It seems that the more things change the more they stay the same: God is still not quite sufficient on his own after all these years …

With God’s help and the Internet, “ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE TO THOSE WHO BELIEVE!”

… from a grassroots email push to raise money to get Mike Huckabee elected — then the world will be saved.

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.