The world belongs to the networks. And the networks belong to the clan Marinho. God help the world.
A follow-up to São Paulo Diary: Misadventures on the NET: I managed to talk to a [very polite] customer service representative at NET just now.
After a 20-minute wait, which in São Paulo counts as miraculously prompt.
Service in our area is out. No one has service.
Cause unknown. Urucubacas or lobishomens, maybe.
Service can often be interrupted when you have those torrential downpours and the Eletropaulo transformers in the neighborhood start LOUDLY EXPLODING.
But today there is not a cloud in the sky. The bem-te-vis are scree-screeing and the sabiás are warbling. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
ETA for getting it back up: 6 pm today.
Unlike the last time a Telefónica outsourced serviceman came to our house to look at my wife’s private aDSL line, we apparently do not have to bribe anyone to get service this time.
Why on earth the set-top box was displaying a message indicating our service had been canceled no one seems to know.
Unless cancelado has subtle meanings that I, as a non-native speaker of the fina flor de Lácio, New World version — Camões never dreamed that his Lusitanian Portuguese would one day incorporate words such as urucubaca or vix — am unaware of.