Attention To Details Sometimes Heps

Yes, there is a reason for the appearance of the Beatles in this scam.

Let's see if you can pick up on why from the opening scammer salvo:

I am diplomat John Paul,

This is to inform you about my successful arrival in John F.Kennedy
International Airport New York City with your cash consignment worth $5.5
million united state dollars Inheritance Compensation fund from ECO WAS
together with the United States,Which I have been instructed by the United
Nations (UN) and the World Bank to be delivered to you.

you are advised to contact me immediately as I can not afford to spend more
time here due to other delivery I have to take care of in Australia. I want you
to know that you  have 72 hours to get back to me.However, before the delivery
of the consignment to you,We need you to reconfirm your currently delivery
information so that the funds will not be delivered to the wrong person.

1. Full name:
2. Country/city:
3. Residential address:
4. Direct telephone numbers:
5. Valid identification:

You can also reach me at +1(912)584-2953)  leave text to me if am enable to
answer.

After verification of the information with what I have on file, I shall contact
you so that we can make  arrangements on the exact time I will be bringing your
Consignment to your residential address.Send the requested information so that
we can proceed and deliver the Consignment to you immediately.

Regards
Diplomat John Paul.  

 

 

After a bit of a *TOING* by my character, the response:

 

 

Ringo and George will be along shortly.  

 

 

Ol' JP isn't catching the drift h'yar:

 

 

I am the diplomat agent responsible for the delivery of your Consignment Box. I received your mail while I have been in this airport for couple of days. It’s mandatory that the delivery of your Box will take place immediately because it has given me a lot of stress while I was told that it will take me only 2 days.

The Airport Authority demanded for all the legal back up papers to

prove to them that the fund is no way related with drug nor fraud

money, I have presented the papers I handed to them and they are very

much pleased with the papers I presented but the only thing that is

still keeping me here is the airport Anti-drug/terrorist clearance

certificate which is not placed on the package, one of the Airport

Authority has advise that we get the delivery tag so that I can exit

the airport immediately and make my delivery successful.

I try to reason with them and they stated the delivery tag will cost $150 Dollars only to get the documents placed on the packages as that documents will enable me.

Thank you for your response. You are expected to pay only $150 for re-confirmation

of your file and you are instructed to purchase HERE IS THE INFORMATION YOU WILL USE TO SEND THE  FEE TODAY USING  MONEY GRAM OR Walmart To Walmart

make it separate according to the United States Government  

 

 

Meantime, MY character gets it:  he wants $150 USD.  The schtick continues:

 

 

Are you John or Paul?  I know you're not Ringo or George.

It's important which one you are.  Answer carefully.  

 

 

Ol' JP still isn't grasping it:

 

 

I am Mr John Paul I'm here now to deliver your consignment box to you immediately ok only thing holding your consignment box in this airport right now is 1 $50 only you have to send it so that I will settle this matter immediately and deliver your consignment box urgently  

 

 

So the schtick continues:

 

 

Thank you for your offer.  But first you must answer up:  are you John or are you Paul?  We already know that you're not Ringo or George.  

 

 

Some kind of light bulb is beginning to try to burn on the other end:

 

 

I am not understand you.  I told you who I am and you must send $150 USD as instructed to conclude this business.  My time is not for delay.  

 

 

You simply MUST answer the question or we are at an impasse.  We have already established that you're not Ringo or George.  So...are you John or are you Paul?  Everything hinges on your answer...absolutely EVERYTHING.  

 

After a wee bit of coaxing, the scammer 'choses':

 

 

I am John.  Can we now proceed with your payment so I can deliver?  

 

 

How I love a scammer that chooses...poorly:

 

 

*BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZER*

 

John is dead.  You have chosen...poorly.  *WHOOOP..WHOOOP..WHOOOP*

*FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL*

*ERROR...ERROR...MUST..ANALYZE..ERROR..*

*WHA-WHA-WHA-WHAAAA*

 

No $150 for YOU.

Thanks for playing.

