I've just won a million dollars.
With the click of a button I will be able to transfer the amount into my bank account anywhere in the world. I indulge myself a bit, fantasising how I would like to spend it. An extremely cliched trip around the globe? Solitaires? A dream car?
I click the necessary button and sit back with a smile. And, within seconds, the mail that promised to make me a millionaire, for the third time this week, has been deleted. Incidentally, I also declined the latest laptop, a luxury car, and a fully-furnished condo, each one generously bestowed on me, all via Junk Mail.
When I discovered E-mail, I was ecstatic. I could connect with Shelly in Shimla, and ignore messages from Dumpty in New Delhi. I could trade gossip with Lovely in London and exchange pictures with Sweety in the US, more frequently than we ever did. And, all this, with the click of a button. Ah, the wonders of modern technology! As far as I was concerned, E-mail was the best thing invented after chocolate, wedge-heels, and waterproof mascara. But, like every film has a villain Junk Mail came along, followed by its terrible-twin, Spam Mail.
Junk Mail consists of advertisements. Its primary intent is keyed to lure the consumer towards the product. But, because it is so shoddily done, the only purpose it most likely serves is jamming mailboxes.
Here's more. Because sending nearly identical messages to numerous recipients is a random electronic procedure, women are offered, ahem, Organ-Enlargements ["Become popular among women!"] and Hair-Transplants ["Look younger in 5 days!"]. Likewise, men gleefully and meticulously go through "Victoria's Secret Catalogues," and "Summers' Latest Swimwear."
If transplants or lingerie aren't your scene, then Junk Mail helpfully offers to grant you perfect vision with Laser surgery, so you can see better the dates they offer to find ["Are you lonely?" "Find sizzling singles in your area, NOW!"]. No amount of blocking out the errant mails seems to help, because newer ones keep popping up in your mailbox.
Now, if jamming mailboxes with an excessive number of unsolicited E-mails wasn't bad enough, you have people forwarding chain-mail letters to you that you just have to forward to the obligatory number of people, or else suffer awful consequences like "friendship breaking," or "your wishes not coming true" [as if!], or "losing your job, house, and all your hair."
If all these scenarios didn't sound sufficiently menacing, be warned that the world could come crashing down, because you didn't care to forward the chain-mail-in-question according to the stated procedure and the required number of people.
And, you can't dismiss these predictions of doom as mere fallacies.People write in with gory descriptions of the appalling consequences they suffered just because they dared to "break the chain," "I deleted the mail after I read it, and by afternoon I had lost my job, by evening my car and, by the next day, my wife."
However, I guiltily confess to fast converting into a Junk Mail addict, who gleefully scans every unnecessary mail, and then writes about it.
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