No, I am not talking about the Monty Python version of spam, but that less nutritious version that plops into our in-boxes not daily, but by the hour and the minute!
Oh, it was so nice of the UN to write to me personally telling me some distant relative in some unnamed country has left me millions, which are all tied up in that unnamed county’s banks. And that I would have to submit a form, duly filled out with all my personal and banking details, so they could make sure I got my inheritance.
And wasn’t it nice of General Ungagwa’s wife to write to me personally, and let me know that I could help her get her husband’s considerable (stolen) fortune out of Nigeria. She would be only too willing to cut me a big pay check. All I need to do is facilitate moving these millions from her late husband’s bank, to mine, and I would be rich … yeah! Sure!
You know I get as much fun reading the SPAM mail in my Gmail inbox, as I do picking up the latest thriller from Tom Clancy. They are nearly as inventive as the man himself, in coming up with these weird and wonderful plots and scenarios to get us to part with our banking details, as the Russians are at manipulating American’s into voting for Donald Trump—a failed entrepreneur and dud reality TV star—as President of the United States of America.
All endlessly fascinating I’m sure, and great fodder, as in there, somewhere, is a book. But thank the small gods of the internet and Google for syphoning off said email into a spam folder, and allowing us to delete them all, en-masse!
Click, click, delete … bye!