If Spammers Behaved the Same Way in Person

Picture yourself at a party. You're digging the tunes. You've got a small plate holding mystery-filled pastry puffs in one hand, and a frosty beverage in the other. You're chatting to old friends and new. And then the door bursts open.

A person you've never seen before enters. He is wearing a plaid jacket and a big beaming grin. On the jacket, he has pinned hundreds of random items.

He walks over to your discussion group. You've been talking about a movie you all really enjoyed. He listens a moment, smiles, nods and says:

"Roquefort cheese is made through an elaborate process which encourages the cheese to mold. It must be done in a cheese press, promoting air pockets in the milk, and by carefully monitoring air temperature and humidity. To learn more about buying fresh bleu cheeses, check this out."

He unclips one of the products on his jacket and hands it to you. It is a Wide World of Bleu Cheese brochure and something which may or may not be an actual sample of bleu cheese, but which smells suspiciously like rubber.

You hand it back to him saying you're lactose unsupportive, excuse yourself and decide to join another group quickly-- one perhaps less... cheese-infested.

Here, your friends are talking about some hot new technology you find fascinating. But you're only there for a moment when the Plaid-Clad Stranger shows up again. You're just in the middle of saying why you prefer this new technology over the old, when the stranger taps you on the shoulder and interjects:

"Conundrum spatula seven colander summertime Lord Byron hiccups."

You blink. Everyone in your circle stops what they're doing and stares.

The stranger doesn't seem to notice this reaction. In fact, he looks terribly pleased with himself. And this time, instead of passing out a brochure, he saunters away to another group of guests himself.

Well, now you're wondering what's wrong with this guy. Your eyes track him to where the host of the party is standing. The host is busy refreshing drinks, introducing folks who haven't met each other before, and making everyone feel at home.

And right in the middle of pouring martinis, the Plaid Stranger stops the host with a firm hand on his arm and proclaims:

"I like this forum. It is very good informative and overflow with happy niceness. I will return much often.... Antarctic brides! Meet hot Antarctic brides!"

And he thrusts one of the packages from his jacket at the host, which appears to be a knock-off Barbie doll wearing a fur hat with earflaps. The host is frozen with confusion. And that's when the stranger starts grabbing at the host's pants pocket, trying to relieve him of his wallet.

A few guests slap the Stranger off. "What are you doing? Who is this guy? Did you invite him? I didn't invite him!"

At this point, the Stranger is being ushered out of the room, shouting in a tongue no one understands:

"Uybay ymay oductspray! Akemay igbay ashcay! On'tday ismay outay!"

The host is explaining desperately that, no, he has no idea who this guy is and maybe they should call the cops. Together, you manage to shove the Plaid Stranger out of the apartment, and you lock the door behind him.

Hands trembling with irritation, your host is pouring himself a martini. He shakes his head and pours you one, too. He says this is the third time this has happened this week, and he just keeps reporting it.

You can still see the shadow of stranger's feet hovering outside the door.

"Good morning, Sun Shines! " he says through the wall. "But I think you're wrong! This is very helpful to me but needs more gooder information yet. Contact me to discuss!"

So you do the only logical thing you can think of. You turn the music up. Way up.

New Year's Resolutions for Somebody Else

Well, last year, I'd posted about the things I resolved not to do for 2009.

This year, I've decided to post suggested New Year's Resolutions for people who are not, in fact, me.

See, I know me. I know that I could vow to... oh... eat fewer french fries. Or to exercise for two hours every day. Or to own only one pair of black shoes at a time.

But I also know I'll have forgotten about each and every one of those resolutions by the Ides of March. (Partly, it's because I get distracted, wondering when we stopped using the word "ides" to mean mid-month-- I mean, no one ever tells you your credit card bill is due "ides-ish.")

So, I figure if I want to make some resolutions that are going to fall through anyway, I might as well make them for someone else. Someone who can really use them.

Like this:

• Charlie Sheen. Charlie... dude. Enough with the hookers and wife-beating and weaponry. It's getting old and boring, like Viagra jokes on a long-drawn-out sitcom. (Not that you know anything about that.) Surprise us for 2010. Join a cult or organized religious group or something. It could even successfully spill over into your series: "Two and a Half Monks." You're good at physical comedy, so the vow of silence shouldn't be a problem, plus, it will cut costs in the writing department. Think about it.

