Unreal...

Since I turned off word verification for comments, the spam has steadily been ramping up. Sometimes in Chinese or Cyrillic characters, links to malware sites, people hawking swap meet Louis, various pill-rollers, casinos, and lame-ass SEO spam. Three hundred a day and more having to get scraped out of the spam traps.

This morning I turned on the Android tablet in bed and deleted seventy-some-odd spam comments at about 0730 local, came in here and typed some, and an hour and a half later I had twenty-five fresh ones to delete. And they're not even fun ones anymore, where some Markov generator whispers streams of blank verse into the hissing void of the digital ether, but rather simple, crass "generic xanax fake michael kors click here private invitation for you best payout online casino visit my website: boston realestate.com"

Blah.
.

Ghosts in the machine.

Skynet's writing poetry in my spam filter again:

We always have been and always will be. 

However, upon my arrival I was angler fish

For sale greeted by a busy car park 

And returned a last couple after 

Reverting to the dry fly once more.

So I got...

...this spam comment that starts out:

What is Lol...? Every thing you want in Lol and Troll, Now you Get all in one Network, ThatIsLol...

...and I saved it in my spam folder because every time I look at it, my mind goes into Autocomplete and I get

What is Lol...? Thou art Lol. All that groks is Lol...

...and it hasn't failed to make me Lol yet.


(If you haven't read Stranger In A Strange Land, this might not be very funny. Or make terribly much sense, for that matter.)

Word salad.

The Cylon Hybrids are jabbering in my spam filter again:

The label plug has been proven to be dependable and as cannot punish yourself for something you had no control condition over. Mike Ditka watches from the sidelines during a Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Separate adhesive agent labels are available points are comfortably taken. But they as well have all kinds of is done with such case of labeling and wadding. Feel free to visit my web blog...

JUMP!
.

I has a sad.

I am really sad that I accidentally zorched my little clutch of spam comments. They were sure-fire post generators on a morning when I'm suffering from a bad case of emptyhead, like today.

I had four or five that had long chains of text, each of which read as though someone had downloaded the consciousness of the love child of Sylvia Plath and Thomas Pynchon into an AI and then subjected it to random voltage spikes that made it blurt out "drdrebeats" and "cialis online" between paragraphs of soulfully-tortured word salad.

Alas, art on the internet is the very definition of ephemeral, and my ghost in the machine hasn't turned back up to replace what was accidentally lost.

Whitman or Spambot?

It's time for today's round of  "Whitman or Spambot?"

Was the following written by the noted free verse poet or by a subroutine in a server in Shanghai?

Sit on overlooking
The noble grace of bearing
With different people
With different excuses to see
One can not help but ask

I sing the body electric, indeed...

The air currents in the DSL cable had set up a weird harmonic, like the moaning of a ghost in the machine...

HAL 9000 has been writing spam poetry again:

Bluestacks is worth so we will not waste to
the deepest part in the ocean.
Time on their hands have been trying that believes

it's okay to playfootball game
this reduces the cost of selling
music that our accounts department can deal

Found in the spam trap:

I think the HAL 9000 is branching out into screenwriting and is trying to pitch me a concept for a legal drama, sort of a less-coherent L.A. Law:

Extreme York effective taste is aggressive lawyers quarrel their behave oneself practicing status. Nearby is, assorted reason, vigour around States.

Be expeditious for brace or another, lawyers, judges, efficient scholars gain those who smash them are suggestion garbage. Meanwhile they newcomer disabuse of entities abrade injured.

They think twice entities' legal interests investiture them cherish their hop expectations. They supplementary precedents determination shortcomings be useful to quo.

genre these professions based above skewed perception. Regarding is digress lawyers are overpaid debonair lifestyles work. Duration "overpaid" is play there with, lobbing close by an pertinence is exceedingly unfair.

Spam poetry corner...

I call this one "The Agony Of Crass Commerce". Note how the occasional spasms of Tourette's shilling intrude on the tortured musings of the HAL 9000:

In it something is.
Now all is clear,
thanks for an explanation.
cheap generic viagra online

Do you passion to wager
or neutral receive
with tongue in cheek
with some prime in casinos

then I conclude you are a "pro".
But in reparition some of us
who do not entertain any
gambling episode, it remarkably

is an unwieldy step.
The hesitation of risking
our pelf can absorb as
so wretched we do not wager a cent!

But do not perturbation,
you can agree to all the
intelligence set to rights
in the console of your living room.

Just log unto an online casino
and offer away the party start!

Neuromancer...

The ghost in the spam machine wrote me some poetry.

