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Friday, January 03, 2003

continued from above
Long ago, when I had no real use for my Bellsouth e-mail account, I used it for online registatrion forms. I had no reason to care if that e-mail box was full of processed, pressed, spiced meat. Now, I have Bellsouth DSL and I need the account. after months of simply deleting the e-mail, Bellsouth introduced (cue timpani beats) Mail Guard. It is supposed to be a spam filter, but as far as I can tell Mail Guard is no more than a button on a Fisher Price toy. It's fun to press and makes you feel like you're accomplishing something when you're really not. After a month of identifying messages like "Increase your Cup by Two Sizes!" as spam, I still get about 60 spam messages a day.

Yesterday I wrote Bellsouth and asked why they offered a service that provided no service. A service tech politley replied that I must be receiving non-standard spam (I'm guessing that means a non-Hormel product). He instructed me send all spam to a particular Bellsouth address to have it blocked. I know I'm being Billy Mumphrey, the idealist, but I'm doing it. I'm opening every piece of spam and giving it the double-whammy. I unsubscribe to the e-mail list (another Fisher Price toy button). and then I forward it to this-is-spam@ bellsouth.net. One message at a time, 60 messages a day, I am winging my bird though it is flying toward the setting sun.

Why? It's starting to feel like therapy. For several minutes a day, I stare blankly at a computer screen and do nothing but work through messages like "We need you to conatct us NOW regarding your 11 million dollar check!" It's like watching infomercials. A mindless task. Therapy for an idiot.

Eventually, though, I know it will be the end of me. Look at ol' Bert. Shortly after the rattler strikes, his poetic epitaph comes to an end:

I stood like a stone as he shrank and uncoiled
And started to crawl beneath the stump,
When I fell limp in the grass.



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Rapid Eye Reality is the personal blog of writer Brad Willis, aka Otis.
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