05 Mar 2006
SPAM from Planet Dyslexia

SPAMOne of my least favorite topics is SPAM - but sometimes it's so weird that you just have to say something back. Or about. If you don't, you'll just run screaming from the room in abject terror of the mental powers, or rather, the lack thereof, of the folks that craft this crap. Are they really human?

All too, it would seem, according to Mary Beth Crain. She has some interesting thoughts on the origin of missives that I've described as SPAM From The Insane Asylum:

I have decided that spam is actually gibberish from the evil planet Dyslexia. The Dyslexians send cryptic, backwards and upside-down looking messages on weird, sinister sounding subjects like “arsenate disastrous madeira adrenaline fringe,” “philadelphia not matchmaker or vorticity,” “do live no bunkered autoeroticism,” “the doralynn it reek,” “it ask no tumultuous intern consult” and “was wakeup he yaw!”

And after you've stopped laughing you'll find her essay becomes rather poignant - a rarity in this day and age of grossness and slapstick passing as humor. She does the tradition of Jonathan Swift proud: she really gets the intimate connection between humor and pathos, and exploits it to the hilt in this very well done essay.

Nothing for Something: Beware the siren call of spam.

(link) [SOMA Review]

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