Yes, I’ve downloaded copyrighted content from the Interwebs.

Yes, I’ve downloaded Malaysian bootlegs of movies before they have released in the US, complete with silhouettes of people rising from their seats mid-movie.

A couple-three times the power at our house has gone out for more than a week at a time. During one of these extended blackouts in 2007, I downloaded Ratatouille (at work) a couple days before it released into theaters. I carted a fully charged laptop home so the kids would have a little distraction from the July heat in a darkened house with no air conditioning.

That’s my attempt to try and make theft sound noble. Is it working?

I’m over the pirate thing. I’m over bit torrents and downloads. I have been for years. We live in a streaming culture. Availability is no longer an excuse and the cost of instant entertainment in 1080HD is pretty cheap. After I built our home movie theater in the basement, I wasn’t going to watch a shitty Malaysian rip off cam-capture of Man of Steel in 420i in the corner of my laptop.

I have a dear friend who still pirates to save a buck. She invariably burns me “gift” DVDs containing several new/recent movies. When we catch up for lunch, she’ll pass a stack of them my way. I’ve tried to make her understand that I’m a resolution snob in my old age and I don’t want pirated content, but she interprets that pushback as a rejection of her gift. Sometimes you just need to shut up and say “Thank you.”

She was thinking of me. Thank you.

The sand in the gears of my “post piracy” adulthood is, of course, HB fucking O.  Bunch of dipshits. Nine months to get a season of Game of Thrones to streaming. Why? WHY? I‘ve been climbing out of my skin to see the first season of True Detective. It finally streams two weeks from today. Six months after airing.

“So, just buy HB fucking O, Shawn. Geez. Whiner!”

Oh, if I could just buy HB fucking O, I would, Voice O’Reason. But I can’t just buy HB fucking O without buying a standard cable package. I can’t buy HB fucking O without also being forced to buy a slew of home shopping channels, and cooking channels, and Honey Boo Boo channels.

I cut the cord and my monthly bill by $160 precisely to get away from that business model. It’s why I’m closely watching the Supreme Court decision on Aereo. If Aereo wins, it’s going to open up the era of buying only the cable channels you want, a la carte. There are weighty implications for me and my underserved Roku.

Yesterday I found myself kneeling in front of that locked leather trunk in my basement, I keyed open the formidable latchlock on the front and let the chains fall slack. The dust swirl caused by the lid lifting sent me into a sneezing fit. I lifted the starched felt of that black bastard from the trunk and punched the folds from the crown. I lowered the bicorn hat onto my nervous, thinning pate once more.

I borrowed misappropriated my parent’s HBOGo account and password. And there it was. Season Four of Game of Thrones and True Detective on demand in HD. Glory be and saints be praised.  If I could send HB fucking O a check for $60, I would. Seriously. If the suits ever set up a guilt/amnesty PayPal account, I’ll tithe in a heartbeat.

But for now, the Jolly Roger ripples through the gloaming fog once more.

You see, HB fucking O… The problem with villainy is that it’s hard to walk through that museum and not nick a snowglobe from the gift shop. I’ve already crossed the threshold.  Now I’m looking at attaching a Slingbox to my parent’s cable box so I can get all their channels sent to my Roku.

Apparently this has become de rigeur at college campuses across the lower forty-eight.  For a minimal hardware investment, kids can take Mom and Dad’s television package anywhere there is wi-fi on both ends of the pipe.

Has anybody else tried this? Any thoughts on the resolution at the far end of the pipe? Is it worth a $200 investment in a Slingbox?

C’mon, pirates. I know you are out there. I can hear your parrots squawking.