The Matrix has me. And I love it. It's about time.
After a record 5 month wait, I finally have internet in my house, so this has its useless time wasting advantages like facebook quizzes about which popsicle flavor/dog breed/celebrity midget are you (and then, of course, emailing your results to every single person you know) and more vital life-affirming ones, like actually being able to talk to the family without worrying about my expensive French cell phone minutes, and finding a job and an apartment for next year.
My internet/TV connection has transformed my miniture frumpy ancient rabbit-eared TV with bad reception and 3 channels on a good day into a towering and sleek digital panther who confidently roams the communications jungle and remorselessly hunts and kills the less technologically-advanced fuzzy jungle creatures struggling to make their way only with their wireless networkless antennae. In my now vast galaxy of home entertainment, I have access to every radio station known to man, Arte, the BBC and for a limited time only, Canal +, and about 15,000 other channels.
My TV now does everything short of my taxes and I feel like we're beginning a very intimate relationship, as it can serve as an alarm clock, voice mailbox, TiVo-like recorder, pay-per-view provider, fax machine, travel agent, domestic slave, and ATM machine. No, I exagerate. The TiVo probably doesn't even work.
I'm suddenly slightly afraid of all my formerly innocuous appliances and what they might now be capable of-- like what if the oven plugs in and starts operating by satelite or hooks itself up to iTunes or, even worse, to that souped-up monster truck extreme makeover television of mine and I'll have to operate it from a safe distance with an instruction manual, 2 remote controls and its own power strip.
Monday, November 24, 2008
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