The Conundrum
The Conundrum
Oh my God! Oh no, oh no! What am I going to do? Lord, have mercy on me. I’m helpless. I’m scared. Oh no, oh no!
I’m afraid that if I press the wrong button on my new remote, my TV is going to explode or something. All I want to do is turn it on so I can watch it. The instructions say that I can set the alarm clock, and I can record a show, or make the picture brighter, or hook it up to my CD player, or watch it in Spanish, or put a parental guide on it, but all I want to do is turn it on. My grandson came over to show me how to do it, but he pushed the buttons so fast, it made my head spin. I read the instructions, but now I’m even more confused.
What’s going to happen if I push the wrong button? Will it alarm the local kennel and release the killer dogs to come and get me? Will it alert the hackers to steal all my money? Will it tell the FBI to arrest me and ship me off to outer space where there’s no TV at all? Will it remove me from the intellectually capable list and not let me buy anything smart anymore? Will it demoralize me so much that I won’t even know how to watch anybody’s TV no matter whose it is? Am I a total idiot?
What shall I do? I don’t even know how to watch my TV. I’m incapable of pushing any buttons anymore. Technology is dragging me through the wilderness. I’m as lost as lost can be. Oh no, oh no, woe is me. What happened to me? I’m going mad! I’m running naked in the streets. Bi-bi-bi-bi boo, boo. Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-
