aqua fortis

Sunday, January 22, 2006

The Anti-Chain-Letter

Every once in a while, a friend, perfectly well-meaning, sends me a chain e-mail. You know. The kind that says something wonderful will happen in my life if only I clog up the internet-ether with a specified number of additional pointless e-mails.

I really hate these. I find them to be blatantly manipulative, not to mention superstitious to excess. One I received today, which had a yellow ribbon for soldiers fighting in Iraq, angrily warned me "I BETTER NOT HEAR OF ANYONE BREAKING THIS ONE OR SEE DELETED" (sic). I then was instructed to send it to a rather arbitrary-sounding 13 people in 15 minutes. So many of these e-mails also lay a guilt trip on you for not sending it back to the person who initially e-mailed it to you, as if that would mean you have no friends and are a sad and lonely individual. Frankly, I think that NOT sending it along makes you a BETTER friend. Chain letters always make me wonder who starts these things, and whether they're getting some kind of karma bonus the more poor saps get duped into sending them along. It also inspired me to write the following:

Dear Friend,
Today is your lucky day. Somebody must really hate you because you have just received the mother of all annoying chain letters!!!!! Do not delete this or the universe will implode. If you do not send this along within the next thirty seconds (starting now), you will die a violent death alone and friendless in a cruel, radiation-contaminated world. If you send this letter to 2,067 people before time runs out, something wonderful will happen, like telemarketers leaving you alone for eternity, or never receiving another chain letter. Or not. But maybe. So you better do it. Smile! Have a nice day!


Corey said...

I've always been a fan of this.


TadMack said...

The pseudo-religious ones are even worse -- manipulation with a side of Jesus: "You pass along all kinds of secular jokes, but you won't pass along this piece of sophomoric, badly spelled, soppy, homophobic, jingoistic, thinly veiled splenific rant on my brand of salvation -- well, you know what? God is crying, and hell has reserved a place for you...

Oh, yeah. And smile. God loves you. Sort of.

a. fortis said...

HA! Good ones.