Memo to Spammers, Scammers, and Virus-Writers
The O Pine




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© 2006 Brian F. Schreurs
Even we have a disclaimer.

May you never talk during the movie.
The internet will be noted by historians as one of the greatest inventions of man. Little else in human history has so fundamentally changed the very fabric of society, in such a short time, as the advent of instantanteous, nearly free global communication and information sharing. The collective knowledge of the world is quickly becoming available to anyone, anywhere, at virtually no cost to the individual. It is one of our greatest triumphs as a species.

But for every Michelangelo trying to make the world a better place, there are ten despicable morons trying to figure out how to break the arm of David. These slimy bottom-feeders leech off the internet, sucking its life like a parasite that kills its host only to starve to death itself. These slugs on the sole of humanity's shoe clog traffic, disrupt commerce, sow mistrust, and inflict damage rather than join the majority of well-intending world citizens who look to the future and hope for a better day for mankind.

Well I have a message for you.

To the spammers who spew forth so much garbage that 80% of all e-mail is now unsolicited commercial e-mail: You are the drool on the lips of a dung beetle as it bites down on its latest meal. You are the scent-sac in a flattened skunk on the side of the highway. You are the maggot that crawls from the eye socket of a decomposing toad. May your bills always arrive past due and your paychecks not at all. May you grow a new kidney stone every Thursday. May death forget to take you.

To the spoofers who not only send spam, but do so by hijacking someone else's e-mail account name, forcing them to deal with all of the bounced messages and nasty replies: You are the slime on a boil on a snail's foot. You are the source of the putrid odor that wafts from a sewage plant. You are the foam on the mouth of a rabid mole. May your identity be stolen by a porn addict. May your toenails all grow inward. May your home burn after you light a match to hide the smell.

To the spambot-writers who set their electronic minions loose on the world wide web, collecting more involuntary addresses to sell to the spammers and spoofers: You are the unwanted shell of a crab left to rot by a seagull. You are the pelt of a rat consumed in a tar pit. You are the tail of a fish so empty of value that even the alley cats pass you by. May your garden grow lush but always be eaten by hares. May grasshoppers gnaw off your first knuckles. May your shoes pick up a nail each morning.

To the Nigerian scammers who have indelibly made the name of their homeland synonymous with shysters and crooks: You are the severed head of a cockroach that keeps twitching in futility. You are the lead in the groundwater that slowly poisons your own children. You are the unseeing eye of a discarded potato too mealy to eat. May all your friends be borrowers and never returners. May you cry for help in a soundproof room and hear only your sad, pathetic echo. May your tongue recoil at the taste of fine food and dissolve from contact with clean water.

To the certified-check scammers who waste people's time with their empty promises of buying goods with their worthless checks: You are the dangling turd on the bum of an incontinent chimp. You are the toxic sludge leaking from industrial waste. You are the bluish-green speck that causes the bread to be thrown away. May you be chained to a tree in the forest and cry wolf until one finds you and eats you. May your boogers always smell like sulfur. May your own mother find you too ugly to behold.

To the virus-writers who wreak havoc with the world economy and destroy people's mementos by shutting down computer systems and erasing random data: You are a snake's belly-button lint. You are the fart of a gypsy moth. You are the evidence left behind by a bear that eats too many wild berries. May you catch every strain of cold known to mankind. May your testicle hairs harden into needles. May your doctors always say "oops".

To the script kiddies who tediously attack people who never did them wrong, and who are too stupid to realize the pointlessness and futility of their random lashing out: You are the child of a fly. You are a thorn in the side of a rock. You are the useless berry growing on the underside of a poison ivy leaf. May no one ever remember your name. May your hair fall out in clumps at social occasions. May you hit puberty and stay there.

To the domain squatters who buy up domain names with the sole intent to charge exhorbitant rates for others to put them to good use: You are the swollen appendix in a terminal cancer patient. You are the dedication page for Stalin's biography. You are the plastic wrap around the free prize in the cereal. May you always be an hour too late to buy a home. May you lose the ability to count past three. May your eyelids freeze and your eyes dry up so you have to turn your whole head to see.

To the phishers who try to steal people's credit-card information: You are the rust bubble on the frame of a homeless man's shopping cart. You are the stain on the sidewalk at a long-forgotten crime scene. You are a twig in a forest fire. May you always itch. May your eyebrows grow backwards. May you always need to "go".

To all of these lice on the head of humanity, and to all others who wish to corrupt or destroy the internet: Fuck you all!