• People Who Comment Passionately on News Sites. Did you know that you can make your paranoid rants, non sequiter commentary, and parroted talking points in reaction to news articles even more effective? Well, you can! For 2010, consider learning to spell "losers" and "riddance." "Looser" is what happens to your waistband when you drop a pants size. And "riddens" is just an overzealous misapplication of Hooked on Phonics. Calling a group of people "loosers" is, perhaps, not the way to establish the intellectual credibility you're seeking. I mean, I know you could also avoid name-calling completely and debate the actual issues like an adult. But I recognize that's probably asking a lot. It's "losers." Good "riddance" to them. And you're welcome.
  

• Spammers. Spammers, I understand you're really devoted to your craft. I know you are desperate to have your unsubtle sales messaging nestled into the comments section of my blogs like a happily feasting tick on an overweight Golden Retriever. But did you know that even if, for some reason, I accidentally approve one of those nuggets of nonsense, when you place it on a blog where the audience doesn't read Japanese... or Russian... or French.... or ancient Mesopotamian.... you are, in fact, wasting a spam? So for 2010, why not resolve to actually, oh, do some research on the blogs you're spamming? Spam English-speaking blogs in English. Japanese in Japanese. Don't insert comments responding to a post about technology, when the post is actually about green beans. This is not to say I'll ever approve your comments. But at least you can say you've elevated your game. And that should make you feel all warm and gooey inside. Again, like that tick.

• Jon Gosselin. As the clock hits midnight on New Year's Eve and it ticks through those very first fifteen minutes of 2010, look around you, Jon. Notice the lack of TV cameras directed at you. Observe the place where groupies do not drool. Think about those first fifteen minutes of this new decade. Recognize they are not very much like those fifteen minutes of fame you had back in 2009. And then resolve to stop trying to get them back with manufactured drama that comes off like it's been scripted by a high schooler whose watched too many Melrose Place reruns. Yup, Jon, it's time you leave the attention-getting-with-no-observable-talent to Paris Hilton. It's her Niche Super Power. There can be only One. Move along, sonny.

Well, those are the main Resolutions I'd wanted to offer up. I suppose, in reading this over, I really should step forward, and resolve something myself. Like to be less sarcastic for 2010. But---

Hey, did you ever wonder why we only ever hear about "ides" in relation to March? Did Shakespeare completely corner the market on "ides"?

Oh, sorry-- what was I saying before?

Well, nevermind. Happy New Year to you all! And thanks for helping to make it a great 2009!

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Humorbloggers
Humor-blogs

With Friends Like These: Abusive Spam Relationships

Friendship. It means different things to different people. But I am willing to bet you dollars to donuts (mmm.... donuts) that it does not mean what I'm about to describe to you today.

Monday, I was notified I had a message in one of my social media shoutboxes, so I went to see who had popped by.

Turns out, it was someone I'd never seen on the boards before. For purposes of preserving his anonymity, we shall call him... (and yes, this might be a tad subtle, so bear with me on this) ... "Spamboy."

Pretend you have no idea where this is going.

So Spamboy left me a note to tell me that I had an absolutely astounding example of blogkind ("Nice blog.") and that because of it, he felt compelled to extend to me the virtual handshake of online brotherhood ("I frend U, frend me 2").

Naturally, I read this message and, as warm feelings of joy and camaraderie flooded my heart, I did what any self-respecting blogger would do.

I hit the "Spam" button and binned it.

Okay, now fast-forward to ten minutes later.

"You have a Shoutbox message from Spamboy!" said my email.

And I went to my shoutbox expecting to see a query from Spamboy wondering why I reported his note of goodwill and love as spam. When I read:

"Nice blog. I frend U, frend me 2."

Erm, yeah.

So that message was filed accordingly. And I forgot about Spamboy in the click of the report button.

Yup, it was surprisingly easy for me to move on from this relationship. I answered some client questions. I noodled with a bit of text editing and then, about ten minutes later...

