|
{the golden age of spam} john common I think it might have passed us by... The Golden Age of Spam. And we weren't even aware, most of us, that large Mardi Gras floats shamelessly pregnant with divinely-inspired holy writ were literally being emailed to us daily... Digital pinatas filled-to-bursting with non-linear inspiration were patiently waiting for us to crack them open with just a little pondering... The universe was hurling mysterious eggs of parallel meaning at our heads. We were too busy to get it. We didn't understand that cream pies of unfathomable beauty were whizzing past our faces. Most of us ducked. It was the rational thing to do. Several years ago, when the universe was absolutely screaming at us, trying to wake us up with her hidden poetry, it hit me like a velvet wrapped brick to the face. I paused long enough to actually read the mumbo jumbo below the viagra-mortgage-software-weightloss spam advertisement in the email. I was astonished. I saw unbelievable phrases. Words strung together in ways that, to this day, I can only understand as a kind of free form haiku sung straight from the mouth of our nascent digital zeitgeist. I started saving these messages. Here is one now... years between the two sisters; and that the younger appeared to be I began the next day with another dive into the Roman bath, and into the most violent heats, and deliver the most withering?possessed to an almost incredible extent, as their histories each knee, to join Mr. and Mrs. Micawber in drinking to all of us cordiality overpowers me. This reception of a shattered fragment country, that it wouldnt be hardly fair to let her go. I once received an email titled "AMBROSIAL SAILOR". After the viagra advertisement, here's what it said: khaki. dexter at fluoride or even ohmmeter as in subvert. horseman was at oases when that happened glucose. What does this mean? But then they started becoming more obscure... I was willingly led farther down the rabbit-hole of this syntactical Rorschach Test. I felt like I was staring at my own subconscious from underneath and behind.. I could feel my dimensions warping. I began hearing a terrible new language, and it almost made sense to me: Earlene was at lobule when that happened modulus. sassafras at otto or even parlay as in caldera. Tanya was at lurk when that happened ?megabit. alkali at delusion or even keith as in elliott. implementation. minnie at romp or even unruly as in hydroelectric. disk was at tangible when that happened many.Ratify at berra supine: Darryl was at colonnade when that happened - anonymous. concerti at germinate or even ow as in medford. Then one day they simply stopped. Like someone unplugging a radio. I stopped receiving this Golden Spam. This Holy Spam. This Apocryphal Spam. This Spurious, Unauthenticated, Shimmering Spam. This Spam I Am. Maybe our spam filters finally won. Maybe the huge corporations' lawyers finally sued the pants off the spammers. Maybe it wasn't supposed to last. Whatever the cause, the universe stopped singing to us though this medium. She moved on. ... A pause for grieving. ... Oh, I still get spam. But it's utterly uninspired. It's chalky and dead and devoid of mystery. I miss her song. For more of John's uncommon work, go to his blog, here: hitrecordandplay.blogspot.com. |
