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Some people think spam is a new form of enlightenment (via Techdirt). On the other hand it could be art, couldn't it? Just look at this text I found in my spam folder this morning:
There was a slight severity in her tone, as if to reprove the mix
there, and in the shadow cast by the wall, Major Mallard, the
foremost of which was now a bare quarter of a mile away. His gla
Blood's thoughts were upon this and other things as he lounged
bay of Petit Goave. In that same mood he greeted M. le Baron de
restrained her, and she sank down again, moaning.
furiously what he should say to Captain Blood upon the morrow.
instincts to avoid an engagement.
in his glance, life might have its uses, after all, and even the
Good God! cried Lord Jeffreys, his voice suddenly swelling, his
and splashing of oars, as they attempted to pull in every directi
you in a moment when we've searched your house. And, by God, if
forecastle and the brass guns gleaming on her prow. The gunners
his teeth.
May be some kind of surrealism? Or dadism? But then again it might be just spam.
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