Monday, April 30, 2007
Spam Poem of the Day 2
"And The First Bit Is - Play To Your Strengths."
by Haitham Alshafaey at alshafaeyfdhsk@a-florida-villa.com
The torn canvas flopped like a live thing, crackling out from the main yard.
by Haitham Alshafaey at alshafaeyfdhsk@a-florida-villa.com
The torn canvas flopped like a live thing, crackling out from the main yard.
Spam Poem of the Day
"Osman and Ayesha"
by Kai Carrel
The inconsolable Osman ran to Ayesha (who had put on a dirty sari as a concession to urban prudery, even though butterfly clouds still trailed off her like glory).
by Kai Carrel
The inconsolable Osman ran to Ayesha (who had put on a dirty sari as a concession to urban prudery, even though butterfly clouds still trailed off her like glory).
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Spam Poetry Number 5
This one came with one of those image ads. Read the poem and see if you can guess what product was being promoted. Answer at the end.*
"Cristina"
by Shelba Karyl (madeleinenicoli@worldofbowls.com)
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
Is the moon to grow
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
From point to point of meaning—open? closed?—
The bees are buzzing,
and turn it into something cartoon-funny.
That only you and I can know. Les deux
Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,
Given by nature will soak into it.
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
II. Quest and Conquest
XXI. Flying in the Arctic
Will hear the storm-blast of his clarion.
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
The winged winds, captives of that age-old foe
*It was with an ad for Viagra.
"Cristina"
by Shelba Karyl (madeleinenicoli@worldofbowls.com)
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
Is the moon to grow
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
From point to point of meaning—open? closed?—
The bees are buzzing,
and turn it into something cartoon-funny.
That only you and I can know. Les deux
Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,
Given by nature will soak into it.
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
II. Quest and Conquest
XXI. Flying in the Arctic
Will hear the storm-blast of his clarion.
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
The winged winds, captives of that age-old foe
*It was with an ad for Viagra.
Labels: poem, poetry, spam, spam poetry
Monday, April 23, 2007
Spam Poetry 4
"shortcake"
by spammer Buddy Andersen, mthome@kingcrableg.com
shortcake, waffles, berries and cream
Its consciousness of my white consciousness,
This gap in time, this season not their own,
When I am heard, and what I say is solely
Yes. The obvious
He is harsh, dismal, ice—that is, exiled;
This perfection, this absence.
Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,
Covering the land—
Two of us, Docteur and Madame Machin, who stand
With a hand freed from weight,
More beautiful than anything in this world.
This perfection, this absence.
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
Trampled snow is the only rose.
End of the comedy.
Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at last
By bloody pool—rattling, gasping his last.
Shadows keep piling up as surfaces
by spammer Buddy Andersen, mthome@kingcrableg.com
shortcake, waffles, berries and cream
Its consciousness of my white consciousness,
This gap in time, this season not their own,
When I am heard, and what I say is solely
Yes. The obvious
He is harsh, dismal, ice—that is, exiled;
This perfection, this absence.
Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,
Covering the land—
Two of us, Docteur and Madame Machin, who stand
With a hand freed from weight,
More beautiful than anything in this world.
This perfection, this absence.
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
Trampled snow is the only rose.
End of the comedy.
Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at last
By bloody pool—rattling, gasping his last.
Shadows keep piling up as surfaces
Labels: poem, spam, spam poetry
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Whither art spam poetry?
So I've been getting this spam poetry for a while, and I've only now gotten the idea of where it comes from.It turns out that due to increasingly sophisticated spam filtering software spam marketers are required to think up more and more creative ways of getting spam past the filter and into your inbox. Spam filters rely partially on keywords to parse out spam messages - for example a message containing the word "viagra" and very few other non-spam words would be certain to go to your spam filter.
To get past these obnoxious roadblocks, spammers moved to image based spam - embedding their message into an icon that a spam filter wouldn't be able to read.
But then the images started getting blocked.
Now they accompany the image with some ambiguous text, best left up to English PhDs and Milton scholars to interpret.
According to Zeek:
"The reason spam is couched in nonsense-text has to do with statistical methods devised by the 18th century English theologian-mathematician Thomas Bayes. Bayesian filters rank each word in an email according to how likely it is to be spam. If the email contains a high number of non-spam words, it can elude such filters."
So now we've gotten to the point where it's impossible to tell the art apart from the sales pitch. Who is writing what we are reading? A computer? And more importantly who is buying what they're selling? We may now be at the point where spam poetry has transcended the sales pitch and is an art form in and of itself. When marketers realize it isn't working, and the subsequent crackdown on spam art happens, will there be a La Boheme-esque art riot in the virtual street? Time will tell.
Labels: poem, poetry, spam, spam poetry
Spam Poetry Part 3
Another poem I received today, encased in Spam
"What is There in the Depths of These Walls"
by Sheldon Hayes
to matter, for the flushed boys are muscular
And still my mind goes groping in the mud to bring
Along the walls are only empty niches,
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
X. The British Attack on the Arctic
Through the back of the picture at the patch of white
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
Against this sky no longer of our world.
From there. Toward . . .
It's snowing, it's returning to a town
Side of the painting, the world of that wise, white,
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
Yes. You'd want that said, (if you
Covering the land—
Of the matter of snow here. Both of us have grasped
By trees—or might see as the masonry
Writhing their stunted limbs,
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
What is there in the depths of these walls
"What is There in the Depths of These Walls"
by Sheldon Hayes
to matter, for the flushed boys are muscular
And still my mind goes groping in the mud to bring
Along the walls are only empty niches,
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
X. The British Attack on the Arctic
Through the back of the picture at the patch of white
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
Against this sky no longer of our world.
