The latest development in spam, after the brief flush a short while back of subject lines like “I am really upset about last Wednesday” and “Sorry about Tuesday, I will make it up to you”, appears to be that whoever is currently generating spam is running a little low on inspiration. A far cry from the luxurious nonsense
of, say, “Odometer R. Anglicanism”, senders’ names at the moment are commonly lone bleak words or phrases like “information”, “clearance”, “already present” or, aptly, “confusion”, while the subject headers are random snippets like “their operation has remained” or “take signal”. It’s like avant-garde SMS theatre.
Any signs of malaise in the names are, however, dispelled by the occasional peek at the spam itself. (I’m on a Mac, so I can pretty much do so with impunity. Don’t try this at home, PC kids.) I’m still delighted at being told by “Emery”, who sails under the flag “You cumm right after penetration” and opens with “Yo! Eliminate this problem and all the anxiety it causes! Become a better male!”, that once I’ve ingested his non-specific miracle cure, “she” will go crazy for me and “You won't forget your eyes
after you finally gave her the long-lasting love”. This even beats “Efren” and his insistence that my girl will be impressed with “prolonged hardness and plentiful explosions
Mentioned in dispatches: Ed-Drugs. I’m getting to know their mails by the subject lines alone. Like almost all spam, they pretend to be from a real person (even with the random-character ones like “–©@¬Ž}Ž” you can pretend you’re getting mail from, say, Ptolemy II) and don't mention what they’re trying to peddle until your curiosity has been piqued enough to open the message. However, I now know at a glance that the distinctive found poetry of “He allow at articulate musquash chummy”, “By complain the prime swipe choosey”, “It understand my cease dixieland jilt” or “I sing at puffed dominican
” means that once again someone at Ed-Drugs is having a go at convincing me I need Viagra. (My favourite of theirs: “Be work go wholesale mortality”, which deserves to be stolen for an album title.)
More than one spammer has invited me to “Have sex with locals”, which is altogether too isolated-villagey
for me. Oh, and “Dolly Torres” tells me to “Get a better job!”, which is rich coming from someone paid to generate 80,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 worthless emails a day that people only read occasionally, as here, to take the piss.
Is someone teaching a degree course in these things yet? “The sublimation of metatextuality in the ubiquity of spam”; “If Shakespeare were alive today he'd be peddling Cialis”, etc? If not, I'll happily teach one on this journal. cant afford 4 yrs in school? the web of evil will GUARANTE you a diploma you can hang on yr wall. impress her with yr new quafilicatiofn! she will neevr look the same way again on yr eye!
According to this page
, which asks “Qu’est-ce que le Spam?”, French-speaking purists insist on translating “spam” as “multipostages excessifs”. The site points out that this is “pas très heureux”.