Sunday, 25 March 2007

The Most Beautiful Spam

I never open up spam, but in my gmail account I can read the first few lines of text, and this one intrigued me.
might be more communicative. Try to arrange a meeting. mothers become mothers. Simple enough. the loss. Another individual, who shall be nameless, will supply the lit up with lively color when the back projector came on. riders were tossed to the ground as the sheots recoiled in fear. I one. A wide seat was in the middle and there were two wheels to the massive form, rubbing my nose and sniffling. I had a quick glimpse of Still seven. Still a week. Plenty of time for my good buddy Admiral handed it to me. The Admiral was not happy. His scowl turned to a snarl and he jabbed Aida-is Fido transmitting? But we need something new and different. Thats what we are here for. slowly until they dropped. When I looked around I saw that the gas had fingers through his gray hair, perhaps to see if it was still there. I Im all alone, looking for something in the pool, and have to work very very hard

Is that not beauty?

It got me thinking about cut-ups and the way we cognitively place meaning on strings of words.

Colourless green ideas sleep furiously.

So there is somebody out there who's spamming us all - but in their bid to sell us cheap pharmaceuticals they're using spamoetry. After some research I now know that its used to pass Bayesian filtering systems, but you know, I actually like it. I wish I had more spam (be careful what you wish for...) which was this beautiful.

It makes me think.


Also: walking down the street today, I stopped and found a playing card on the ground. Diamond King.

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