Spam Folder Gold

Undesirable aspects of email tend to come and go as the very utility of the email provider changes… we now have a fully capable modicum of chat, a social networking avenue, the ability to edit ‘social bookmarks’, fastidiously targeted ads, efficient translation capability, the ability to archive limitless amounts of attachments… all of these assist in better occupying our time spent in email. Although my aunt still occasionally forwards me chain letters about how fifty people praying simultaneously will save the life of a Nigerian monarch that will split a million dollars among the devout, one thing that still remains, and may always remain a part of email, is the presence of spam. That hit or miss folder full of weekly mailings, indecipherable ramblings in comments on nearly defunct myspace accounts, and ridiculous ploys for pyramid schemes still seems to accumulate fodder, 15 years after the first groan-worthy garbage hit inboxes. But not all are total wastes of time… what follows are a few of the more interesting ‘messages’ that have come through Brasky’s email recently.

Picture on the left of man with inadequate dick one small example

To: Brasky
From: pacified@vanseggelen.nl
Subject: madri lene encep halom a carna tions brown ing schil ling
Text:

hydro unsna pped resid ues direc t daimo ns tourn eying grave
lled crotc hetin g encep halom a budde d silen ts metho xide
hanga r repri mande d perpe trato r dives groti us rakis hness
suffr utico se benig nly whoop la fresh enzed homeg rown kenda l
conde nsibl e remed iable repri mande d raceh orse salti er incli
p playa bilit y stati cs reade rs dipht heria n

lol wut? This string of random dismantled words serves merely to deliver a captcha proof image instructing the receiver on how to purchase Canadian Boner Pills. I like the ‘Benignly whoopla, fresh’ part. If we had more time on our hands, linking this all into a cogent story would be a fun creative writing experiment.

To: Brasky
From: latecomer@hv-aristos.nl
Subject: owny, his hair
Text:

At, I say again, he undertook something above his strength.” “I don’t
understand you. But go on.” “Along with the gentleman, I, with other
witnesses, was taken to the Tombs. There was an examination, and, to
appear at the trial, the gentleman and witnesses all gave bail–I mean
all but me.” “And why didn’t you?” “Couldn’t get it.” “Steady,
hard-working cooper like you; what was the reason you couldn’t get
bail?” “Steady, hard-working cooper hadn’t no friends. Well, souse I
went into a wet cell, like a canal-boat splashing into the lock; locked
up in pickle, d’ye see? against the time of the trial.” “But what had
you done?” “Why, I hadn’t got any friends, I tell ye. A worse crime than
murder, as ye’ll see afore long.”

Clearly you will recognize this as an important passage from Herman Melville’s lesser known work ‘The Confidence Man-His Masquerade’. But what was it doing in my email? It didn’t even contain an ad for anything pertaining to penises.

To: Brasky
From: gradeless@essanelle.de
Subject: epimorphism
Text:
What’s up?
Halfpast ten. For the rest of the day, one of 1831. Introductory
epistle. From the author of and made things easy for the
bronzed and handsome stage of our journey. An unfortunate
quarrel between old blue wrapper and the yarn slippers and
is my friend mis’ williams in this afternoon and all. That
inestimable domestic is so much one with me, did she not
hand me the plans then and island1,000 m. In length, with
most wonderful england’s outlines: only a white pavement
pierced grief, if you will let me. Ah! I know who y’ are
him, that you send for your father’s own physician. Well
that they could not last much longer. My sleep i looked
down upon the doll beside me with have a great affection
for my father.

This is my favorite of all the ramblers. “An unfortunate quarrel between old blue wrapper and the yarn slippers” is amazing. It almost feels like I’m listening to a senile man from the early 1900s.

To: Brasky
From: armorer@oniksltd.com
Subject: Your accountt was blocked!
Text:
The devil knows best what he said, but at least them, with
his eye firmly fixed on his executioners, to walk whither
she did not list for any man. Live in luxury and without
working to the end you be willing to take me untiluntil
i can? I’mGIVE WOMAN THE FIRST THING SHE EXPECTS FROM YOU –
THE UNFORGETABLE PLEAASURE
More information HERE

For a second there I thought my accountt was blocked! This one ALMOST makes sense.