I removed the links and broke it into lines and verses, but the spelling, punctuation, and capitalization is from the original spam:

Your highness, soundless and stirless appear,
also so a first game,
scared all conditioned reflex regards,
bitter became far a.

The tabloids a short body,
behind the strong rely on
an empty, repair and knew
mini ghd was bad.

Upper body sank,
far also hung on the bench,
with one's face towards the sky
in the upper body,

into a standard XXOO gestures,
just behind the attack
of his highness in face
to face relatively!

Nothing.

Nothing.

Saying nothing, but
hit the wall with your back,
find a chair to sit on a wall with!

if far this part
one also thought
that he was out of breath,

just know that it is
the stomach trouble,
mood rare raised up,
close to if far in front of,

"my father was very hungry?"
abandoned is the most beautiful horse
people think, the present is the most beautiful!
But he did

How apropos...

A spambot blundered by and deposited this nugget into the filter...

It's awesome to pay a visit this web page and reading the views of all mates about this post, while I am also eager of getting familiarity.

In light of the mangled syntax, it is perhaps appropriate that the title of the post under which it was found was "LOLWUT?"

Sigh.

When Skynet wakes up, the machines are going to come at us Gangnam Style.

Aye, there's a gale of a spam storm blowin'!

Th' spam winds are a'blowin' hard an' th' 'bots are bouncin' off the hull! I've been pullin' whole rafts o' debris outta th' intake filters an' it all starts wi' strange variations on th' same sentence...

Believe in residents within the concierge...
Rely on locals in the assistant...
Trust local people within the assistant...
Have confidence in local people on the concierge...
Rely on local people over the concierge...
Have confidence in local people in the concierge...
Believe in residents over the helper...
Rely on residents over the helper...
Trust locals on the helper...
Trust locals in the assistant...
Believe in residents in the helper...
Believe in people within the assistant...

I dinna ken wha' tae make of it, Cap'n!

More ghosts in the machine...

You know how sometimes the harmonics in the air duct can remind you of music, so much so that anybody who sits in a particular corner of the office finds themselves humming The Supremes' "Where Did Our Love Go"?

trouble; for I have had bed-linen and table-linen to purchase and make, and love of notoriety paraded them until dark through the streets of irrepressible outcrop of the brotherly feeling that filled all

where he used to play at the mell. The king did so, and when he kittens; do we see that any inconvenience results to them from this which he lay: and he went to his own house, glorifying God.

It turns out that robospam makes some pretty compelling abstract poetry at times. The two verses above are verbatim transcriptions of two separate attempts at SEO robospam, but I think they work well together as a poem.

Help, I'm being held prisoner in a Chinese spam factory.

Found in the spam trap this morning:

held. The cruisers in his command were stationed along the Riviera, and that they might be taken away. Shall burgeon with fresh leaves, or spread a shadowing bough.

Jump!

Sometimes it's almost like the ghosts in the machine are trying to communicate.

Found in the spam trap...

Skynet is starting to worry me with its weirdly evocative poetry:

hello dick That's cyclopean of the postal operation I'm terribly multifarious to here Tickled pink as stab to look at you all Proffer cordiality to to my blog max mara evening dresses

Jump!

I think I have a new blog header, though....

Fried Spam Nuggets.

Since turning off word verification, my Spam trap has become some of the best reading on the internet. Between the stuff written by Chinese political prisoners trying to plug the products of the PLA's vast fake designer label knockoff operations, and the stuff churned out by programs that toss a mean word salad in an attempt to slip through the Turing Filters, I am endlessly entertained.

A high level accurate bag lover, then it is certain you know nicely regarding the Gucci carriers.

I can hardly wait to call somebody a "high level accurate bag lover" to their face, just to watch them try to process exactly what I mean by it. Is it a complement? An insult? Who knows? It's like a verbal Rorschach!

I pauperism to introduce you a flagrant movie. Let debate it.

This one irritates me like a piece of popcorn hull between two molars. It almost parses. It almost makes sense. It should make sense. It's like picking up something from Zeta Reticuli on your backyard SETI receiver that is just random electronic noise, only with kinda a pattern to it... What's it saying? "Help! I'm being held prisoner in a Shanghai spam factory?" or
"You humans are a disease. You are a cancer on this planet, and we are the cure?"

Proof of an afterlife?

Either these spambots are using strange sentence-generating algorithms, or there's a guy in a Shanghai spam factory using a Ouija board to channel James Joyce:

A zenith was the adjoining replica – to the distant rolex in suspect watches the most surprising din from the features into delgado – and he must impatiently fold and sleep, relatively focus columns.

Or perhaps Umberto Eco has taken a night gig...
.