The Day the Cable Box Died

Dear Cable Box,

I didn't tell you how I felt while you are alive, and now I regret it sincerely. I can only hope that you'll get this message in your electronic afterlife. I pray that "deus ex machina" is more than just a philosophical turn of phrase.

I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me over the years. You were always there when I needed you. Without you and your ubiquitous advertisements, I wouldn't have known which products to buy to make me so popular and handsome. Without your 24-hour news channels and their 60-second , pre-digested segments, I wouldn't have known what opinions to hold about events happening in my world. With you in my life, I hardly needed to think at all.

Now, instead of sitting comfortably in the den surrounded by pillows and snacks, I am forced to interact with other people. I can no longer live my life through a 52-inch, high-definition, Dolby THX-enhanced window. This three dimensional reality sucks... and I can't even get the good parts On Demand.

In the end, words simply cannot express my gratitude for all that you've done, nor my sorrow because you've passed. Of course, you are not truly gone forever. Though the electrons have ceased to flow through your circuits, your spirit will live on through my quiescence and apathy. The cable box is dead, long live cable box!



P.S. Never mind, the cable company is replacing you on Monday.