Within the last week, the NYTimes had an article about the increasing sophistication and intrusiveness of Internet cookies for tracking a web surfer’s interests and demographic characteristics — thus resulting in that web-surfer receiving specially targeted offers when they visit a shopping site. (So, for example, someone with a “bargain shopper” profile might be offered discounts at a site that a “known full-price shopper” never ever even sees….)

However subtly Orwellian the scenario spelled out in this particular article, I find myself continually amused by the more ham-handed examples of that sort of “Internet profiling.”

Like the way Facebook has been pitching me “The Wedding Diet” ever since I changed my relationship status to read “Engaged.”

I don’t think the ad shows up every time I log into Facebook — even if it did, I’m not active enough over there to see the ad often enough to really piss me off.

It just amuses me. The headless picture of some bride with a deep v-neck dress,* a skinny little waist, and a hint of enough poufy skirt to fill a whole bakery with meringue. And then the usual ad copy:

Discover how brides to be everywhere fit into your dream dress with this amazing weightless solution!

Yes, it really says “weightless” solution. And I’m not really sure how I feel about brides everywhere fitting into my dream dress. If my wedding dress is supposed to be brand spanking new when I wear it for my ceremony, do I want it to have all the travel miles from these brides “everywhere” giving the dress a test run?

Then there’s the headless blond in a strapless dress (I know she’s blond ‘cos her long hair is still visible in the shot):

This weightloss program is helping engaged women everywhere lose weight for their weddings. Will you be next?

That’s an easy one. No, I will not.

I intend to buy a dress that fits me exactly as I am, and that makes me feel lovely exactly as I am. ‘Cos I’m lucky enough to have a fiancee who loves me exactly as I am — so no diet will be required for me to be “acceptable enough” to share vows with him.

If only I knew how to tell Facebook that so they could stop wasting their time advertising useless services to me.

* Halter, really, if my eyes do not deceive.