I get an awful lot of spam. Most comes via my “day job” website (www.abactive.com), which is set up with contact details. Such is the nature of having a business advertise on the web. I tend to get spam from plenty of other places too. I try not to get too upset about it. After all, that’s like getting angry when it rains. There’s nothing that can be done about it, so wasting strong emotion on it is futile. Hopefully, one day, spam filters will become more efficient and we’ll slowly get less spam. But it’s like advertising and we all know we’ll never see the back of that. It’s the idiots that respond, of course, that are really to blame. Apparently most spam emails get around a 0.1 per cent hit rate (sometimes much higher). It might not sound like much, but if 0.1 per cent of people that receive a spam email click the link contained and buy something, when these spammers send out emails in multiple-millions, you don’t need to be a genius to figure out the maths.
Anyway, sometimes I’m genuinely entertained by these evil little cyber-ads. One day I’ll tell you all about the hilarious emails I get from India and Pakistan trying to sell me the world’s greatest boxing supplies. But, for now, I couldn’t resist the urge to share with you some of the most truly surreal spam poetry I’ve ever received.
One of the entertaining things about spam is often the name of the sender. They tend to be things like Phineas T Integrate or Clemetine R Sycophant. Those aren’t made up – I got both of those today. Then the subject lines are usually quite boring, usually something along the lines of \ /iagra For her pleasure and such.
Today, however, I got an absolute cracker of a subject line. Your future, Pan-satanism.
Now, while I’d never be foolish enough to buy anything from a spammer, I sometimes open them up out of a weird sense of curiosity. This one had to be opened. And inside, surprise, surprise, was a spiel entreating me to buy their brand of Cialis soft tabs which would enable me to bring “unimaginable pleasure to her!” No thanks, I manage just fine without.
However, for some completely inexplicable reason, below the cunningly disguised link in the html section of this email was a large poem. I say poem, simply because I can think of no other way to describe it. I imagine it’s another of the spammers efforts to evade spam filters. It is really quite a bizarre and surreal collection of words. It’s more like a word association game in an asylum for the criminally insane than a poem, to be honest. So don’t simply write off all the spam you receive. Obviously, never buy anything from them, never open anything with attachments or click on any links in them, but a quick read can often reveal the strangest little word gems. This one is an absolute corker. I’ll reproduce today’s acid-induced poem for you. See if you can get to the end!
Your future, Pan-satanism
noble-natured ocean lane Middle westerner observation kite peanut tube
neuron doctrine palm play night-singing nankeen lily parcel checker
parsley-flavored moon-gathered palisade crown Neo-sanskritic
mince pie nose ape nut-gathering olive shell Mohave apache outlet plate offset lithography
New hampshirite moko-moko open-armed
never-ending para-ski New englandish now-lost mud-colored now-dead mortification root mucus body ox daisy oscillation number Pan-syrian paper cutter Neo-lamarckist
mouse bloodwort monad deme Non-riemannian multiple-threaded patina green
night emerald paradise flycatcher night-haunted mezzanine story
paper blockade mouse bloodwort night palsy Owl nebula Naphthylamine black d motion block narrow-laced novel-writing Neo-sumerian pansy-violet ocean liner ocean trade Oneonta sandstone
nephelite-tephrite oyster fungus musk ambrette Neo-sogdian orchella weed
onion smut navel point passage penny night-overtaken
mountain foxtail night crow onion red nankeen bird one-septate mild-spirited old-style
pall-mall ore charger mouse-color
ounce metal Non-european middle body Papua mace parcel-mad mezzamine floor Panhandle state paving stone