Long ago (very long ago) I confessed that I love spam.
There was, in all honestly, something attractive about it. It was, perhaps, one
of the aspects of e-mail that generated an atmosphere of novelty about the medium.
I had no problem approaching the spam that arrived in my inbox with a sense of
detachment. Rather than being upset with it, I perhaps even felt a certain excitement.
I wondered what strange items would arrive in my
inbox today. But there's a certain point (a point not only reached, but also passed,
long ago) at which we realize that we've already seen it all, a point at which
quality wanes and we're left only with quantity - a vast quantity of what we ultimately
have to admit is simply junk.
Go to: We can learn to love it too, or
Go to: Fort PC.