The Poetry Of Spam?
We’ve been getting a bunch of comment spam this last week or two. Fortunately, the anti-spam tools in place on the blog having been doing their job, and none of it has managed to get though to sully your much appreciated comments.
As I’ve been glancing through the spam that has not been automatically deleted (it gets held in a comment spam queue initially), I noticed two things.
Firstly, 95% of the junk has a .ru domain based email address or url attached to it. .ru is the top-level domain for Russia. Methinks they should stick to sucking on the backyard potato vodka rather than wasting their time on spam – they are pretty useless at spamming.
Secondly, I started to notice a certain level of poetic nuance in some of the spam. It’s all auto-generated, but it does often come across as almost stream-of-consciousness stuff, ala James Joyces’ Molly Bloom and others.
Here is my attempt at putting lines drawn from the spam to some use:
Excuse me… Sorry for keeping you waiting.
He sat on the strawberry Yasha asleep.
The fungus you insist on cultivating in the grotto,
will bring grim consequences for all of us.
Insomnia is characterized by a specific cause for depression in men.
Is there a bus to the castle?
When is the next bus to the airport?
How much are the tickets?
Is this the way to the library?
What’s the platform number?
Where are you going?
Let me see…
I don’t like the colour.
The photos show them doing it all for you.
They have to go to the archives section.
We must have lunch together.
The cooked food you need so that occur in psychosis and dementias,
to name Viagra, like many drug sales licensing.
The energy of humans and mammals is increased risk of impotence,
while others are quite informal.
Are you looking for Fluoxetine?
Looking for Clonazepam?
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