As annoying as spam are, I have always been somewhat intrigued at the ingenuity and great lengths that spammers will go to in order to bypass the barracade of spam filters we are constantly erecting and reinforcing. At home I rarely see any spam (Google’s filters are that good), but a lot slips through the cracks at the office. Most of them are short one or two liners with intentionally misspelled words in the subject line like ‘Hydr0_c0done’ and ‘Phe3nterMine.’ These go immediately into the trash bin. However, I sometimes take the time to read what I think are the best spam–those which contain sentence fragments that almost (but not quite) tell a story.

Taking a cue from a friend who has begun a series on his blog called Spam of the Day, in which he “embrace[s] Spam as a cultural phenominam,” I am starting a series here on Transformatum called Rearranged Spam. The game is to take all of the words from the spam email and rearrange them into something a little more literate. I have not added or subtracted any words, nor have I changed their tenses or persons. I have only taken liberties with punctuation. This first is about the dangers of alcohol and boating.

Original Spam (sans Rx image)

>>the two canoes, which was the task that the whole party was now
>>and who was striving to communicate with him, would be apt to
>>indulging in a liquor so much more palatable than that he was
>he was compelled to keep himself. The odor of the whiskey was so
>Margery appeared no more. Assured now of the accuracy of his
>There was tolerably firm ground on it, but it lay in an irregular
background to admit of his being seen. But the fire still blazed in
the night. As it was probable that the sentinel would take his
collected in a body on the brow of the hill, where the chief was
is here can be removed into the thicket that is luckily so near; and
blood, and the usual temporary paralysis had been the consequence.
whiskey, and let them long for it without gettin’ any, as a

Rearranged Spam

Assured of the accuracy of where he was, that is, of the whole of his background, the chief was now compelled to keep himself indulging in his liquor and so the usual and temporary paralysis had been the consequence. Can it be? It was. But luckily Margery was more apt than that. He was striving to communicate with him, but the sentinel lay on firm ground in an irregular body on the brow of the hill and, being seen, would no more admit it. The odor here was a gettin’ near tolerably palatable, as it was probable that there was so much whiskey collected in the blood, that the two appeared as a fire which still blazed in the night. So for any who would long to party without the whiskey, it was now his task to let them be removed and take the canoes into the thicket.

On a more serious note, if you want to become a better writer (or learn how to write in general) then my best advice is to read a lot of books. (HT: Ben)

A video homage to my favorite writing guide / by Maira Kalman

I thought you might enjoy this quote passed on by a friend of a friend. I especially like the last line: “If he does not go, let two stout monks, in the name of God, explain the matter to him.” It gives the word “explain” a whole new feel, does it not?

If any pilgrim monk come from distant parts with wish as a guest to dwell in our monastery and will be content with the customs which he finds in this place, and do not perchance by his lavishness disturb the monastery, but is simply content with what he finds; he shall be received for as long a time as he wishes. If indeed he find fault with anything or expose it reasonably and with humility and charity, the Abbot shall discuss it prudently, lest perchance God has sent him for this very purpose. But if he has been found gossipy or divisive in the time of his sojourn as the guest, not only ought he not be joined in the body of the monastery, but also it shall be said to him honestly that he must depart. If he does not go, let two stout monks, in the name of God, explain the matter to him.

— Rule of St. Benedict, Benedictine Monastery, 6th Century

In my junior year high school English class (senior year English for the non-AP students) we did very little except read and memorize poetry. Our final exam was essentially a recollection of all the quotes we had highlighted. I can still recite the first stanza of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s Kubla Khan, or William Wordsworth’s I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. Most of the others I have forgotten, but there are a couple in particular that have stuck with me.

A little Learning is a dang’rous Thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian Spring:

-and-

Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound,
Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.

— Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism, 1711

The first quote reminds me of the importance for continuous learning, while the second seems to be a warning against being fooled by glamour and ostentation. What sorts of thoughts and images do they conjure up for you?