Who Run Bartertown?

This is the question that Auntie Entity asks while trying to enlist the help of the raggedy man, the artist formerly known as Mad Max. In a world that includes the concept of Thunderdome, in which two men enter and one man leaves, control is a very big issue. This may have something to do with all of Mel Gibson's subsequent problems with authority, but it also says a lot about our larger societal issues with those who run things.
A couple weeks ago, I was awakened to the bottom line of my cable television bill. Along with access to the Internet and phone privileges, I was paying nearly two hundred dollars to watch TV. At first blush, this seemed about right to me. I love my TV. I watch a lot of TV. I am exactly the target for those campaigns that want to get me more choices to watch more TV. And I want them in high definition.
Then I thought about it a little more. On that same TV that I have been watching so tenaciously for all these years, I have been witness to the low introductory rates offered by the very same company that is providing me with all of these choices, including hundreds of channels that I haven't ever had a chance to look at. Yet. But why should these new customers, who apparently just fell off the video turnip truck, be offered a discount? I have been sending a monthly check to Comcast, now Xfinity, for most of my adult life. Right after the electricity that I need to run my TV machine, I make sure that our connection to the world that includes three different permutations of the NFL Network is not severed. I called the friendly folks at Xfinity, to find out.
Initially, my question was shunted to the billing department. Crystal was unable to sort out just why my bill would be three times higher than that of someone who just got it into their head to sign up for this "cable TV." Something about the tone of my voice and my persistence made Crystal pass me on to the sales department. Clifford told me that he was happy to listen to my inquiries and promised to help sort out my confusion.
"Why is it that when I call your eight-hundred number, I get a droid voice congratulating me on being an Xfinity insider, then I wait on hold while more recorded voices encourage me to try and manage my account online?"
Clifford was a pro, and wasn't rattled by my snarky tone. He opened up my account and checked to make sure that I was, in fact getting those services for which I was paying. Then he did an interesting thing: He offered me more choices in my cable lineup. My Xfinity Insider brain blanched at this quandary. Why would I want more when I am already paying too much? Clifford explained that he would be happy to get me a deal where I was paying less for even more channels, and a faster Internet connection. More for less? This is still America, right? You bet!
When I finished making the deal and hung up the phone, I felt a little tired and a bit soiled. With all that high definition video swimming around out there in the air currently, I still chose the secure plan that gave me a wire coming out of the wall, pumping all those movies and cooking shows into my bedroom and living room. Never mind that I will never have enough time to watch them all, I took absurd comfort in the thought that they are still there, some of them filling up disk space on my digital video recorder, waiting patiently for me to arrange my life to finally be able to watch them all. For a price. I got a deal.
Who run Kabletown? Clifford run Kabletown.