Surviving The Internet Outage

 The following takes on something that happened in Canada a few days back. Namely one of the major internet providers, Rogers, have their entire network go down, and millions of Canadians at a loss about what to do, seeking coffee shops with alternate internet providers. I wasn't one of those millions... because my home internet has a different provider. 

Rogers Continues To Deal With Fallout Of Outage, Millions Of Canadians Mildly Outraged

Toronto (CP) It was a Friday not soon to be forgotten in the Great White North. On the 8th of July, Rogers saw its entire internet network go down. Coast to coast, millions of Canadians whose internet service was Rogers based couldn't get online. If their phones were linked to Rogers, they couldn't call anyone. Interac services went down. Ticket agencies were unable to issue tickets to events. City services were affected. Rogers, a company that has turned bad customer service into a hallowed company tradition, found themselves under attack from multiple parties.

It went down before most people started their day. Rogers customers found their computers, tablets, phones, and other connected technology failing to connect. And in a day without landlines, they couldn't just call in and ask what was going on. Executives at the company quickly realized they had a public relations nightmare in the making as the morning began to unfold and the scope of the outage became clear. Meanwhile people with other service providers started their day none the wiser to anything being wrong.

Sooner or later word started getting around. Some of it came through those television networks not dependant on Rogers to broadcast. Canadians, ever a resourceful lot, sought out coffee shops with different providers, found out their workplaces were or were not affected, and otherwise found a wifi hotspot where they could catch up. There was much fretting, debate, and demands for answers as the day went along. Rogers and their pack of marketing chimps made empty promises and platitudes, while the executive board considered the worst case scenario of fleeing the country if their networks didn't come up fast.

Finally, after many hours, service began to return. Canadians on Rogers service began to catch up with their email, watch their programs, and make calls. Statements from the company blamed it on "maintenance." As is often the case with such events, memes were created to ridicule the whole matter. Politicians from various levels of government demanded answers and mused about public inquiries. Rogers swore that they'd do better in the future. Few believed them.

Other providers took advantage, suggesting that customers think of switching over to a better company. All while hoping the next inadvertent outage wasn't on their system. Psychologists commented on the effect of a daylong deprival of internet services on a large swath of a country. Canadians, their nerves calmed down with a nice cup of maple syrup and bacon, began moving on with their lives, content in the knowledge that next time it would happen to someone else.

But the question remains: what really happened? Blaming it on maintenance is one thing- given the shoddy work record of the Rogers maintenance division, which after all gives the customer service side of things a run for its money. Some on the internet were blaming other things, including conspiracy theorists. "It's like that movie, man, Independence Day!" professional recluse Neil Dunhow told this reporter on the day in question, calling from a landline. "The aliens are out there and they're using our satellites against us to get into position! We're all doomed!"

When asked yesterday to clarify his comment, Dunhow said, "no comment."

Inevitably, however, the real reason for the outage was exposed. It was something that simply couldn't be hidden, because it also registered on the Richter scale. On the 8th of July, early in the morning, something rose up out of the Pacific Ocean, a force of titanic size and malevolent purpose. Because it knocked out Rogers service on the coast, no footage of it was obtained at the time, but it made its way inland on a quest of domination and conquest.

It is a creature seen before, one of the Great Old Ones. A cosmic entity reported by H.P. Lovecraft, who tried to pass it off as fiction, it has slumbered off and on deep in the ocean. Its name is Cthulhu, a gigantic vaguely humanoid monster with elements of a dragon, octopus, and other beasts in the whole making. To gaze on it too long is to become mad. Or something like that. The beast rampaged inland after knocking out internet service, crossing the Rocky Mountains. Until it was stopped.

In the foothills of the Rockies west of Calgary, it met its match in the form of an immovable object. A force of nature in the form of a man. The grumpiest but greatest lawman on the planet. The legendary Mountie, Inspector Lars Ulrich. 

They had battled before. It had not gone well for the Great Old One. For the briefest of moments, the two stared each other down. And then the battle began.

Within ten seconds, Cthulhu was down on the ground for the first time, struck by a left hook punch that sent the creature reeling. After that, Ulrich really went to work on him. 

Cthulhu fled, battered and bloody, humiliated by the defeat, last seen retreating into the Pacific. Three days ago, reporters caught up to the Inspector at his detachment to seek out his comment. Once assured that all reporters present knew he was not that Lars Ulrich, the Inspector appeared to be less cranky. Ulrich confirmed that he had history with the monster, dismissing him as a 'crybaby'.

At this point, someone else rushed up. A vacant eyed nitwit who had entertainment journalist written all over him. "Lars! Lars! Matt Stone, Entertainment Tonight! What everyone wants to know is, what does Metallica think about Armie Hammer working as a timeshare salesman?"

The real reporters backed up to give Ulrich room. Ulrich glared at Stone, speaking in a low voice. "I am not that Lars Ulrich."

Stone looked confused. "Of course you are."

At this point Ulrich picked up a stanchion and threw it at Stone, who started running. It ended with a chase into Dead Man's Canyon and an extended stay for Stone in a local trauma centre, stuck in a body cast for the next six months.