Friday, June 05, 2009

Another Can o'Spam

I've often said, in these blogs, that I feel like an alien in a world I simply cannot understand. And the more I reach for the "Delete All" option on my Spam folder, the more firmly I am convinced of it. I am truly sincere when I say that I cannot comprehend how greed has so overcome our world that over 10 billion spam messages are sent out every day. The sub-humans who create and perpetrate this idiocy have absolutely no concern for logic or human decency, or the fact that they are preying on the gullible.

We've all heard jokes about and seen reports on jobs which are held in lowest esteem by the pubic. Traditionally lawyers and used car salesmen are on the list. But spammers are so far beneath contempt they do not even register. What purpose do these creatures serve, other than to take advantage of others? And that they apparently succeed and prosper says clearly that we are doomed as a species.

And, dear Lord, it never ends. The backed-up sewers of cyberspace continue to bubble and spray and splatter over every computer on the planet. At times, I like to put myself in the role of what I imagine the spammers see as their ideal target, and react accordingly to their messages. It seldom works, and my instant reactions, even under the most ideal of circumstances are less than positive. Here are a few more shining examples of the spammer's art, and my immediate response to them.

"He tinkledy-binkledy-winkled a bell" (I still didn't open it, but I do applaud its creativity)

"Your illegal activity." (oooooh, dear! Am I in trouble? Can I write you a check to make it go away? Please?)

"Missed my message?" (No, I didn't miss your message. I didn't see it, but I certainly didn't miss it.)

"Deeper in her entrails. What your score...." (What a lovely mental picture!)

"Waiting for reply" (Of course you are. Keep waiting)

"Should the Acronym LOOL just die?" (I have no problem with that.)

"I'm pressing charges!" (Good. If I send you a couple pair of pants, will you press them, too?)

"Perhaps you could be my new friend--Hi, My name is Maria. I am looking for a friend to chat. I have a picture if you wi...." (Note: If your name is Maria, why did your note come from someone named Pearline Triplett? And why did I immediately think of that old drinking song: "Get off the table, Mable....the quarter's for the beer.")

"Ah no replied she--What ails you, king's daughter! lodgings! Mr. Greenland lawful...." (And the answer is still "No!")

"Your request canceled" (Oh, no! Please tell me how I can un-cancel a request I never made! I can't live without whatever the hell you're talking about!)

"This is my third and Final Mail to you!" (Promise?)

"She went and opened the door--The next day. counterflow. Jr. Tariff brothers favoring..." (And this is supposed to get me to buy something from you...how?)

"Britney: I was a slave--You received this newsletter because you expressed an interest in our products and services...." (You are mistaken. I assure you I have no interest whatsoever in your products or services, whatever they may be. And I'm not even curious as to what Britney's being a slave has to do with it.)

I do not fool myself that any amount of ranting against spam and its loathesome perpetrators will do a bit of good. But like so many things over which I have no control, raging against them is better than merely accepting them. And once again, I will not go gently into that good night.

New entries are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Please come back, and bring a friend. And I'd be pleased to have you stop by my website at http://www.doriengrey.com

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