenseur au fond du magasin. »

Je prends l’escalator. Au 2^e étage, il est bloqué : panne.

Je vais prendre l’ascenseur au bout du magasin. Il y a deux cabines, j’en appelle une. Elle ne vient pas. Au bout d’un moment, une employée me dit qu’elle est en panne. Je demande, « Pourquoi n’est-ce pas indiqué ? ». Réponse : « C’est comme ça. »

J’appelle le dernier ascenseur. Il arrive, je le prends. Entre le 4^e et le 5^e, puis entre le 5^e et le 6^e, il s’arrête brusquement, avec un bruit violent (et repart). Inutile de préciser qu’une partie des quelques passagers panique.

Arrivé au 6^e, je le signale à une employée. Elle me dit que ça aurait bien plus d’effet si j’allais le signaler au service client, au 5^e. J’y vais (pas en ascenseur, ça m’a suffit).

Je décris le tout au service client. L’employée semble trouver cela banal (voire normal), genre, « C’est comme ça », et précise « Je le ferai remonter. » Entre nous, ni l’ascenseur ni l’escalator n’ayant été capables de (re)monter, je doute que cela ait un quelconque effet.

Je n’ai jamais vu tellement de pannes au BHV ni un personnel si indifférent aux problèmes que les clients peuvent avoir.

À éviter, dorénavant.

ChatGPT

«
While everyone else swears by a Spelling Bee start to their day, I’m here to give you a reality check: this game is not the brain-boosting, vocabulary-expanding exercise you think it is. In fact, it may be costing you valuable hours, reducing your ability to form coherent thoughts, and possibly even stunting your linguistic growth.

1. The Panic of the Unreachable Genius Level

The Spelling Bee, for all its innocent buzz, has a nasty little secret: it’s designed to make you feel less smart. Each day, you start off full of hope, shuffling letters with high expectations, only to see that dreaded “Good” or “Great” ranking after fifteen minutes of dedicated searching. These deceptively polite ratings hide a much harsher message: You are not a genius. Instead, you’re just another sad wordsmith, trapped in a grid of mediocrity.

2. Descent into Vowel Madness

For most, spelling words out of scattered letters sounds like innocent fun. But let’s talk about the disturbing effect that a half-hour search for a seven-letter word has on your psyche. The moment you’ve typed “BEZEL,” “GAGGLE,” and “ZEBRA” for the hundredth time, you start to wonder: am I losing my mind? You see words that aren’t even there (is gazogee a word?), and the English language starts to break down before your eyes. Long-time players report symptoms of what I’ve coined “Spelling Bee Psychosis,” a condition characterized by obsessive letter rearrangement and hallucinations of phantom vowels.

3. The Black Hole of Time Wasting

You could be journaling, meditating, or reading an actual book. Instead, here you are, finding yet another three-letter word that starts with a “B.” You tell yourself you’ll play for ten minutes. Suddenly, an hour has slipped by, and you’re late for work, have forgotten to feed the cat, and are fairly sure you’ve lost touch with reality. The Spelling Bee preys on the time-starved and the hopeful, siphoning minutes and hours until you realize you’ve accomplished nothing but mental exhaustion.

4. Zero Practical Application in Real Life

When, exactly, is anyone ever going to need to form words like “gazebo” or “bozzle” on demand? As far as I know, the ability to generate obscure words at will has yet to get anyone out of a bind or onto the bestseller list. Even worse, after playing long enough, you might start introducing “pangrams” into everyday conversations. Don’t be surprised if people start looking at you funny when you ask if « panogram » is a real word and try to slip “zaggle” into your next team meeting.

5. Ultimate Proof of Pointlessness: The Queen Bee Status

Ah, the coveted “Queen Bee” title—this is the goal, they say, the pinnacle of word-building genius. But what is it, really? A hollow, ephemeral badge you’ll forget by lunch. Queen Bees don’t get special parking spots, more friends, or extra hours in the day. No, all they have is the knowledge that they found every possible word from a pile of random letters—a feat that, while impressive, will not likely appear on any resume, nor will it contribute in any meaningful way to personal growth or, frankly, human civilization.

In conclusion, let’s be real: the New York Times Spelling Bee might be the most glamorous way to waste your morning. It doesn’t make you smarter or sharper; it mostly just makes you late. So, tomorrow morning, »maybe skip the Bee. Reclaim your time and save your sanity. Or go ahead, get sucked in again—but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

– ChatGPT
 

Les illustrations, rajoutées pour cette publication en ligne, sont le fruit de Miklos.

«If you’ve been ignoring the New York Times Spelling Bee every morning, thinking it’s “just a game,” I’m here to correct you—and possibly save your life. Mounting “evidence” (which I have generously compiled from a rigorous examination of my own mind and a few conveniently-timed epiphanies) suggests that this daily word puzzle is far more than mere entertainment; it’s nothing short of vital to human survival, happiness, and perhaps even to universal balance.

1. Sharper Minds, Sharper Lives

Playing Spelling Bee has been found (by me) to stimulate the brain’s highly complex “panogram” cortex, a recently discovered region that, for reasons that science is working very hard to validate, fires up only during attempts to create seven-letter words using an awkward collection of letters. This exercise leads to the release of Lexiconase, a hormone associated with immediate genius-level vocabulary and unmatched wit. Participants in my very selective “study” reported feeling smarter, quicker, and suspiciously more humble after achieving Queen Bee status.

2. Unmatched Mental Clarity

The buzzword in the self-care world is “mindfulness,” and what better way to find inner peace than by obsessively rearranging letters until your spouse, children, or coworkers gently remind you that it’s time to get back to reality? Spelling Bee allows you to center your thoughts on words like “gazebo” or “zigzag” rather than on your looming deadlines or existential dread. According to my “research” (read: personal anecdote), Spelling Bee players report a Zen-like calm, much like that experienced by monks—but with more vowels and the occasional consonant cluster.

3. The Social Buzz

Research has also shown (in my social circle) that nothing binds people together like gathering around to throw out possible words with the letter “Q” in them. It’s the modern-day equivalent of sitting around a fire telling stories, except now the fire is a shared phone screen, and the stories are increasingly desperate attempts to reach “Genius” level. Spelling Bee is the glue that holds relationships together, creating unbreakable bonds as families come to understand the simple joy of shouting “BEZEL!” or “BOGGLE!” in unison.

4. A Lifelong Pursuit of Glory

Achieving “Queen Bee” status releases endorphins so powerful that neuroscientists (OK, fine, I just imagine this) believe it’s comparable to the endorphin rush of running a marathon. The beauty of the Spelling Bee lies in its addictive allure: no matter how many times you achieve the coveted “Genius” ranking, you know that tomorrow morning, there will be a new batch of letters to conquer. This elusive, ever-renewing challenge is what keeps the human spirit alive. Plus, it’s a whole lot easier on the knees than marathon running.

5. The Secret to Longevity?

This may be a wild hypothesis, but I’ve noticed that people who play the Spelling Bee regularly often look suspiciously vibrant. It may not yet be proven, but there is absolutely nothing in the medical literature to suggest that it doesn’t enhance lifespan by at least a few decades. Who am I to deny the possibility that a commitment to seven-letter words might just be the secret to human endurance?

In conclusion, I must advise you to start playing Spelling Bee. It will make you smarter, happier, and, if my untested »theories are correct, virtually immortal. Start your morning with the buzz—don’t be surprised if you find yourself living your best life, possibly forever.

– ChatGPT
 

Les illustrations, rajoutées pour cette publication en ligne, sont le fruit de Miklos.