Binary Hell

The fax machine is stalking me. Somewhere in New York City, a fax machine is dialing my line at work. It thinks I'm another fax machine. Communication is impossible, I don't comprehend the beeps. They mean nothing to me. I keep picking up the phone, and all I hear is beeping. It's turning into a Twilight Zone episode. I'll leave work, and my cell phone will ring, and it will be the phantom fax stalker. Beeeeep. Beep. (silence). Beeeeeeeeep. Beep. I can't get away from it. My computer's trying to talk to me now, too, but that's a grating, scratching noise, like a 14.4 baud modem in 1990 trying to dial-up to Compuserve. The machines are trying to tell me something. I should learn binary code and how to decode the signals sent through fiber optics. Then, I could listen to the machines, and know what they want from me. I could skip a step in the communication model - I could be the receiver and the decoder. Computers and modems would become obsolete if we could use our brains to decode the signals sent through fiber cables. My 'Survey of Mass Communication' professor would be so proud. Then again, he might just think I've been reading too much Philip K. Dick, and that I'm a paranoid-delusional schizophrenic. I'll opt for the latter, it sounds like more fun.