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Sad little spammer

A spam popped up in brightandbroke -- it was some college kid with a spam-journal created to pimp a bunch of pyramid schemes. I stomped on it heavily, hitting LJ, the pyramid scheme site (with my sacrificial spamtrap e-mail address), and the little punk's college abuse department. He'd used his college webspace to upload his "See, I got a free iPod" photo, you see...

Out of curiosity, I peeked at the guy's webpages. He and his little friends were trying so very hard to look cool. Mini-car-punks with too much flashy jewelry and premature hearing loss from way the fuck too loud music, it looked like. If they hadn't been annoying me with spam, it could have been cute, just because I remember trying to present "Look, I'm so awesome, and these are my awesome friends," to the world, when all of it was mostly just friends and our silly in-jokes. These guys are more mainstream, but still... so young.

And. Spammers. *crushes them like bugs*
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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