In praise of accidental high literature & poetry

Got somehow fooled this morning (again!) into opening what I thought was a legit piece of email and of course it was a piece of spam but the skill and cunning required to get it past the GoogleMail/GMail spam filters (I forward all mail sent to my and other similar email addresses to my main Gmail account so that the universe-class firewalls and filters that Google provides for free can do their job) was a true work of art.

I’ve mused on this topic before within the bowels of my personal sections of my website in Spam-Poetry where I harvested random bits of text-fluff from the taglines of spam designed to try to get past spam filter gatekeepers and compressed them like so many bits of curddled milk into something resembling a block of cheese-poetry which actually is pretty amusing to read, but the filter-fooler-tagline this morning in that silly bit of ethereal horsedung just somehow struck me as near-high-art in short story writing skills, so I present it to you my dear reader unedited:

The chieftain appeared to doubt the wisdom of the enterprise, not being able to understand how the boy could expect to succeed; but he graciously issued the required order, and by the time Rob reached the city gate he found a large group of Tatars gathered to support him, while the entire camp, roused to interest in the proceedings, stood looking on. Rob cared little for the quarrel between the Turks and Tatars, and under ordinary circumstances would have refused to side with one or the other; but he knew he could not hope to recover his electrical machines unless the city was taken by the band of warriors who had befriended him, so he determined to force an entrance for them

Without hesitation he walked close to the great gate and shattered its fastenings with the force of the electric current directed upon them from the tube. Then, shouting to his friends the Tatars for assistance, they rushed in a body upon the gate and dashed it open.

Just shaking my head…


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