The Spam Review
Does anyone else read their spam? I fully trust WordPress to save me from the horrors of the spam kingdom, but recently I took a renewed interest in the junk file. Something about my post, “Revealing” caught the attention of the spam-spiders. I have no idea why a post on art restoration (oops, maybe that’ll do it again) would garner so much spam. The overwhelming majority of the spam came from one vendor. I’d mention it by name, but then I’d just be giving it the very name-recognition attention it was seeking in the first place. I’m a firm believer in not rewarding bad behavior. I’m dying of curiosity as to what sly and secret algorithm garnered that flurry of electronic litter. So now I read the spam. I’m looking for some connection between the blog I write and the junk it attracts.
Perhaps the art restoration (there I go again) blog contained words leading one to believe that I was a high-end shopper and would be interested (oh-oh, here we go) in high-end leather goods or handbags or coats or men’s accessories. In truth, I’m not much of a consumer. My first-choice venue for shopping is Craigslist. Indeed, I confess, I am a Craigslist addict. In particular, I love to peruse the construction materials section. I know, it’s weird. I find it reassuring that used/recycled or mis-ordered materials are available, in case I ever need to (literally) rebuild my life. I once remodeled a kitchen (cabinets, appliances, fixtures and flooring) almost entirely from craigslist. That’s when the addiction started. Some people watch television, when I’m stressed, I scan the listings for unwanted construction materials. My sister suggested a particular microwave and I nodded and said I’d wait to see if one got listed. I’d completely forgotten that most people shop in stores. I saved a bundle on that kitchen. Mostly though, I avoided stores. That poor spammer is really barking up the wrong tree.
In my last post, I mentioned that a particular phrase was “ringing in my ears.” It was just a phrase, not a subject of discussion. My spam box filled with remedies for tinnitus. Actually I do have tinnitus, so it took me a minute to trace back to what I’d said that would lead to that advertising pitch. For just a second, I wondered what they knew about me. I don’t mean to be internet paranoid, but in fact, they are listening. My last book included a lot of Catholic references, and I did a good bit of research online. Now, I’m plagued with pop-up ads for Christian Singles. (Oh no! now what will the spammers do with me?) It’s a funny bit of cat and mouse, this. But I have the ultimate power–I press delete.