Spam-tastic E-mail
I had a fantastic idea for a column while driving to work the other day. I jotted it down, although writing while driving is something I’m not particularly good at. So naturally, I can’t figure out what the fantastic idea is; as near as I can tell, the note says "Garrolling olson splikys."
At first I was mad that I written something so incoherent. But then I re-read my last three columns, and realized that "Garrolling olson splikys" makes as much sense as those.
And I felt even better when I opened my latest batch of e-mail spam. I swear, the literary value of the spam I receive is deteriorating rapidly and wretchedly, like the weather on a dark and stormy night.
For example, I’m repeatedly receiving this message from various senders: "Asumdari mistirioy aslongic Muchastic. Kelsad meras. Arcade."
Of course, that e-mail reads like Hemingway compared to this recent spam: "qruutstpuquiti suornnorsrosogng nhrgsisgpkqk ipinhpgomiifipgj nsrtsuprplqf ggkhj molumsmoiqmn ojsmurgnirfr ijmmolihgmtmjll."
That’s the actual text of the entire spam. (Oddly, my spell check didn’t find anything wrong with that sentence, except for a missing comma.)
As pathetic as it is, that message reads like Shakespeare compared to this spam chunk I received the other day: The "From" line was utterly blank. . . the "Subject" line was utterly blank, except for the note that is was "***SPAM***". . .and the body of the message was, yes, utterly blank.
At first I thought this was a creative and exciting new breakthrough in spam. A spam of mystical meaning. Perhaps even the mythical "Perfect Spam," which magically marries sleazy marketing and Zen philosophy – a ***ZPAM***!
But after responding to it with all my personal information, credit card and bank account numbers, the works – and receiving utterly blank – I realized the truth. This empty spam is merely the latest – and most insulting – evidence of the lazy and indifferent attitudes of today’s new breed of spammers.
This crowd doesn’t genuinely care about its potential victims. They think they’re above putting forth the hard, dishonest effort of giving me a genuine bogus stock tip, or a bona fide fake home refinancing offer, or authentically phony tax advice (which even the IRS is capable of giving, thank you very much.)
Of course, this anemic work ethic hasn’t completely taken over our valuable international spamming industry. There’s still a lot of respectable, hard-working spam being generated, spam that’s worthy of our respect and admiration. I know this thanks to my brother.
No, he’s not a spammer. Well, not that I know of, anyway. He claims to be a bank trust officer who lives in Anderson, Indiana. And recently, he received permission from his bank’s security people to share with me a sort of "Greatest Hits of E-mail Money Scams."
(You know. . .those messages sent to you – and YOU ALONE, of ALL the people on earth – by a refugee prince, a high-ranking bank officer, or the personal assistant to a fabulously wealthy – but now quite deceased – cocoa tycoon. This individual seeks – from you and YOU ALONE, of ALL the people on earth – assistance in taking possession of a fortune equal to the cost of making a Steven Spielberg movie. Naturally you’re assured that, for your help, anywhere from 20 to 40% of this money will be yours – and yours ALONE, of ALL the etc.)
In studying dozens of these e-mails, I’ve enjoyed some truly inspiring fiction, although the stories do become numbingly familiar after a while. But I can put up with the trite plots just to enjoy some of the language. I’ve found scads of colorful and useful phrases to begin using regularly in my columns.
Just for fun, here’s a preview of next week’s opening paragraph, featuring nothing but actual phrases lifted from E-mail Money Scam spams (every word appears just as it did in its original e-mail):
"Good a thing to write you. Let it not marvels you. I find it very hard to be telling anybody about my predicaments because a lot I have told about this take me as a lier. Please treat with dispatch as personal consumption while I look forward with optimism."
"P.S. – Garrolling olson splikys."
# # #
Send me some ham (code for legitimate e-mail; but I’m not talking about e-mail, I want some actual ham – I’m hungry). TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
At first I was mad that I written something so incoherent. But then I re-read my last three columns, and realized that "Garrolling olson splikys" makes as much sense as those.
And I felt even better when I opened my latest batch of e-mail spam. I swear, the literary value of the spam I receive is deteriorating rapidly and wretchedly, like the weather on a dark and stormy night.
For example, I’m repeatedly receiving this message from various senders: "Asumdari mistirioy aslongic Muchastic. Kelsad meras. Arcade."
Of course, that e-mail reads like Hemingway compared to this recent spam: "qruutstpuquiti suornnorsrosogng nhrgsisgpkqk ipinhpgomiifipgj nsrtsuprplqf ggkhj molumsmoiqmn ojsmurgnirfr ijmmolihgmtmjll."
That’s the actual text of the entire spam. (Oddly, my spell check didn’t find anything wrong with that sentence, except for a missing comma.)
As pathetic as it is, that message reads like Shakespeare compared to this spam chunk I received the other day: The "From" line was utterly blank. . . the "Subject" line was utterly blank, except for the note that is was "***SPAM***". . .and the body of the message was, yes, utterly blank.
At first I thought this was a creative and exciting new breakthrough in spam. A spam of mystical meaning. Perhaps even the mythical "Perfect Spam," which magically marries sleazy marketing and Zen philosophy – a ***ZPAM***!
But after responding to it with all my personal information, credit card and bank account numbers, the works – and receiving utterly blank – I realized the truth. This empty spam is merely the latest – and most insulting – evidence of the lazy and indifferent attitudes of today’s new breed of spammers.
This crowd doesn’t genuinely care about its potential victims. They think they’re above putting forth the hard, dishonest effort of giving me a genuine bogus stock tip, or a bona fide fake home refinancing offer, or authentically phony tax advice (which even the IRS is capable of giving, thank you very much.)
Of course, this anemic work ethic hasn’t completely taken over our valuable international spamming industry. There’s still a lot of respectable, hard-working spam being generated, spam that’s worthy of our respect and admiration. I know this thanks to my brother.
No, he’s not a spammer. Well, not that I know of, anyway. He claims to be a bank trust officer who lives in Anderson, Indiana. And recently, he received permission from his bank’s security people to share with me a sort of "Greatest Hits of E-mail Money Scams."
(You know. . .those messages sent to you – and YOU ALONE, of ALL the people on earth – by a refugee prince, a high-ranking bank officer, or the personal assistant to a fabulously wealthy – but now quite deceased – cocoa tycoon. This individual seeks – from you and YOU ALONE, of ALL the people on earth – assistance in taking possession of a fortune equal to the cost of making a Steven Spielberg movie. Naturally you’re assured that, for your help, anywhere from 20 to 40% of this money will be yours – and yours ALONE, of ALL the etc.)
In studying dozens of these e-mails, I’ve enjoyed some truly inspiring fiction, although the stories do become numbingly familiar after a while. But I can put up with the trite plots just to enjoy some of the language. I’ve found scads of colorful and useful phrases to begin using regularly in my columns.
Just for fun, here’s a preview of next week’s opening paragraph, featuring nothing but actual phrases lifted from E-mail Money Scam spams (every word appears just as it did in its original e-mail):
"Good a thing to write you. Let it not marvels you. I find it very hard to be telling anybody about my predicaments because a lot I have told about this take me as a lier. Please treat with dispatch as personal consumption while I look forward with optimism."
"P.S. – Garrolling olson splikys."
# # #
Send me some ham (code for legitimate e-mail; but I’m not talking about e-mail, I want some actual ham – I’m hungry). TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
posted by Don Stuart at 11:19 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home