 

 

Diplomat John Paul is not amused:

 

 

IDIOT  

 

 

Hey Bunky, I'm not the one that picked the dead guy to be.  You did that.  *WHA-WHA-WHA-WHAAAAA*  No $150 for YOU.  Thanks for playing.

 

 

Funny...he no wanna play no mores. 

 

 

 

 

Is There Any Help In This Thread?

Within a scant few emails, one scammer was seeking to know if my character was going to help her or not.

Them of you what knows me -- and by association, my characters -- nothing further need be said.

But that'd be no fun.

Let's start with her opening email:


Please forgive this interrupt, but I need to discuss importance with you.  Please respond.  


Her name was Sandra Larry.  Or his name was Larry Sandra.  I wasn't sure so I had my character inquire:

Is you Sandra Larry or Larry Sandra? 


I knowd I had a bright bulb on the other end with this:

Thanks for your mail.How are you doing this beautiful day ! I hope all is well with you .Friendship can not be measured in terms of material value, nor can it be explained through our use of language, it is a thing that is felt deep within the heart, where no words can ever come close to the truth.

I want to assure you that Color, Race, Religion, or Nationality makes no difference to me . What i see in people are their Personality and Character .kindly go to the below web page; ( BBC NEWS | Africa | Air crash kills Sudanese minister) (http://www.nytimes.com/2008/ 05/02/world/africa/02iht- 02sudan.12531389.html?_r=1) Although we have not known each other before,But after going through your profile,I decided to contact you, also from the inspirations that i had from God, i believed that you will not fail me, and that through you, i will get the assistance needed.

However, My name is Miss Sandra Larry.,I am Single, 26years old, was born in South  Sudan with no kid and never married. 5ft 8inches Tall, 55kg weight,black hair and brown eyes, fair in complexion daughter to late Mr Justin Yak (former Minister for SPLA Affairs and Special Adviser to President Larry Kiir of South Sudan for Decentralization.) After the burial of my father, my uncle conspired and sold my father's properties to one Chinese Expatriate and live nothing for me. One faithful morning, I opened my father's briefcase and found out the documents which he have deposited huge amount of money in one bank with my name as the next of kin and also as writing in my late fathers PERSONAL WILL SAID THAT I AM THE NEXT OF KIN OF THE  MONEY . I escaped to Senegal to seek asylum,for my security, because i am not save with my uncle.

I have made contact with the bank where the money is deposited,in their responds, they told me that my father's instruction to the bank was the money to be released to me only when I am married or present a trustee who will help me and invest the money overseas, coupled with the refugee law of Senegal that prevented a refugee from handling anything money.So I am in search of ; an honest and reliable person who will help me and stand as my trustee/partner,so that I will present him to the Bank for transfer of the money to his bank account overseas.

Though you may wonder why I am so soon revealing myself to you without knowing you, well, I will say that my mind convinced me that you are the true person to help me. More so,I would like to disclose much to you if you can help me to relocate to your country because my uncle have threaten to assassinate me. The amount is $7. 2 Million.You will also help me to place the money in a more profitable business venture in your Country. However, you will help by recommending a nice University in your country so that I can complete my studies.

Here is the number of the rev. father in charge of our refugee camp, when you call tell him that you want to speak with me (+221707142475)  and his name is Rev James Matthew.As soon as I receive your interest in helping me. Meanwhile, As soon as I receive your positive response showing your interest, I will put things into action immediately and will educate you more on the way you will assist me receive the money. In the light of the above, I shall appreciate an urgent response indicating your ability and willingness to handle this transaction sincerely. I am staying at the female hostel here in the refugee camp. Please, keep this transaction to your self only. Do not disclose it to any one due to it nature till the fund (Money) gets to you in your country which I will also come over once the fund is been successfully transferred.I really appreciate your concern, waiting for your urgent response so that we can  proceed. Please send me your full

contact information so that i can use it to write a letter of nomination to the bank so that when you contact the bank, they will know of a truth that you are coming on my behalf.

1.Your full names and country name...

2.Your phone and fax number..............

3.Your working place and position in the office..........

Note: I wanted to escape to the Europe but unfortunately lost my international passport and other valuable traveling documents when I was absconding from my country on public transport. I promise you sincerity and honesty over this our transaction and relationship and will always love you forever. I expect your honest and earliest reply.

