this is the second time in four of five months i've been convinced my television feed has stopped working. only to figure out days or weeks later that i'd accidentally switched the station on the set and interrupted the signal from the receiver box. i sat on the hardwood floor in my socks and underwear the other night pulling and plugging the cords coming out of the back. screaming obscenities at the plastic case with no arms or ears or face. text messaging my best friend about the fallibility of human kindness and coaxial cable. now, with the black box spilling pictures and sound into the confines of this small dark room. i've realized there's nothing on. these strange universal reminders that we're not missing anything. and nothing is missing us.