"You have a Shoutbox message from Spamboy!" my email told me.

"Oh, I just bet I do."

And there in my shoutbox was a carefully-written note expressing everything Spamboy had been thinking about our long-abiding frend-ship, and how we could make it work:

"Nice blog. I frend U, frend me 2."

At this, I decided to shoutbox Spamboy-- or what was quickly appearing to be Spamboy's Mass Friend Adoration Expression Robot-- regarding the goals and concerns I was developing regarding our bon amie:

"You have spammed me three times now. Please stop."

And then I sent his message into the special container where I store this sort of meaningful correspondence.

Back to the editing. Back to the being a productive citizen and whatnot. Back to a Spamboy-free life.

"You have a Shoutbox message from Spamboy!"

So I raced to my shoutbox--

"Nice blog. I frend-- "

--And hit the "Block" button this time.

"There, Spamboy! Take that! No frend for you! No more Miss Nice Blog! Hit the Internet highway, ya spammer, and don't come back. Ya bother me, kid!"

Phew! I wiped my brow, took a sip of soothing herbal tea, and went back to work. The wonderful thing about social media, you know, is that you are never without recourse. Never without the ultimate control. You always have options to help yourself when issues arise and...

"You have a new blog review!" my email told me.

"A new review? Why, let me go see!! Just who is it that has taken a fancy to the ol' blog site? Who is it that I have reached through consistent posting, whimsy and a well-meaning attempt at general good-eggishness?"

"Nice blog.
I frend U, frend me 2
--Spamboy
http://spamboysspammyspamurl.com"

And the rating? ONE star.

Yup, Spamboy pulled down my perfect five-star rating. It tell ya, with friends like these...

Or maybe he was trying to spell "fiend"?

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Did Spamboy hit your shoutbox recently, too? Do you have a tale of spam and heartache to share? I'd enjoy hearing about it.

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Humor-blogs
Humorbloggers

The Toddler Labor Spam Conspiracy

I have this theory that underworld international spam organizations are actually being manned by technologically-advanced toddler laborers working under pseudonyms. And this is why:


Determination.
Toddlers in the 2-3 year old age range know what they want, and they do not get tired for the asking. A smart toddler can ask "why?" or "are we there yet?" 400 times in succession and not get bored. They rapid-fire these questions in the very same way spammers send spam-- determined to give you their message whether you want it or not.

And spammers don't get bored, either. Why, this weekend, I had a spammer personally spamming my comments by hand (no computer program for him or her!), every couple of hours for a day and a half.

(I got some reprieve during bedtime and what I now believe was naptime.)

Each time he'd post his same spam comment, and each time I'd delete it. If we'd had an actual dialogue, I think it would have gone something like this:

SPAMMER: "Here is my URL in a random message that has nothing to do with your post! Enjoy!"

ME: "Nope. Sorry, pal!" (Delete.)

(Two hours pass.)

SPAMMER: "Okay, how about now?"

ME: "No. Go away." (Delete.)

(Four hours pass.)

SPAMMER: "Now?"

ME: "What about this process isn't getting through to you?" (Delete.)

(Naptime. Six hours pass)

SPAMMER: (Chooses a more obscure post to post the link on.) "Here then?"

ME: "Take a hike." (Delete.)

SPAMMER: (Selects a post far in the Cabbages archives, whining) "Oh, but why NOTTTTTT?"

ME: "Because I said so, that's why!" (Delete.)

Spammers can send you 200 spam in an hour, believing more of them will be more effective. That is toddler thinking for you. Consider how long a toddler is content to kick your chair on an airplane with their cute little shoes.

Spam is like getting repeatedly kicked in the small of the back with tiny pink Keds on a seven hour flight.


Inability to spell.
Children's Hospital of Boston indicates that, developmentally, a 3-year-old toddler can say up to 900 different words. This is all a spammer really needs to get the point across. And note how spammers generally can't spell. We've previously chalked this up to spam originating from countries of fewer educational opportunities across class lines, as well as English not being the spammer's native language. But I think this is, in fact, because many spam programs these days are being implemented by clever toddlers who got Hooked on Phonics and enjoy a bit of extra spending money for those trips to the toy store:

"Boss give hard time? Get new job immeditly now!"

