A recovering editor tackles spam By Tom Brooker News-Chronicle No doubt you spent much of last week glued to the tube watching all the excitement coming out of Boston. Despite all the hooplah and the hype, all I saw were long stretches where nothing earth-shaking happened. And the commentators - they just droned on and on and ON. Then, after one guy finished his stint, you heard those talking heads resort to every clichc in the book: "Well, John, he sure hit a home run with that one," or "This should get these partisan spectators on their feet cheering." You know, I hate it when the Yankees play the Red Sox at Fenway. ... Jackie F. of Greenleaf puts us in first gear: "Isn't there something we can do about all this spam e-mail? I know you wrote about this before, but this time, instead of trying to be cute, can't you give a serious answer for once? "I think Bill Gates was on to something when he suggested that there be a one-cent tax on each e-mail sent out. It wouldn't mean anything to those of us who send a few messages a day, but it would make these spammers think twice before they sent out bazillions." Answer: Billy's idea might just be the ticket, Jackie, but I hope they NEVER change things. First of all, I absolutely adore Spam. I'm talking about that quasi-meat stuff, now, not the e-mail stuff. I think any publicity is good publicity, and it's no coincidence that Spam stock has absolutely gone through the roof ever since it was equated with unbidden messages. For a while there, I was afraid they'd stop making Spam, but no more. Nooosireee. Secondly, for the last few months, the dorks who mastermind our e-mail computers must have gotten bored with playing Dungeons and Dragons, because they actually turned their attention to this high-tech issue. Now, they run all e-mail through a type of "spam scrambler" whereby, even if the unwanted message does sneak its way through their bits-and-bytes snare, it gets garbled in ways that are frequently fraught with mystery. Here are some honestagod examples of e-mail titles that helped kick-start my days this week: - Freak doggie genuflects graciously. - Lulu frequently bottles gelatin. - Ambitious Amber slits cereal. It's like those codes they sent by short-wave radio to the French Underground in World War II movies. It makes you wonder. Maybe these aren't spam-scrambled after all. Maybe millions of people are purposely being told about reverential canines because that means something to someone. Maybe there is a stockbroker out there who, after seeing the gracious genuflection of a spam-bound mutt, immediately sells off General Motors and buy as many trainloads of cashew nuts as he can. Maybe the gelatin that Lulu is putting into bottles actually means one of our spy-type guys is supposed to put a shiv between the ribs of a U.N. ambassador. Maybe all that slit cereal - and you can see it, can't you, thousands of flakes of Snap Krackle & Pop pouring out of razor-torn boxes while that trio of foolish looking elves stand frozen in horror, trapped forever on the outside of a ruptured piece of cardboard - REALLY means someone is supposed to blow up a dam on Lake Titicaca. Oh, yes, Jackie. I spend LOTS of time trying to decipher the true meaning of spam. And not you or Bill Gates is going to deprive me of that pleasure. You got that? YOU GOT THAT?!! (Hold on a minute ... They're giving me a shot ... There ... Whoo-boy... Deep breath ... One breath at a time... Slowly... Slowly... OK. All better.) Chain letters are different, though. They can go. That superstitious drivel has no place in my rational world. ... Dennis G. of Pembine gets us out of here: "Ginger or Mary Ann?" Answer: Mrs. (Lovey) Howell. Once you DO get off the island, you want to have bucks-aplenty to celebrate and how better to do it that by being Lovey's boy toy? I'm Tom Brooker, and I personally approve this column. - Brooker is a recovering editor of The Green Bay News-Chronicle. You can ask him anything through regular mail (P.O. Box 2467, Green Bay, WI 54306) or e-mail, [email protected].