The Lone Gunmen of the FCC

I'm not a conspiracy theorist.

Normally.

I don't think aliens brought down TWA Flight 800, I'm pretty sure John F. Kennedy wasn't killed by a Chinese midget dressed as a Dallas prostitute, and I am almost entirely convinced that Michael Jackson is really dead.

I do admit that there's a very small part of me that thinks that, at his funeral, he's going to jump out of the coffin and grab his crotch, hopefully with the gloved hand.

So, while I'm not someone who runs around his neighborhood wearing a tin-foil yarmulke to keep the government transmitters from being privy to my inner monologue, I am definitely convinced that the FCC is in bed with American cable television providers, and that the two entities are engaged in a sinister and insidious plot to force people to get cable.

You recall the Digital, High-Definition Revolution of June? Remember how it was originally supposed to take place in, like February or something? Well, apparently, many Americans "weren't ready."

Right?

Horseshitty-on-a-sticky!

Not enough holdouts had procured cable television for the scheme to be worthwile. So, the FCC said, we'll wait. We'll wait you antiquated, inbred motherfuckers out. People like, oh, I don't know, YOU, MR. APRON! Yes! We'll get you, and your stupid, gray dog, too.

Well, they got me. Today, they got me.

I called Comcast today.

I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't take it anymore.

Here's a list of the television programs we consume on a regular basis:

Action News (6:42am-6:58am) - Prime morning couch cuddle time.

The Today Show (7:00am-7:14am) - Gives me shit to bitch (I mean "blog") about.

Jeopardy (7:00pm-7:25pm)

SouthLAnd (10:00pm-11:00pm)

Antiques Roadshow (8:00pm-9:00pm)

Other shows are watched on a sporadic basis, but these are our mainstays. Our bread-and-butter, if you will. Since stations switched over to Digital, our reception has been spotty at best. Spotty is never a good thing to be, whether it's inside a pair of flowery panties, whether it's your credit, criminal or employment history, or whether it's your TV reception. You can move the fucking antenna every which way until your arms fall off-- it doesn't matter. Al Roker still stops and starts and stutters and cuts in and out as if he has a stutter, cerebral palsy, Tourettes, is being censored and shaken by a paint mixer, all at the same time.

Sometimes, the reception will be just fine forty-five minutes into an hour-long episode of SouthLAnd, and then, just when the dramatic action is at its pivotal moment, I'll move my left shoulder to get more comfortable and that's it. "NO SIGNAL" floats around in a quaint little box around a totally black screen. It might as well be a graphic depiction of a middle finger being inserted over and over again into the asshole one of those pudgy, strange IKEA cartoon men. In, out, in, out-- no more TV cop drama for you shitheads!

Not until you get... cable.

Cable promises crystal clear reception. No converter boxes. No fucking rabbit ears. No worrying if the goddamn dog's movements or anal expulsions of stankair will disturb the signal.

We already have Comcast for our internet, and, on every bill it says something to the effect of, "Problems with your digital signal? Consider Comcast television for a consistently clear picture."

Yeah. Fuck you, tweettwats.

My wife and I have been avowed and smug cable television holdouts for as long as we've known each other. Neither of us has had cable television since college. I don't know what it was like for Mrs. Apron, but I used to cut classes to watch certain cases on Court TV. I was, obviously, riveted to BBC America, and I don't use the word "riveted" lightly. I actually had rivets attached to my corneas that surgically connected them to the television set when BBC America programming was on. "Father Ted," "People Like Us," "Fawlty Towers," "MPFC," etc, etc. It was awful. Then again, my best friend at the time used to cut class to play "Zelda," but his GPA was consistently higher than mine, which leads me to believe that a.) I'm stupid and b.) cable television is more detrimental than video games, except for Grand Theft Auto, which everybody knows makes kids shoot policemen in the face and run over lines of joggers while shouting "GOURAAAAANGA!"

I'm disappointed and sad that we're getting cable television. The guy's coming over Sunday between 1 and 3. It sucks. I don't want it, and I feel like I've been totally gotten by the FCC/Cablevision conspiracy, but at least there's no alien autopsy being conducted in my basement, and at least my mother's not a peapod person.

And at least I'll never have to make the cold, hard decision between Acting II and Court TV, ever again.