Why Monopolies are Bad



Why Monopolies are Bad

I used to bounce back and forth between the phone company and the cable company when it came to my internet service. The competition kind of kept things honest, and while prices were never really all that low, at least one of them would be reasonable at any given point in time.

So then Time Warner Cable got bought out by Charter, and turned into Spectrum. “Oh, this is a good thing for consumers!” cried the lobbyists. Meanwhile, AT&T stopped providing phone and internet services to the area because they couldn’t find enough consumers interested in their Uverse promotions. The result? My internet jumped up from $40 to $60 a month.

Now you might be thinking, “Hey, that’s just normal price increases,” but my Dad lives 20 miles south in a neighborhood still serviced by AT&T. He and I got the EXACT SAME INTERNET PLANS AT THE SAME TIME FOR THE SAME PRICE. His is still $40 a month.

Of course you might be thinking, well maybe they just haven’t gotten around to raising your dad’s– Let me cut you off there. They jacked my rates up back in April. “Well, if you live out in the boonies—” Nope. I live in a major US city. These fuckers are price gouging a working class neighborhood that has no real alternative.

So I cancelled them, and now I download YouTube videos at work to a thumbdrive so I can watch them at home after work. I also tether my cell phone at home so I can check on various websites, but streaming video is kind of verboten because data plans aren’t cheap either.

OK, so I probably could have used this for the “Sunday Rant”, but when trying to think of an idea for a comic this week, I just couldn’t get this out of my head.

Pax,

-f2x

Why Monopolies are Bad
1 vote

The Italian Grandma

An Italian grandmother was giving directions over the phone to her grandson who was coming to visit.

“First you come to the front door of the apartments. I’m in apartment 301. There is a big panel at the front door. With your elbow, you push the number 301. I will buzz you in. Come inside, the elevator is on the right. Get in and with your elbow push the number 3. When you get out, turn left. With your elbow, ring my doorbell.”

“Grandma, that sounds easy,” said the grandson, “but why am I hitting all these buttons with my elbow?”

“What?!” exclaimed the grandma. “You weren’t thinking about coming here empty handed were you?”

The Italian Grandma
1 vote

A Secluded Monastery

There was a monastery in Europe perched high on a cliff several hundred feet in the air.

The only way to reach the monastery was to be suspended in a basket which was pulled to the top by several old monks who pulled and tugged with all their strength.

Obviously the ride up the steep cliff in that basket was terrifying. One tourist got exceedingly nervous about half-way up as he noticed that the rope by which he was suspended was old and frayed.

With a trembling voice he asked the monk who was riding with him in the basket how often they changed the rope.

The monk thought for a moment and answered brusquely, “Whenever it breaks.”

A Secluded Monastery
1 vote

Why Sharks Circle

Two great white sharks swimming in the ocean spotted survivors of a ship that had just sunk.

“Follow me son” the older father shark said to the son shark and they swam to the mass of people.

“First we swim around them a few times with just the tip of our fins showing.” And they did.

“Well done, son! Now we swim around them a few times with all of our fins showing.” And they did.

“Now we eat everybody.” And they did.

When they were both gorged, the son asked, “Dad, why didn’t we just eat them all at first? Why did we swim around and around them?”

His wise old father replied, “Because they taste better without the shit inside!”

Why Sharks Circle
1 vote

Irish Whiskey

A fellow is talking to his Irish buddy and says, “I gotta stop drinking that Irish whiskey”

“How come?” asked his friend.

“Because every Saturday night I go out and drink a fifth of the stuff, come home, make mad passionate love to the wife, wake up Sunday morning, and go to mass.”

“What’s wrong with that?” the Irishman asks. “A lot of good Irishman go out on Saturday night, drink a fifth of good Irish whiskey, come home, do the wife, and go to mass on Sunday.”

“I know,” said his friend, “but I’m Jewish.”

Irish Whiskey
1 vote