"Be your one boss!"

"Cheep meds for u!"

"Goodiest Cristy Proposal!"

"Prequal ing Loans!"

"Faimilies Loose There Homes a Week!"

Toddlers aren't sticklers for accuracy. Whether it's coloring outside the lines, or general grammar, they're okay with it as long as they think you get the gist of their demands. How different is this from spammers? I think if spam messages were hand-written instead of typed we would see they were written in crayon and all of the Rs would be backwards.


Obsession with genitalia.
Pediatrics guides indicate that toddlers are naturally curious about their bodies, and if left unchecked, they may showcase this at the mall, or at your family reunion picnic.

Spammers are extremely interested in the human body, too. In fact, spammers are happy to share with you far, far more information about their interest in sex-- and genitalia, in general-- than you ever really want to discuss. Size in particular is fascinating to spammers, while we know toddlers also like to compare and contrast.


Self-centered behavior.
Development guides indicate that toddlers view their worlds from a lens that the world revolves around them. It's partially because they have not yet learned to share, or develop the emotional range needed for empathy, and also because up until this time, their parents have catered to their needs to help them grow and thrive.

Spammers are similarly self-centered. Your blog goals, topic, tone and desire to maintain quality are not important to them. Nor is clutter in your In-box. If your email crashes due to too many spam messages, well, them's is just the breaks. Spammers just want to drop their links, and they want to drop them NOW. That is what matters.

How different is this from your average pre-schooler?


So those are the main reason I suspect that toddlers are being leveraged by spam companies for elaborate spamming campaigns. I don't have any solid proof yet, but here's where you folks could help.

Parents of toddlers, if you see your little Timmy or Hannah on the computer doing what you THINK is just doodling in Paint, or playing around at Barbie.com, or watching Baby Einstein videos on Utube... double check that. Is Entourage, Thunderbird or Gmail mysteriously minimized on the screen?

Check the online Trash bin. Are there 400 email sent messages to a blind distribution list with a title like "Bye propertea cheap, good deal!"?

Now check the young'un's piggy bank. Make sure it contains only a small, normal amount of pennies nickels, dimes and quarters one would expect to see in a toddler's bank.

But if you see any paper money over a $50 bill that isn't blue or orange, send me a note, will you? Because then this theory might require further investigation.

This blog post was sponsored by the letter Q.

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Vote for this post at Humor-blogs.

Spamming with the Stars

Jack Bauer emailed me. Yep, he took time out of his busy 24-hour-working-day of saving the country from terrorists, head-butting baddies, and being tortured-- where every second counts-- to send little ol' me an important message about...

Male enhancement.

What a guy! I mean where, in his jam-packed schedule, would he even get the time to devote to this sort of public service? To care about the, er, little people out there?

I guess maybe in the eight minutes of commercial breaks each episode. Presumably when he also pees.

You'd just think this sort of online support could be delegated to a trusted friend at CTU, or something. Like Chloe. But not our Jack. Nope, it's so like him, isn't it? He just has to do everything himself.

Well, right as I was wondering how my purchasing male enhancement products from dodgy, semi-anonymous companies online could contribute to the greater good of America, and I considered delving beyond the mere subject line... get this:

Writer Jean Shepherd (A Christmas Story) emailed me, too! Which really impressed me, since not only didn't I envision him as being particularly tech-savvy, but he's also been dead for several years. I mean, now, I know the Internet is far-reaching, but this was absolutely astounding!

And what had our dear departed Mr. Shepherd come all the way from beyond the grave to say? What wisdom did he have to impart? His life's philosophy? The need to smoke fewer cigars? To share writing tips? Why, he came and created an email account to spread the word about...

Male enhancement!

I was starting to spot a trend.

Heh. It makes you sorta wonder what's in the spammers' minds, doesn't it? I mean, as far as marketing goes, perhaps we really are all self-absorbed enough to believe a famous person not only has our private email address but is going to take the time to send us a personalized note out of the blue.

But are we really out-of-touch enough to open and respond to email from fictional characters and dead celebs?

