Spam Attack

I'm pretty sure the grand plan is to annoy us into submission.

Just slam our email account enough times with promises of "Immediate Debt Relief, Discount Drugs, LowerMyBills", even "girls, girls, girls, " and we'll eventually throw up our hands in frustration -- too weak to press the delete button yet one more time?

Once upon a time it was telemarketers that haunted our lives at the most inconvenient of hours -- but then blissful relief -- that genius device known as "Caller ID" arrived on the scene and we gained some necessary control over the invasive onslaught against the yearned for peace, solitude, and privacy of hearth and home.

Only now, something far worse - treacherously tucked between emails from Mom and friendly messages from Face Book - SPAM! Creepy, annoying, never invited, SPAM. The eternally unwanted junk mail of the internet.  Stealing into online mailboxes under cover of night, creeping in alongside favorite newsletters and sparkly new blog postings, newsy updates from friends - robbing the anticipated thrill of scanning the morning mail simply by being there.

Something akin to a home invasion, spam feels nothing less then a direct invasion into my personal space. Unwanted, unappreciated, and threatening. Finding promises of Cheap Viagra,  Revolutionary Diet pills made with magical ingredients harvested from the rain forest, or the ideal mate at Match.com (28 yrs and counting - I've got it covered), do not tempt as much as annoy.

If you have a product to sell, why not try marketing your magic beans honestly and fairly? Rather then running up and slamming your intended victim over the head like a thug wearing a stocking cap, walk up and introduce yourself. It's a whole lot nicer and surely a good deal more effective.

Alright then, your turn to fess-up -- have you ever been intrigued enough to crack open any of your spam-o-grams? Did you actually purchase or investigate whatever it was you found there?