Now, though, when I stay up late into the lonely hours after midnight and watch videos on the internet, I miss the (probably illusory) comradery of finding the strange programs lodged in the niche networks and believing I might be watching them with someone else out there.
I could smile in sympathy, at least, with the imaginary guy or gal at the station, putting the tape in the machine and nursing his or her fifth coffee of the night through the grit and solitude of the graveyard shift.
I know there's almost no chance that another human being alive is currently watching Haircut 100's video for "Love Plus One" for the third time tonight, and this knowledge make me disproportionately sad.
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