This morning, as I sat down with my coffee and opened up my email at work, I noticed the usual torrent of spam and junk mail that greets me on a Monday morning. Usually, I promptly delete these. However, occasionally an email will catch my attention–random sentences with no relation whatsoever strewn together to create an oddly pseudo-sensical account so strange and disjunct I could never have written anything like it. This morning I had just one of these, and I had to copy it down. You will notice there are bits of French and Latin interspersed. Ironically, I think the first Latin sentence is roughly translated as a line from the Psalms that we say in Vepsers every week: “I will not fear even thousands of people that are ranged on every side of me.” Something like that.
To take a page right out of a blogging friend’s book, I am going to include the full text of the junk mail below. It’s not very long. See if you can make some kind of sense out of it. Below the junk mail passage, I have devised my own version, a vignette inspired by the random technobabble. Who knows? Perhaps this will turn into somewhat of a running tale, each selected installment of junk mail comprising a new chapter in a randomly unfolding adventure.
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Egwene had noticed the skull when she came in, with its curled horns and snout, and vaguely wondered what sort of ram had so big a head.Tu dois cultiver l’arbre Cet arbre te rendre riche.Non timebo milUa populi circumdantis me. Delux Visual Basic to Delphi ” DEMO” to ” FULL”.What have you against me now. Hopefully they’ll also produce client side fixes.Message passing involves the transfer of data from one process (send) to another process (receive). For whatever reason, the explosive system in WTC 7 had failed and the building stubbornly remained intact.So I went back. Idque apud imperitos humanitas vocabatur, quum pars servitutis esset.Security evaluations and auditing. BindView EMS is a powerful network management and security tool.Idoya, a stout imposing woman, walked past the window, shielding herself from the dust and holding down her skirt. This is the rate at which SuperVoice will send faxes.Now I eat his salt bread. You know perfectly well what will happen and where you will go if the police find out about things.All files of a combine are needed for extraction. Without stopping to think of what she intended to do, she ran downstairs through the dark house and out into the rain.Illuminati is still on-line. Is there something special I need to do so that the edit control behaves in a similar manner.So I went and got the bag of meal and my old saw out of the canoe, and fetched them to the house. The name of a file containing an assembly that defines the requested type.Bligh was at the door. This makes it possible to adjust the size of the blocks by changing and recompiling a single routine that defines them, and then relinking.
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Now the fun part. I’m going to…uh…embellish the above text to make it more story-like. Wow, I really have way too much time on my hands. Without further ado, I give you…”Egwene: Part I”
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Egwene had noticed the skull when she came in, with its curled horns and snout, and vaguely wondered what sort of ram had so big a head. A cold drawling voice came from the corner. “What have you against me now?”
Egwene spun around, her back to the door. Storm clouds were gathering outside, there was a distant thunder and the wind caused the branches of the yew tree outside to lightly rap against the window.
Michael slowly walked out of the shadows. A sudden flash of lightning brought his face into view. Egwene screamed. Instead of the calm, pale face she knew so well, a monster stared back at her. His high cheek bones had vanished, and his nose seemed to have caved in. His mouth was oddly crooked and instead of eyes there were two crimson hollows streaming blood. The corners of his lopsided mouth twisted into an ironic smile.
“For whatever reason, the explosive system in WTC 7 had failed and the building stubbornly remained intact…so I went back.”
He was slowly approaching as he spoke.
“Johnson was there you know.” Michael laughed a high, cold laugh. “Well, I don’t think he fancied finding me there.”
Egwene began to panic, slowly backing toward the door. What had he done to Johnson?
Michael laughed even louder. He was getting closer. He suddenly stopped and said, “Now I eat his salt bread.” The wicked grin spread wider on his face. What did that mean?
Egwene muttered something in her head. Fragments of a prayer she had heard as a child. Non timebo milua populi…populi circumdantis me.
Michael sidled casually around the table between them.
“You know perfectly well what will happen and where you will go if the police find out about things.” He was very close now. She could feel his breath on her face. “You can’t run forever, Egwene. You’re not–” He was interrupted by a loud pounding outside.
Michael ran to the window and looked down. The wind had picked up fiercely, leaves and debris were flying in circles. Idoya the housemaid, a stout imposing woman, had just walked past the window, shielding herself from the dust and holding down her skirt. Michael was momentarily distracted. Without stopping to think of what she intended to do, she ran downstairs through the dark house and out into the rain. The darkness was so thick that it blinded her momentarily, the wind was howling in her ears. Suddenly a familiar croaking voice came from behind her.
“E? Is that you?” She spun around, her heart skipping a beat. Bligh was at the door looking very confused. Behind him, the feeble light of the kitchen dimly outlined his frame.
“What’s wrong, E?”
She ran to the threshold and tugged on his arms, shreiking. “He’s here! He’s inside! Run!”
Bligh seemed not to understand. “What? Who? E…where…?” There was a sickening dull thud. Egwene looked down in horror to see a smooth, shining metal poking out from somewhere in the region of his heart. Bligh fell to his knees, his eyes glazing. Blood was oozing from the wound. “E…what…?” he croaked.
“No!”
As Bligh sunk to the ground, clinging weakly to her legs, she looked up to see Michael no more than ten paces away, leering madly. A loud clap of thunder shook the ground and the lightning flashed horribly. Bligh was mumbling softly at her feet.
“No…please. Michael…I beg you….” Outside, the storm bellowed and raged more fiercely than ever.
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To be continued…?
