Spam, spam, spam, spam ...
November 6, 2003 screeds
An ode to the scum of the earth.
I hate spam.
Not the lunch meat. Which is a fine and venerable product; and only semi-hazardous if consumed internally.
No, I mean the endless, mindless, pointless diarrhetic slough of junk email which pours its ugly ass into my accounts every minute of every day. So lets take a loathsome look at this bane on our online existence
First of all, these walking-talking buttplugs cast themselves as “direct marketers.” If the jerkwad who sends spam is in marketing, then Saddam Hussein just discovered the cure for cancer. Email marketing - and it’s more annoying yet easier to ignore cousin, telemarketing - is the “dumb blonde” of the marketing world. It’s cheap, it’s stupid, anyone can do it, and it’s popular. So to the numb-nutted freak about to hit “send” on another 10,000 emails about penis enlargement - here’s some news - you are NOT a marketing professional. You are a slut.
And, if this marketing was so legitimate, why then do the emails come through more often than not with faked headers? Thereby making the message appear to come from a valid domain someplace. And when was the last time you got a post card in your mailbox (your real one) to refinance your home and it was spelled: “R3financE N0w!”? So lets all be honest with each other - the spammers know they’re sending stuff no one wants to see.
Next, spam seems to fall into one of two pretty big categories. Stuff that you would expect to see in spam, and stuff you wouldn’t trust in a million years to something advertised in spam. Of the first category - things you’d expect in spam and might even look at (if you were bored or horny enough) - we have:
- Renting videos/dvds
- Small appliances and techno gadgets
Of the second category, which now seems to have become the most voluminous of the lot, we have items which if you are actually stupid enough to respond you deserve what you get:
- Penis enlargement
- House refinancing
- Health insurance
- Prescription medications
- Debt reduction
Who in their right mind would trust any of the above items to a company which won’t even put their return address on the email? You’re going to trust your penis to some company whose email splooged out of Chechnya? I don’t think so. You’re going to trust your personal finances to an outfit that doesn’t have 1-800 number or a recognizable business address? Yet obviously there are enough dullards out there who fall for this stuff that these pussballs continue to make money.
But there is a shift in the winds. New legislation coming up would make spam illegal in many states. To which the Direct Marketing Association pules: “it’ll cost thousands of jobs.” Given this current economy, I think just about every other industry would get sympathy. Not direct marketers. Everyone hates telemarketers and spam-merchants. Hates them. With a passion. Outside of their fellow bottom-feeding jag-off spamming friends, they won’t get an ounce of sympathy. No, they’ll have to go out and get real jobs instead of sitting at home in their Spiderman PJ’s with their screens half filled with “Goat-Loving Girls Gone Wild,” and one finger on the “send” button to deluge the ‘Net with more spam, while their other hand furiously jerks off on their calloused genitalia.
Further, in favor of the legislation, is the fact that the barrage of spam does infringe on the recipients property. That is, if you pay for your online account or online access, then the bandwidth and storage consumed by spam is coming out of your pocket. It’s only a matter of time before some lawyer sees a nice class-action suit here.
And if these laws somehow get defeated, then there is Another Way. I urge any of the virus-writing youth out there to be a Hero. Go after the common enemy - the server farms of the direct marketing swine. And think of it this way: if you got caught crashing a spam server with your virus, what jury would convict you of that? Hell, they’d give you a reward probably, and you could counter-sue for malicious prosecution. You were doing a Public Service, afterall.
So, to borrow from “Jay and Silent Bob,” I say to spam-mailers: “Fck them, fck them up their stupid asses.”
And to anyone reading this, if you’re at a party some time and ask the person in the buffet line with you what they do, and they say they’re in “online direct marketing” … reach over and grab the two nearest shrimp forks and plunge them forcefully into this bastards private parts.