December 21st, 2010

Cautious Pessimism

Unexpected poetry

Just got a bit of undetected spam in the ol' hotmail. It probably slipped through because it didn't include any links, only a solicitation to contact the spammer through msn messenger, but it came with this procedurally generated, yet lovely signature:
Poor girl, she has so much to forget that it is no wonder that sleep,
a round wooden stake, some two and a half or three inches the king in his progresses, and there staid till his majesty
The lines are from Dracula but they appear to have been chopped and recombined, reminiscent of Burroughs' cut-up technique. It's a shame humanity wastes so much processing power on defrauding unsuspecting users when we could be piercing the objective heart of our emotional condition.