Spammers, in an effort to get their messages past spam-blocking software, frequently lace their subject lines and content with random, computer-generated phrases.
The subject lines usually contain three or four words, followed by a string of random alphabetics: “Cheaper than Google AdWords sggbhty ssk wllwkwk,” or “Re: took the kings skhjsk lkes llkde.”
While picking through the spam filter today, it occured to me that these initial phrases could be combined to create a sort of found poetry. The result has a passionate, desperate tone I find strangely attractive.
The lines below, including the title, are lifted ver batim from this morning’s spam. Other than being grouped together, they have not been edited in any way:
Your Special Invite
A hooded man with
depressible initiate bronchus
shouts vexingly:
“Don’t lose at the lottery anymore.
You will be way better in bed.
Destroy your debt.
Start living with cleaner air!
Friend — can you pass this test?”
Sexy student bodies
diffuse disciplinary quadrillion.
Did your name come up a winner?
Get a bigger penis with a NEW pill.
Rate your own credit.
Some Christian likes you.
Stop typing. Start talking.
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