So, this morning brought me spam in the comments of a post that's nearly two years old. The deep and profound annoyance this causes has been ameliorated by the fact that the spam is, in a weird way, nearly poetry. Let me give you some excerpts:

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This is a pathological example of the disease I was talking about in my Storytellers Unplugged post. Like playing six-degrees-of-separation, not from Kevin Bacon, but from the correct word. It's like the conversations you have in dreams. Or the English spoken by defective pod people. I find it bizarrely beautiful.

Also irritating as all get-out, mind you. But I'll take the inadvertent benefit.