Trump World Grab-Bag--A Collection

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Open letter to Spam Senders, et als.

Hi, I'm Vixen Strangely, a fictionalized representation of an IRL actual person, who has a blog and a hotmail account, because they were free. I have been on the internets now for a little bit over a decade--either as an active forum participant or even (not free) a webmistress. My skills in teh webs are meagre, because I learn not by taking courses or reading books, but by doing things. I blow off steam by posting random nonsense on the web--I never got money by anything I've done on the Internet. I have probably enriched Jeff Bezos by some percentage, as I am a committed, highly-functioning, book addict. I would say my internet-usage has been, albeit culturally-enriching, all-in-all a financially-losing proposition. It has heightened my awareness and access to a great number of on-line shops with tantalizingly new and different goods on offer. I am a xenophile--I love new things. Give me Japanese candy. Let me buy a copy of an obscure B-film. I will chew betel nut. I will read quirky cult graphic novels.

I have spent money on-line, and gladly, and spent money to be on-line, and even spent money to host some of my crap to stay online for the handful of odd folk who might like the sort of thing I've written, late at night, occasionally drunk and often inspired by....uh, a syndicated tv show. In other words, I acknowledge that I am a certain kind of doofus. A geek, if you will. I have opinions regarding comic books, the existence of God, science fiction novels, and politics. I need to have an e-mail address so the similarly-inclined can reach out and say:

"Vixen Strangely--you are a doofus."

or even:

"Vixen Strangely--you write passibly well, but why is your URL so long and your material so eclectic?"

(No--nobody does write me like this. I have no traffic. People find me by accident. I am a self-admitted doofus. Here I stand. I can do no other.)

Yet despite my admitted doofus-dom, I beseech you (the "you" of my open letter, not "you", necessarily, the person who dropped in to sit awhile, kick your shoes off, and be entertained by my doofus-dom)--the sender of spam. The human behind the bot that sweeps up the e-mail addy's from us bloggy folk.

Is there any reason you think that I would think that the British, Irish, or European Lottery are so b.s. that they don't have their own domain, but "Yahoo's"? Because if I were a corporate entity with any reputation I'd have my own domain. I also would not be "aol" or "hotmail"--if I were the administrator of a large prize. No, I really would not.

I ask you--is the art of phishing dead? Where oh where are the e-mail scams of yesteryear? For the sake of art--can you not pretend you are from something with an identifiable domain and a creditable "whosis"? Can you refrain from saying you are from Nigeria? Because it's getting to be really old memes. Really, spammers, can you just respect yourselves? Because if you don't respect yourself, there isn't anybody who will give a hoot for you. I'm "series". And if you fail at being convincingly a thing I could give any money to--could you at least have some grasp of the language I speak? That would make you seem less silly. And maybe be funny, so I can "Forward" your e-mail to friends who can at least giggle at your greedy exuberance?

I delete many e-mails that fail to be very good spam. Please guys--if this is your deal, stop being the gelatinous spooge at the bottom of the Spam can. Give me something that makes me think twice wondering if it's real. Makes me laugh. Try to make me, an educated internetizen, click on your b.s. link. You all are falling down on the job with your lameness, and you should feel something. I click you not. Try to front being more clickable.

Your "series"ly--

V. Strangely

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