Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Amaze imagination of your girlfriend!

Morning coffee comes with a middling ritual — ridding my email of bilge.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who finds email yields more weeds than fruit.

The important stuff chokes amid the solicitations to purchase discount drugs from Canada, various sex enhancements, and mail-in college degrees.

Russian women tell me I, and I alone, am man enough to marry them.

Almost every morning urgent messages warn that the package I didn't ship requires additional payment to reach its destination, that the job I didn't apply for puts me at considerable risk from cyber terrorists if I don't click here, that the flight I didn't book will be canceled unless I act immediately.

These phishing expeditions change over time. Nigerian princes have long since stopped asking me to help them dislodge their offshore assets for a cut of the booty. Fake facebook notices don't pop up as much either; they stopped shortly after I joined facebook and might have been fooled by the notices; almost was, too, except that the logo bore something almost imperceptibly inauthentic, a tiny truncation of letterform, a slight fuzziness. The facebook phishers had only a brief window before I figured out how facebook really notifies me, and they phailed to get me to click where they wanted.

Of the junk email that still bombards my inbox, I've noticed a decline in their vigor. They appear to be copies of copies of copies, and something additional falls apart with each iteration that loops through.

"Pharmacy" becomes "pharamcy" and "Canada" turns into "Canadiana." "Viagra™©®" is almost always "Vigara®©™" now. The Russian women, struggling heroically with a second language to begin with, are having more trouble than usual with English. The more urgent the warning, the more likely and frequent the misspelling, right at the start, with the most common words ("teh") tripping the phishers' phiendish desires.

Now the degradation is nearly complete, the recombinant DNA shredded to unlinked electronic proteins, made senseless.

For wonderful example, I received these two messages this week. My best guess is that I could purchase products that would render me anatomically irresistible and unwavering, if only I would click the link provided.

In the message line of the first was this:  "I have tasted, at me it has turned out. And you?"

The message? "Men have bought 150 000 packings, and you where were?"'

I am missing a huge opportunity (pun probably intended), but I don't know exactly what.

The message line for the second: "The small... It is a shame.? Look and operate"

The message: Amaze imagination of your girlfriend.

It's licentious and prurient and inviting. And funny, unfortunately for whoever sent it (or whatever web bot kicked it to me). This makes sense in some language, and I'd love to know what.

My only recourse is to wait out the waves of wanton email until the source materials degrade completely into random syllables — and never ever use the Internets again.

Look and operate.

(Ignoring the 9/11 show, by the way. I have said all I can say about it … and nothing has changed, inside or out.)

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