Best Regards

Yours Miss Sandra   


I could have put a lot of effort into screwing with this, but truth be told, I was every bit as bored as y'all by the time I was a paragraph into it.  So I just decided to see how long she'd hang with these kinds of replies:


I cannot help a woman with a man's last name.  Sorry.   Even if you do have boobs.

Everybody in this world  have his or her last name as their fathers name so tell me what name did you want me to have as last mane  

She also lacks a proper spellchecker...but eh:


A horse has a mane.  Are you a horse? 

Do not be silly with me.  This is serious yes?  

It could be...if you have a mane, you're a horse.  A horse is a horse of course of course.  If you're not a horse, you have no mane.  You mentioned a mane.  Which is it?  


ARE READY TO HELP ME OR NOT TELL ME PLEASE  


Help? You need somebody... Help? Not just anybody.. Help? You know you need someone... Help!  

WHAT IS UR PLAN ABOUT ME JUST TELL ME  


My plan, Ms Sandra with man's last name or mane...if you have a mane, I'll saddle and ride you.  If you don't we'll discuss more practical applications for what you seek.  


I WRITE TO YOU FOR HELP AND YOU JOKE AT ME.  WHY?  


I'm just trying to establish your bona fides or bona rides, based on your email responses.  You brought up a mane, not me.  Why do you horse with me?  

I AM NOT HORSE WITH YOU!!!  IF YOU ARE NOT TO HELP ME PLEASE SAY THIS!


This!  


WHAT DO YOU MEAN?  


Go back and read your last email to me.


ARE YOU GOING TO HELP OR NOT?     


Or not.  


YOU DISAPOINT ME  


You're right...I did.  And I won't reappoint you or your FAIL of a spell checker.  


I THINK YOU SHOULD STOP WRITE TO ME.  


I think so too.  When should I stop?  Immediately or gradually, as I seem to have grown on you.  


STOP!!!!


Okay, gradually...since I seem to have grown on you.  


I'm amused she lasted that long.  The horse appeared to enjoy it too.

Seymour 'Writes' Again

I thought, after my last experience with my pet rock Seymour's alleged literary *creativity* -- ie., where he parodies famous songs and tries to pass them off as his own creation ("do NOT!!) -- that we were done with that phase.

This morning, I find that I was wrong.

A pile of wadded up paper, with a rather smug-looking rock, barely able to see out of the pile, greeted me before that first, mirage-degrading cup of coffee.

Seymour: "I've done it!"

Me: "I wasn't about to blame Windy and Barry (the barometer) for the mess you're buried in.."

Seymour: "Phfffft. I have written a song, all on my own!"

Me: "Oh nuh-uh.."

Seymour: "Oh nuh-HUH!"

Me: "Who did you parody this time?"

Seymour: "Did NOT!!"

So when I asked to see the 'lyrics', Seymour was initially rather defensive. But sitting nearby, was my old Sony Walkman, with the headphones conveniently within Seymour's reach. So I put 'em on and after replacing the batteries -- 'cuz Seymour forgot to turn the silly thing off until the batteries died -- rewound the tape a wee bit, and...

Me: "Seymour, you parodied the Fab Four!"

Seymour: "Did NOT!"

Me: "Really? So...what tune did you write your lyrics to?"

Seymour: "Uh...nuthin' special...."

Me: "C'mon, Seymour...lyrics NEED a tune, and it's a Beatles tune that was last played on here.."

Seymour: "well, okay, so I let the Beatles write a tune that I could work from...but the lyrics are MINE! Really!"

Me: "Excuse me...you LET the Beatles write a tune?"

Seymour: "Uh-HUH!"

Me: "Really?"

Seymour: "Really really!"

Me: "Is it the tune I just happened to rewind to that you wrote your lyrics to fit?"

Seymour: "uh....well...mebbe.."

Oy vay.

