You've got Spam Poetry!

Outlook 2003 notified me today that "The universe was a figment of it's own imagination."

(SpamBayes does a great job of removing spam, but the little outlook pop-up toast thingy still displays it)

"That looks weird", I thought, as the blue notifier faded away.

But when I got to my inbox, there was nothing more than an ad for "ch3ap pharm3cut1cal's". Probing a little further, I found the following text at white 2 pt font on a white background. It looks to me like it's been randomly cropped and computer re-assembled from "The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy" trilogy. I thought it was kind of pretty.

So I cleaned it up and added some punctuation and link words. Here's today's Spam Poem:


Street Theatre Grant, and went away.


Universe was only a figment of its own imagination we were eventually given.
That is, he would insult everybody in it.
His life --- simply because some pedantic adjudicating official noticed Improbability Factors.

Itself is simply a revolutionary new way,
people who leave when they see who usefully take that day,

Lux-O-Valves and Refracto-Nullifiers and Spectrum-Bypass-O-Matics,
he bills within the confines of the "Ah. And had anyone else noticed it?" series.

The men are leaving the pitch in the company of a police officer,
In other words, an unidentifiable little metal object with...

Imagine, and a lot of things.
One, quiet private lives in the marshes of Squornshellous Zeta.
Many of them past the mountain, round it, even over it,
and simply never have noticed, or get caught, slaughtered, dried out,

Not trip over, or break his nose on anything, and yet-
"(b) suspicious-looking ones were never tested under laboratory conditions."

The precise details are not important because - no!
Whole days would go on like, Simple...
Somebody Else's Problem field.

The technology involved in making anything invisible!
(Then people would have walked. )

It is so at about 2:55 when you breathe.




I think there's something in that for all of us...