By JAKE POTTER

These days, it’s not so nerdy to peruse through the encyclopedia for pleasure.

Let me explain.

Wikipedia.org is a wonderful little gem available via the Internet—thanks, Al Gore—that has been getting Internet-savvy folks educated on everything from the Israeli-Lebanese conflict to the intricacies of Star Wars lightsaber combat. Seriously, look it up.

The site has ballooned since its conception in 2001 to include nearly 1.3 million articles in English. Though amateurs with little fact-checking background often craft the articles, one is hard-pressed these days to find glaring errors, given that so many people are logging on to the site.

Put it this way: if Encyclopaedia Britannica were Richie Cunningham, Wikipedia would be The Fonz. It’s comprehensive, hip and edgy. Your grandfather’s encyclopedia, it’s not.

Whereas the standard encyclopedia recalls the grace and elegancy of classic academia, it can also dodge important social discussion about a particular subject and its impact on the world. And don’t forget the operative word, “classic.” That book was updated a few years ago, if you’re lucky. Some guy might have just tinkered with Wikipedia over lunch at Taco Bell.

I’m somewhat disappointed with Columbus County’s various Wikipedia entries. Before I joined up with the folks here at The News Reporter, I did some snooping around on Wikipedia to find out everything I could about Whiteville.

Unfortunately, while Wikipedia is immense and sees hordes of traffic daily, most rural American towns have a standard, bare-bones entry. That probably stems from the fact that many folks’ lives are so intertwined with the town that a encyclopedia article just seems silly.

As for Whiteville’s current entry, there is some material to browse. You can delve into a demographics section that will have you remembering why you fell asleep in math class back in high school.

Yeah, I skipped that section, too.

I also found that Ward’s Grill and Joe’s Barbecue make appearances on Whiteville’s page, although the latter apparently has seen some debate as to its tastiness. I suppose the old saying that “winners write the history books” goes to the wayside when everyone gets to edit the books.

I found that Boardman, population 202, has an interesting 18-to-24-year-old demographic of less than 10 percent. Like I said, my math skills might be rusty, but that’s maybe 20 kids my age. I’ve been told the story behind the town’s name, but I have a few suspicions of my own.

My favorite part of browsing the local Wikipedia pages, though, was learning that in Whiteville, saying “Whiteville” plain-Jane was darn near heresy. Maybe it’s because I’m from a military town where accents vary among friends with regular occasion, but I have been pronouncing the name of my summer residence as “White-ville.”

Not so, says Wikipedia. Instead, it’s “Whaffle.”

Here’s the thing: no one’s corrected me on it yet. Someone solve my dilemma and give a reference on the Wikipedia page. I’d like to see local government officials declare “Whaffle” the official pronunciation. Heck, let’s put it on the water tower.

I can understand why “Whiteville” evolved into “Whaffle.” I kick around nearby Topsail Island all the time. Around there, we have an easy way of spotting the tourists—it’s all in a name. Locals know that you say “Top-sail” if you’re referring to the top sail of a ship, or if you’re an out-of-towner.

But our beloved island? No, it’s “Top-sul.” Don’t tell anybody I told you that, by the way.

I’m already embracing “Whaffle.” I was always more a fan of the pancake, but I can adapt. And it’s really indicative of the local folks—just enough drawl to let you know you’re in southeastern North Carolina, where the tea is sweet and Ward’s and Joe’s reign over the food industry.

Just don’t order any pancakes when you go.