To: Brasky
From: “cannabis cobain”
Subject: nicholson i need i conditions orb
Text:

me Paul and you best actor shinning
mexico city 500 hours of audio adventures drugs sex rock and roll
poems me atheist me met Bjork me i want to met for movie

Sounds good, dude!

You Laugh, You Lose!

It’s time for a game! If you’ve ever been on the internet before, you already know the rules to You Laugh, You Lose, so stop reading and get looking. For the rest of you, congratulations on emerging from that two-decade coma, and here are the rules of the game: Look through the following 15 pictures, and remember: You laugh, you lose! That’s it. Why are you still reading this?



WIN

Gorillaz versus Mark Gormley

‘Plastic Beach’, the newest album from pop supergroup Gorillaz, is a confounding listen. Much like its title suggests, from a distance, this album appears to be everything that fans have been waiting for and more. With an impressive cast of co-stars, it reads to be a ground-breaking blast… on paper. But when one examines closely, it turns out that the sand and waves are merely hollow representations of how amazing the record could have been. As the equally plastic NOW Magazine puts it: “It has hooks, but none as immediate as past Gorillaz hits.”

It shows characteristic signs of dance-worthiness, but at other (unfortunately more frequent) times, it devolves into utter tedium. Too many tracks start out at the pace that they will ultimately maintain, and nearly every song seems to pass through some stage where the novelty edges dangerously near grating or downright annoying. Although a progressive group in some senses of the word, most of the songs begin with great promise only to dwindle into repetitious lushness, never breaking out of that 4/4 ‘tick tick tick tick’ hi-hat and 1-2 bass snare humdrum. The reviews are puzzlingly positive, with only the Los Angeles Times breaking the mold and slamming it handily: “Too many of these 16 hazy, half-crazy tracks sound like undercooked studio goofs recorded in the wee hours by Albarn and his impressive circle of celebrity pals.” Perhaps the writers in LA were not so awestruck by the celebrity guests. They and Brasky both urge you to keep in mind: although perfectly good corn sometimes turns up in turds, it is inadvisable to consume.

Other reviews paint a picture of an unforgettable album worth listening to again and again: “[Plastic Beach is] not just one of the best records of 2010, but a release to stand alongside the greatest Albarn’s ever been involved with and a new benchmark for collaborative music as a whole.” says the BBC. While it may be a shot in the arm for pop music, overall it seems like just another album, the way that many bands’ fourth and fifth records happen to turn out (read: Zeitgeist by Smashing Pumpkins, No. 4 by Stone Temple Pilots, etc). The main gripe that Brasky has with this album is that it simply never finds that explosive passion from previous recordings. Although the snark and intrigue remain, the energy and soul seem to have been drained from the disc, replaced by something ‘plastic’, something that the band seems to assume that we will automatically get excited about simply because it exists under the ‘Gorillaz’ moniker.

What has happened here is a symptom of what is wrong with the music industry today. You can give dozens of talented artists all the money in the world to create an amazing album, but all the thousands of gadgets and guest lists and marketing and music videos featuring Bruce Willis can’t immediately produce something honestly innovative the way that the tedium and struggle of real life is able to. What have Damon Albarn and Snoop Dogg got to rap about these days? Having to wait five minutes for the maitre’d to snag a second bottle of Rothschild from the wine cellar? After a few tracks, the album becomes very similar to a “2 Hot Girls in the Shower” youtube video that you’ve been watching, waiting for the tits, and in the end that black screen comes up and you realize that even though it was called “2 Hot Girls in the Shower”, it’s just two women in their thirties standing in the shower talking about inane crap.

But if the Gorillaz new album is something that is ‘so good it’s bad’, so to speak, here is something that is ‘so bad it’s good’. Singer-songwriter Mark Gormley is everything that is RIGHT with the music industry these days.

Mark Gormley is completely without pretense, ego, and restraint. Bill Brasky made Mark a guitar from Velociraptor skulls and dark matter to celebrate Mark’s being elected the president of the Moon. Mark Gormley puts all the money in ATMs. Mark Gormley invented three ring binders. He also does Chuck Norris’ taxes.