Today was day two of my battle against The Machines, and I think I’ve emerged victorious. However, I am licking my wounds out on the porch, because I don’t want to go anywhere near the battlefield (aka the living room) for a long time.
If you read last night’s post, you’ll know that I went to war with The Machines and only survived because the cavalry (aka Time Warner Cable Customer Service) arrived just as I was about to lose all hope and surrender.
Today, I went on the offensive as my colleague at Technical Support strongly suggested. This involved returning my ancient cable/DVR box to the Time Warner office to exchange it for a brand spanking new one.
I know what you’re thinking, Modern Philosophers. What a brave man I am for going right into the enemy’s domain and requesting a new Machine for The House on the Hill. Sure, a lesser man would’ve destroyed the old box and said goodbye to cable TV forever, but that’s not how I roll.
No, I understand that the best way to monitor The Machines is by having them in my home, allowing them to think I am under their influence, and then reporting on their weaknesses to the rest of The Resistance.
Trust me, this does not mean that I live without fear. It was with great trepidation that I disconnected the enemy I knew, and replaced it with a more technologically advanced enemy. For all I know, this new cable/DVR box has the ability to read my thoughts or kill me in my sleep. The only way to find out is my putting myself in the line of fire and doing the research. That’s how the war is won, my friends.
The directions said to plug in the box and then let it sit for 45 minutes while it downloaded information. Clearly, my adversary wanted to update its files with the intelligence that its predecessor had already compiled on me.
I waited 50 minutes, and then turned on the TV. Of course, nothing happened. Typical. The Machines wanted to establish their dominance. I get to watch television because they allow it. Whatever. I just wanted to watch the Yankees’ game, so let’s get this working.
I called Time Warner Customer Service and with the additional manpower, I was able to turn the tables in this battle. We eventually forced The Machine to give me a picture. That took about twenty minutes, but it was worth every second. Robot High Command needs to see that humans will not yield and will never surrender.
Now all we needed was sound. The Yankees’ looked great up there on the screen, but without any play by play, I couldn’t really enjoy the game.
My associate and I tried many things. I put cables in holes that I never would have imagined putting them on my own. I broke out the flashlight to get a better look at the underbelly of The Machine. I cursed a little just to confuse Robot High Command by making them think we were communicating in code.
Finally, after twenty minutes of silent baseball, I tried a wild maneuver, something a Machine would never think to do since it was so outside the box. I moved the Audio connectors from the “IN” holes to the “OUT” doohickeys.
To really rub salt in The Machines’ wounds, my friend in Customer Service taught me how to program the new remote to control both the TV and the Cable.
Who’s enslaving who now, bitches?
And so I limped away from this battle the victor, but at what price, my friends?
The Machines know I have a weakness…I’m totally clueless when it comes to technology. Sooner or later, they’re going to find a way to exploit that.
I did lose something in this fight. My only TV appearance, as a guest on The Night Show With Danny Cashman, when I was promoting The Retirement Party, was saved on the old DVR box. When I switched boxes, I lost that recording forever…
We all must make our sacrifices, Modern Philosophers, and that was mine. I guess I’ll just have to go back on TV again and record that new appearance.
That’s all from the front. I’m going to sit out here on the porch for a while and soak up some sun. Who knows how long we have until The Machines block out that forever?