Thursday, January 30, 2014

Don't Spam on Me

In the good old days before the ubiquitous internet, the phrase, "Don't shit on me" ranked at the top of defensive statements. But with the information age solidly underway, the heralded new protest has become, "Don't spam on me."

Google and other search engines attempt to assure us that spam filters and other such gizmos will protect us from unwanted solicitation. That, however, is not the case with one of my email accounts: the most frequent scam spam that now arrives every day in multiple numbers is the one telling me of a fortune left to me by an aunt in Nigeria or something along those lines. The tactics differ in trying to rid myself of them; the first was to ignore them; then I wrote polite replies; then I replied back to the scam messages in capital letters, FUCK OFF ASSHOLES. However, even this foul language discouraged no one. Probably a virus or a robot does these emails, as any human should be put off by such a response. My latest maneuver: delete as fast as possible to get to the real stuff.

Of course changing an email address to start over anew would be unheard of. Just think, one might lose a new good friend halfway around the globe forever.

So while I hit delete about fifty times a day, there are decided benefits for this blogger who is about to officially become a "senior" citizen. It keeps my brain nimble to see how fast I can detect spam and delete it without inadvertently erasing the next message I want to keep. They say that brain stimulation keeps the aging brain from shrinking and can even grow it. Since crossword puzzles and puzzles in general infuriate and frustrate me (because I suck at them), the dance between my eyes and fingers on the keyboard might do the trick.

The only other problem with this whole internet thing is that my penmanship is starting to look shaky and has lost its beautiful curves and lilts. At first I was concerned that it might be caused by an impending auto-immune disease until it occurred to me: I never write by hand anymore. The only way my fingers know how to move smoothly are on a keyboard.

Worse things could befall a human, so in the meantime I will tap tap tap and be happy. And maybe someday learn how to keep the spam attackers from invading my mailbox.

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