A Samsung Tragedy in Three Acts (Starring Me and a Samsung 55” Neo QLED TV)

Dear Samsung,

I share the same sentiments as the Disillusioned Samsung TV owner and reluctant art collector below. Misery loves company, after all.

Once upon a time (read: 8 months ago), I bought a 55” Neo QLED Samsung TV. It was a moment of joy, the kind of joy that only comes from dropping a premium amount of money in the hope that your lounge becomes a portal to cinematic bliss. For a brief, shining period, life was glorious.

And then… the TV decided to audition for a role as a nightclub strobe light—flashing at speeds that would make any 80s disco-goer proud. Naturally, I turned to the modern oracle: WhatsApp support. After a delightful series of DIY rituals that didn’t work, the powers-that-be graciously arranged a visit from the Samsung Technical Sages.

Now, unlike poor Mr. Pretorius, I was lucky. My tech duo didn’t show up scratching their heads—they arrived brimming with confidence and mystery parts in hand, declaring “it can only be the ****** board.” Ah yes, the mythical board, the root of all evil.

With all the grace of an overconfident pit crew, they unmounted the TV, popped off the back like seasoned surgeons, and swapped out the ****** board with the flair of people who’d done this far too many times.

But lo and behold—the flicker returned. A few whispers (which I can only assume were apologies to the gods of LED), and voilà! A second board was extracted from the van like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Hope flickered. Literally.

Then came the true performance: a double act, each technician holding one side of the TV as it flexed like a sad sheet of aluminum in the breeze. I watched, horrified, as my once-prized possession was bent back and forth in a ritual clearly not described in the owner’s manual.

Cue black screen.

Another whisper. Then the classic line: “maybe one of the ribbons are loose.” (Spoiler: they weren’t.) The back was opened once more, and then came the real kicker—they needed to take the TV away because “one of the LED panels were gone, and that’s the reason for the flashing.”

Gone. As in ****. Vanished. Ceased to be.

Sadly, the box had long since been sacrificed to the cardboard gods, so they promised to order a new panel and return for a dramatic act two. In the meantime, I sit here staring into the existential void that is a completely black screen—longing for the good old days when it only flickered like a haunted lighthouse.

Calls to the call centre have become a weekly exercise in false hope. “Your LED panels are on order and will arrive next week,” they say. “A manager will give you a call,” they promise.

Narrator: They didn’t.

Let’s be clear: your certified, branded, undeniably confident technicians broke the panel while trying to reenact Cirque du Soleil with my television. Why must I, the humble and now TV-less consumer, suffer weeks in screenless purgatory due to your team’s blunder?

And where, exactly, are these elusive “managers”? Do they exist? Are they on sabbatical in the Maldives? Were they perhaps swallowed by the same black void that now fills my screen?

I have lost all faith in Samsung, which is saying something, as I’ve previously sung your praises louder than your TV’s surround sound.

Kind regards (but not really), Dale – soon-to-be proud LG TV owner and full-time skeptic