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I JUST got a chain e-mail message from a friend. You know, those messages that try to guilt-trip you into passing them on to prove your love for God or your friends. The ones that clog up your inbox.
I was amused and in total agreement with my friend's e-mail until it closed with a warning to pass it on to five friends, or else my hair would fall out in five days. It also warned that I'd have a problem with my bowel movements. At this point, I got annoyed.
That is why I rarely read e-mail messages that begin with FWD (forward) in the subject line. Most of the time they're not worth the trouble.
I have to admit that in the early days I did have a glimmer of hope that if I did what these unwanted messages asked, I'd get a check in the mail from Microsoft's Bill Gates, or enjoy 100 years of good luck.
So I'd obediently pass on the messages, afraid to break the chain, not sure whether to yell at the friend who sent it to me or thank him for giving me the chance to become rich, blessed with good luck for life, or both.
Now I know better. I think. I'll just ignore these messages.
What continues to puzzle me, though, is: Who comes up with these chain messages? And why do they think it's so important for us to pass them on to everyone on our mailing list? Is it a power thing? Do the writers get a power rush when they see a silly message they concocted – probably after downing a few beers – still circulating in cyberspace?
I suspect they might.
Junk mail is an abuse of our inboxes. The fact that we get so many of them has taken its toll on the impact and power these messages have. The sad stories they tell often no longer have the power to bring tears to readers' eyes. The threat of even a million years of bad luck is sometimes not enough to frighten us into forwarding a mail on, even if it's just a click of the mouse.
Anyway, it's been five days since I got that e-mail from my friend about the danger of not passing on her message. I need to start checking if I'm losing my hair.
21st century |
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