Ernest Cline Tech Support Lyrics

Hello, you've reached Technical Support
Yes, this is Technical Support,
Thank you for calling Technical Support
This is Ernie.
My name is Ernie.
I am the one they call Ernie.
Ernie speaking.
How may I help you?
How may I help you this evening?
What seems to be the problem?
Is your computer generating an error message?

Well, when did this happen?
How did this happen?
What in the hell did you do to it?
My god, what the f___ have you done?

Relax.
It's cool.
I'll help you.
That's why I'm here.
I'm here to help you.
All day, all night.
Just a big fat twitching BRAIN
wired up to a telephone
waiting to answer every g______ computer-related question that you have.
You need my help.
And I'm here to help you.
Now, tell me what's wrong?

It's the Internet, right?
You need to get on the Internet.
Booted up,
Jacked in,
Online.
It's imperative.
And I understand. I mean, after all,
"the Internet is a revolutionary means of communication that can decentralize power by providing everyone with a voice, since it is the only truly free medium of global information exchange, as it is not controlled by any one organization, corporation, government, or media cartel."

But YOU,
You just wanna download pictures of Gillian Anderson's p____, right?
You wanna send e-mail.
You wanna send e-mail to Jerry Springer.
You're just dying to visit Stone Cold Steve Austin's website.
The entire world is at your fingertips and this is the best that you can come up with.
You want stock quotes,
bomb schematics,
b______ity centerfolds.
You want to use the pseudonym "HotCock007" to pick up j__anese schoolgirls on AOL.
But you CAN'T, can you, Captain Caveman?
Because "Computer is broken."

And the problem could be hardware, software,
f___ing Tupperware for all you know.
Christ, you can't even remember your password.
You're in over your head.
You're out of your depth.
You're five kinds of stupid
and you want somebody to hold your hand
and tell you exactly what to do.
Help me, Ernie.
Save me, Ernie.
Fix it, Ernie.
Ernie, kiss my hard drive and make it better.

Relax.
You're in good hands.
I can help you.
The Internet is my b____.

You see, the computer and I are one.
I speak its language.
I'm like f___ing TRON.
Domo Arrigato, Mr. Roboto.

You see, it's manifest destiny.
This is my job.
This is what I do.
The imposition of Order on Chaos.
System on Fact.
Classification on Data.
I measure time in bits, bytes, kilobytes, megabytes, terabytes.
The future has teeth.

And you're seeing all of your worst fear about technology come true.
Not only is big brother watching you,
He knows your PIN number.
Welcome, my son, to the machine.
Your fate is being decided by forces you can't even begin to comprehend
and you feel like a hairless pink fetus
floating in a Plexiglas bathtub
somewhere deep inside The Matrix.

But don't worry, Coppertop.
It's cool.

You've reached Technical Support.
This is Technical Support.
Thank you for calling Technical Support.
This is Ernie . . . speaking.