Maybe it's the spam equivalent of crank yanking. The email equivalent of calling and asking if Seymour Butz is there. The spammers are all at their computer terminals snickering and saying, "Let's see how they respond to... Bruce Wayne!"

And then they get this influx of payments from guys using their DC Comics special Dark Knight collector's edition Visa cards or something.

I don't know how it works, really.

And I guess I'll never find out, because my lack of response must have cut off my connection with the spirit world. Yes, indeedy, ol' Jean Shepherd never emailed me again. It's a shame, too, because I had a ton of questions about the writing process and--

Oh, wait: Charlotte Bronte just sent me a note! And it looks like she has an important message for me about timeshares in Nigeria.

I really hate to sidetrack her-- I mean, I don't get a lot of vacation time for a trip to Nigeria-- but while I have her attention, maybe I can ask her just a few questions about Jane Eyre...

What do you think? :)

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I wonder if Jack Bauer ever sends email to the folks at Humor-blogs?

Which E-mail Personality Type are YOU?

Forwards, spams, scams, notes from family and friends... It all ends up in our email Inboxes and we each have our own way of dealing with it.

So here at Of Cabbages and Kings, our diligent team of researchers... (okay, well, the Jane Austen bobblehead on my desk and I)

...have done an in-depth examination (spending a whole half hour)

...of the way Internet users approach email.

As a result of our exhaustive efforts (30 minutes, maybe 25)...

we have developed a wholly scientific and not at all overly-broad and archetypal list (lightning shoots down from the sky to strike me-- zot!)...

Of common personality types of today's e-mail communicators. Perhaps you know e-mailers whose style fits within these finely-tuned categories (off the top of my head)...

Or perhaps, like me, you're one of them yourself. We hope that you will share your experiences, so we can develop an even more precise (lightly tweaked) analysis in the future.

• "The Serial Forwarder." Whatever email enters this person's Inbox is so funny, interesting, or important, the Serial Forwarder can't resist sending it to everyone in their email address book. This person tends to send these forwards in clusters, as they go through their own email. So recipients are often bombarded with correspondence over a short period of time. Serial Forwarders also skim and send email quickly, taking no time to remove the email addresses of every other person who has also forwarded the message. This means the message is either one within the other to infinity, like a Russian nesting doll, or you must scroll miles southward to see the message. Note: this is the same person unlikely to ever have sent you a letter, because "stamps are expensive these days.

• "The Concerned Citizen." Similar to the Serial Forwarder in the penchant for passing along information, the Concerned Citizen tends to lean almost exclusively toward the Public Service aspects of e-mail forwarding. While this type is unlikely to send a hokey joke forward, they will ensure you (and all 300 of their closest friends) are aware that hook-handed men are breaking into cars in shopping malls to steal your kidneys. Concerned Citizens mean well, they really do, but would rather "play it safe" by forwarding, than by accidentally mistaking a real news story for an urban legend-- and then learning their friend or family member is dead and kidneyless. They don't know about Snopes.com.

• "The Ingenue." No matter what spam or scam ends up in this person's email box, they will believe the offer is real. Nigerian diplomats wanting to let them in on a quick cash, winning the Greater Mesopotamian Lotto in spite of never entering it, photographs showing the sinking of the Titanic was all a fake, these good, trusting folks are ready to believe.

• "The Enigma." This person rarely, if ever, gives context for why they're sending you the link or post that they e-mail. In some way, the piece has reminded them of you. And it is up to you to click and figure out just how it relates. A conversation you had three years ago? Something that may have happened in your local news? A story related to the former boyfriend of your cousin's ex-roommate? No summary, no inkling. Enigma's tend to require more time than other email personality types because the amount of time on your end for deciphering is inversely proportional to the amount of time it took them to write the message.

• "The Loud Talker." This person has been smart and brave enough to make the leap to computers, but writes everything using capital letters. This could be because they aren't fully familiar with the keyboard yet, or because they think capital letters are easier to read. What they don't understand is that online, writing all in caps is considered shouting. Be very, very careful when you explain to Loud Talkers the online etiquette regarding capital letters. They have accomplished much by learning to go online, and tend to be sensitive about their skills. Any implication of inadvertent wrongdoing may be taken very personally. Loud Talkers have been known to bite.

