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Spam I Am Now that my isp has sold my internet address to every bulk E-mailer and purveyor of kiddie porn on the planet, it’s hard to pick out a familiar name from my inbox. A letter from my aunt comes sandwiched between a pitch for generic Viagra and a website devoted to sex with barnyard animals. Many of these messages come masked as something else, like “Note from a Friend.” Problem is, I don’t have any friends who sell pheromones on the internet. At least, not anymore. So, one day, I got disgusted and decided to do something really radical—read everything. One add selling a follicle enhancer tells me I’ll start feeling confident again. Confident? As in Michael Jordan? The hairiest guys I know are all suicide bombers. Throw in Ted Kazynski, and I’m not so sure I want my bald spot filled in. Another ad tells me I can become tax free. I know a way to become tax free. It’s called unemployment. What I want to know is, where will you guys be the day federal marshals barrel down the door and confiscate my DVD collection? Another popular E-mail pitch offers to “increase your penis size by 1”, 2”, or 3” in just a few short weeks. I’ve been getting this particular E-mail four or five times a day and frankly, I’m beginning to take it personally. Another E-mail offers a position earning “$10,000 per month working from home.” Right. It’s called selling crack. A similar add two spaces below asks me if I’m “tired of the 40x40x40 plan? You know: work 40 hours per week for someone else for 40 years, and then receive a 40% reduction in pay?” Hmmm. The only 40x40x40 plan I know consists of 40 spams a day from 40 fly-by-night web businesses selling 40 bogus products. One strange pitch explains that “mortgage companies intimidate you . . . they humiliate you . . . “ Well, that’s why I stopped borrowing money from the mob. Next . . . “As seen on Oprah! The health discovery that reverses aging while burning fat, without dieting or exercise.” Yet another ad for crack. I wonder—in addition to making you younger, does it make you more gullible too? An ad a little further down offers “billions of dollars in government grants.” Somehow, I’ve intercepted Ken Lay’s E-mail. Another really bizarre ad offers to allow me to “ejaculate up to 13 feet.” I guess that’s useful if your lover is in another cell. Another ad tells me to “start accepting credit cards today.” I haven’t turned one down yet, and I don’t plan to. A little further down . . . four identical copies of the same ad offer a revolutionary cable descrambler. Why do I get the feeling that after dumping 29.95, I’m still going to be getting a pounding headache from squinting while watching the soundless, black and white version of “The Sopranos?” Still another ad boasts “Amazing new software lets you find out anything about anyone.” Anything? How about where you live, buddy, so I can come over and cut your DSL? Out of boredom, I decided one day to do something even more radical than simply reading everything. I decided to order everything. In summary, I hoped to become a rich, hairy, well-hung, self-employed, tax-free, hard-bodied sleuth with free cable. Unfortunately, I’m still broke, bald, undersized, underdeveloped, working for the man, paying Uncle Sam, getting scammed, and watching the Spice Channel at my uncle’s house. Click here to rant back. |