“You’re not the King, I didn’t vote for you!” — Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Comcast Mr. Roberts,
WHAT. THE. HELL?! Do you ENJOY screwing your customers just because you can? From way down here, it would seem so.
Don’t get me wrong — logically, I think I get it. You’re not the person I should be complaining to. I’m WAY out of my league bringing this straight to the gluttonous royalty while you’re busy salivating for that holy grail of 30% market. You’ve got to manage the castle and the kingdom’s affairs, the big picture. The politics. You’ve got schmoozing and wining and dining and lobbying to do. There’s no time to bother with peons like me, beggars relegated to virtual street-side rantings against corporate injustice.
But here’s the thing: this blog post represents your real weakness, you biggest threat. Right here, right now, this complaint should matter to you. How long is that 30% going to last when the people eventually figure out how to band together and storm those walls? True, you’re probably secure for now; after all, those of us under your power likely have no choice in the matter. It’s you, or nothing. Darkness. Disconnection. I long for the days when I forsook your brutality and basked in the glory of another — a smaller, local provider that treated me with dignity and respect, and bestowed upon me its fastest speeds at an affordable price, simply because it wished to satisfy me.
I realize I’m not the first, and I sadly won’t be the last to say that I fully expect you will rue the day. You may not see it (in fact, I’m sure you cannot), and I don’t know when it will happen, but for how you’ve treated us, your paying, desperate consumers, you will RUE it. And there will be celebrations in the streets. And they will be streamed to the masses. Not on your network.
(BTW, all I wanted was a freakin’ HD cable box. Y’all sent me a basic kit, so I called and ordered an upgraded one. 3 days later, guess what arrived today? A dang modem kit. I guess I could’ve used it as a relief tool for the stress that moment caused me, and smashed it to pieces… but I’m pretty sure that would’ve cost the equivalent of my imaginary life savings, so instead I wrote you this letter you’ll never read. At least my Internet works for that… because I paid my bill, I suppose. Thumbs up. Smiley face.)