• "The Black Hole." This person has a valid email address, and knows how to operate their machine. But any e-mail you send them goes into the vast, matter-sucking void that is their Inbox, never to be seen again. An interesting aspect of The Black Hole is that this same person may contact you months or a year later, indicating they haven't heard from YOU in a while, as if you had neglected them.

• "The Fountain." This person has a lot to say, and is not afraid to say it. Each email is a novella, encapsulating the smallest details of any particular event. This information is rarely broken up by paragraphs, making it almost impossible to weed through on-screen. The Fountain tends to send these to your work email, so you can get the latest news immediately. Not that you can read it.

• "The Premature Sender." This person is still learning how to work the computer, and gets a bit over-excited about it. You never get a full email from them. Their communications die in mid-sentence because they clicked the mouse too soon. Expect a follow-up. Or three.

• "The Second Opinion Forwarder." I fall into this category, I'm afraid. This is the person who sees something that fascinates them personally online, and it's not good enough that he or she has read it themselves. Oh, no!-- it has to be shared with SOMEONE-- whether or not the recipient actually cares about the topic much or not. The Second Opinion Forwarder is also the type of person who, in any crowd, will witness something that is shocking and ask companions, "Did you see THAT?" No one ever has.

• "The Misinformation Avenger." This is the person who develops deep rage and frustration over the chaotic array of lies, inaccuracies and urban legends received from the Serial Forwarder, the Concerned Citizen and the Ingenue and feels it's his or her personal duty to use the email medium to try to disabuse these people of their notions and habits. The target of the Misinformation Avenger in these cases can range anywhere from mild acquaintances to dear old Mom. No one is exempt from their swift justice!

• "The Generous Newbie." Generous Newbies have just discovered the wonders of the Internet, and they are prepared to share it with YOU no matter how long you've been online. They may not barrage you with links and posts like the Serial Forwarder, but the ones they send are just great, amazing, hysterical and "Must see!"-- and you have. About a thousand times. From every new Generous Newbie that's come along. Since about 1993.
  

Which personality types seem familiar to you? Science is demanding to know! (PS- Special thanks to Stoneman and Techfun for their invaluable input on the last two personality types. Cheers, guys!)

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At Humor-blogs, they don't send you forwards expecting to see the Taco Bell dog magically appear once it's gone to 400 close friends.

To Google, With Love

My Dearest Google:

Something’s come between us, and I thought we should clear the air.

I post, and you ignore me. I add my feeds, and you turn away, as if I’d never typed.

Your friends, in Webmaster Tools, claim my pages are indexed... but no traffic do I see. I fear I know the score; they’re just telling me what you’ve told them to say. What you think I want to hear.

And then I learned today, from an insightful friend, that you think I’m not good enough for you.

You think the archives of content, which were a labor of love so many years ago, you think they were… SCRAPED. Stolen. Some illicit business on the side.

But I tell ya, I’m misunderstood is all, Google! I’m the same gal you always knew. The gal who wrote regularly. Who always had something original. And even did her own photos so as to avoid any copyright issues. I haven’t changed!

It was a bum rap, see? It was all in the past. An old site with my content on it that just had never come down. A mistake. That content was mine for the taking, Google. Mine! Mine, I tell you!

So I’m trying to make it up to you, Google. I’ve gotten rid of the archives that made you so steamed. And I’ve gotten my old hosts to finally pull the dead site.

It was an honest mistake, you see. I’m not one of the baddies—the kind writers like me fight every day in this great big world of the web. I’m one of the good guys. And I hope I can earn your love once more.

Try and remember how much we've shared, dear Google. Why, we've even got two blogs together! So maybe you can see fit to send just a little traffic my way?

You may not realize it, but you really do need me, just a little. In a land of spammers and scammers, you need all the real content generators... the writers.... the ones who truly care... that you can get. So, please say we can work this out?

I’ll be waiting right here for ya, sweetie.

XXXXOOOOO
Jenn


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Well, at least Google loves Humor-blogs...