From there. Toward . . .
It's snowing, it's returning to a town
Side of the painting, the world of that wise, white,
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
Yes. You'd want that said, (if you
Covering the land—
Of the matter of snow here. Both of us have grasped
By trees—or might see as the masonry
Writhing their stunted limbs,
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
What is there in the depths of these walls
Labels: poem, poetry, spam, spam poetry
Saturday, April 21, 2007
New Spam poetry!
"MIT or Princeton"
by spammer Hanna libunao
The result was, when guys at MIT or Princeton
had trouble doing a certain integral,
it was because they couldn't do it
with the standard methods they had learned in school.
by spammer Hanna libunao
The result was, when guys at MIT or Princeton
had trouble doing a certain integral,
it was because they couldn't do it
with the standard methods they had learned in school.
Jason stared at Richards, expecting support,
but Richards merely smiled.
but Richards merely smiled.
They all unpack into the subdirectory bigforth.
He occasionally professed concern for her,
and a few times,
something akin to affection.
and a few times,
something akin to affection.
You still don't understand.
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
Gets the row type.
See checked Set default expression evaluation to checked (or unchecked).
Making a backup of your system is also advisable.
The result was, when guys at MIT or Princeton
had trouble doing a certain integral,
it was because they couldn't do it
with the standard methods they had learned in school.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Dear Chase...
Dear Chase,I just paid my monthly credit card bill and noticed that the finance charge was $33.85 and the minimum payment was $34. I am curious - how is the finance charge used by the company? Do you invest it in any kind of fund? Is there a mob boss? Where does it go?
Also, understanding the basics of math, I realized that I was paying $.15 towards the principle. With my debt being a shade over $1000 at this rate, with no late fees, raises in interest rates, or additional charges, I will pay off my credit card in 6,666 months, or 555 years.
Someday down the road, hopefully very soon (but not likely), I will be able to afford to pay higher than the minimum monthly balance. See, I used to have a decent paying job that allowed me to afford the luxuries, like toilet paper and doctor's appointments. Now, I am but a lowly student and using you to scrape by, paying of the balance bit by miserable bit.
However, I would like to suggest a more creative alternative to paying my minimum monthly balance: I would like to voluntarily become an indentured servant of the Chase credit card company.
I am capable of many kinds of servitude. While I am formally trained in the field of technological communications, I am great to have around the house. I am a decent cook - I make omelets, excellent lasagna, and even crepes. I am also very good at cleaning. Anything. You name it - floors, bathrooms, office spaces. I'll clean chairs, coffeepots, filing cabinets, lots of things. You won't even have to tell me - I can look at your space and you can leave me alone for a while and I'll just clean the whole thing. You'll be surprised when you come back to find that the space you left me in not only a few hours ago is spic and span.
Would you like me to be a personal shopper? While I haven't been known as the best gift giver within a budget (hence my credit card bill), I'll try to be better for you. If you tell me it's your mother-in-law's birthday, or maybe the anniversary of when you merged with Bank One (coming up on two years this May, guys! Get with the program!), I'd be fairly capable of buying the right gift to mark the occasion.
What else? Do you have crops? Fields? Acres of untended land? While I am not a farmer, I know that in the old days many indentured servants used to tend the fields of a lord. Should you need this kind of work done, I certainly think I could figure out how to plant and sow, reap, harvest. Y'know. All that stuff. My grandparents had a farm.
Also, I imagine that you have a lot of folks indebted to you that would much rather declare bankruptcy than pay you. Obviously that results in lower profits for you. While I am not a threatening individual to look at, I took a few classes in Aikido while on study abroad a couple years ago. This was taught to me as a martial art of self-defense, not offense, but I would consider acting in defense of your honor an act of self-defense. Just point me in the direction of someone who owes you money and I'll take care of them. You won't even be troubled with it - you'll just get the check.
I leave it up to you if you want to take me up on it. I can certainly provide enough service to your company to pay off the debt and a considerable amount of the interest that you might have otherwise accumulated. While indentured servitude might be somewhat outdated and I think technically illegal I'm sure we could figure this out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement without legal or PR consequences.
I would also be willing to be a concubine. Just so you know...
Labels: chase, concubine, credit card, indentured servant
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Remix Culture: The Early Years
In a world where everyone is a content creator...
In a world where distribution methods are ubiquitous...
In a world where it is socially acceptable (but technically illegal) to remix, rip, and mash up other people's video and music to make your own product...
...we pose the question: "Who's gonna sue me for this?"
Created for the Center for Social Media
In a world where distribution methods are ubiquitous...
In a world where it is socially acceptable (but technically illegal) to remix, rip, and mash up other people's video and music to make your own product...
...we pose the question: "Who's gonna sue me for this?"
Created for the Center for Social Media
Labels: Center for Social Media, Copyright, Mashup, music, Remix, video, Youtube
Monday, April 2, 2007
Food Related Theoretical Science Proves Evolution Wrong YET AGAIN!
You all may remember a previous post in which God's Army disqualified the atheistic faith in evolution by means of a banana.
Another scientifical film also uses the latest in advanced food and nutrition research to put those atheists in their place.
Another scientifical film also uses the latest in advanced food and nutrition research to put those atheists in their place.
