Dear Wiki, my love. We’ve been apart for a full 9 minutes now, and already your absence is too much to bear. I feel that a swift return to the warm embrace of your domain is inevitable.
How much you fulfill me, how perfect a match are we? It seems I don’t know the man I was before we became one. I look back at my history and wonder how I ever functioned without you in my life.
Oh how you stimulate. Where else could one find, in the span of 15 minutes, comprehensive summaries of ideas as varied as neotny, quantum entanglement, and coprophagia?
What other companion could I arouse from it’s slumber, troubled by a throbbing question about the origins of the Shangri-La myth, and who would then drop everything to quickly satisfy me?
Oh yes, there are naysayers that claim that relying on you for fulfillment isn’t good for me, that since you’re a user-edited resource, you’re prone to bias and can be inaccurate. However, as is often the case, these people are just repeating an idea they heard somewhere without doing any critical thinking on the matter.
I’m sure most of them are unaware of the study published in ‘Nature’, one of the world’s foremost peer-reviewed science journals, that found you and Encyclopedia Britannica to have the same prevalence of errors, seeming to make you as good a casual resource for information as any on earth.
And I doubt that they’ve heard the endorsements I have. Many a pre-eminent expert in a variety of fields, when reviewing articles on their area of expertise, express shock at how comprehensive and accurate you really are.
I’m certain you’re not incorruptible, and as any good skeptic must, I keep my mind open and critically examine any information you tell me.
Nobody’s perfect, and I assume the same must be true for you. But love is blind to such things.