See, Seymour's got a fauxcreative bug going. After visits with four budding/accomplished artists/writers since 2006 (Amy Chavez, Monica Newton-McCawley, Mayden aka Cora Runkle Blinsmon, and Janine Rusnak-Abbott), he's decided that he wants to be a writer, too. Of music. Problem is...despite the incredible array of accomplished talents Seymour's been exposed to, Seymour's about as creative as a mucus membrane ("am NOT...er, what's that??"). So after a little bit of negotiations -- I promised to order some Chinese delivery later, and share -- Seymour reluctantly let me see what he'd 'created'.

I sprayed coffee all over the lyrics. Seymour got pissed. Even moreso, when Windy and Barry joined in snickering. You be the judge as I present you Seymour's latest parody lyrics ("are NOT!!"):

Picture yourself in a boat on the ocean,

bailing as fast as the water pours nigh.

Somebody's calling, you take time to notice,

a girl with some platypus eyes.

Kapok life jackets of yellow and green,

billowing under your buns.

Look for the girl...with the platypus eyes,

and she dived.

(CHORUS accompanied by something thrice-BONKed)

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

O...MG..

Me: "You CAN'T be serious..."

Seymour: "am TOO!!...Keep going, it gets better!!"

No, it doesn't:

Follow her down to a bend in the river,

where lizard lipped people suck marshmallow flies.

Everyone vomits and gags at the odor,

that gets so disgustingly high.

Newspaper cartoons appear on the bank,

waiting to take you to Cleveland ("Cleveland?").

Board them with eyes closed and holding your nose,

and you're off.

(Chorus with something thrice-BONKed)

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

noooooo.....sh**....

Me: "SEYMOUR!!"

Seymour: "Oh, lighten up! The best part's next!"

No, it ain't:

Photo yourself on a horse in a station,

with porcupine porters and butt-cracking ties.

Suddenly someone is there passing methane,

the girl with the platypus eyes.

(CHORUS with something thrice-BONKed)

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

Lucy's getting high...on door knobs,

whooooa, dude...

Seymour: "Whaddaya think?? Think I can get the Beatles to record it???"

I'm going back to bed, and see if I can wake up from this particular nightmare...

Seymour: "Is NOT!!! And anyway, mine's better than William Shatners!!!"

Forgetting, for a moment, that Seymour just admitted it was a parody ("did NOT!!")...on that part, he's got a point...

Sorry, Wrong Planet...

Even a brilliant mind can seem like it's "jumped the shark" sometimes. Or not.

The eccentric, mega-IQ mind of Stephen Hawking has a Discovery Channel piece upcoming, wherein he postulates that, contrary to years of effort and various and assorted attempts, it is a very bad idea for us to reach out across the cosmos, in search of intelligent life.

Hawking may be too late to dissuade one American city and county on the subject, but we'll return to that momentarily.

His argument seems to suggest that such a search may well result in "be careful what you wish for", and that some forms of life out there, somewhere, might be even more predatory and conquest-oriented, than we as a species have been. Which could result in the ultimate of "hostile takeover" attempts, as have been depicted in sci-fi books and films for years.

I don't know how long it'll take The Daily Kos, HuffPo, Moron.Org, et al, to brand Hawking "anti-immigrant" and a "racist", but let's take a look at this from a more..uh...me-style.

Man has had a fascination with the notion that there must be intelligent life out there, beyond our simple Solar System (anyone watching our Congress of late, knows intelligent life can't be found there). And from Man's first visit to the Moon, there have been various and sundry efforts to reach out and touch an extraterrestrial. In 1972 and '73, Pioneers 10 and 11 were launched into the cosmos, destination....infinity. Aboard both, were symbols indicating our human community, and our approximate cosmic address. In 1977, Voyagers 1 and 2 were dispatched on a similar mission, bearing Earthly recordings of different sounds and ideas, to deliver to whom/whatsoever ultimately might find and collect them, at some point in the endless Sea of Deep Space & Time.

The short speech on one of the recordings by Jimmy Carter, it is hoped, won't be held against us. This might be the reason for Hawking's trepidation, but I digress.

In 2008, NASA 'beamed' a song by the Beatles -- Across The Universe -- as a message, in the direction of the star Polaris (aka, The North Star), to anyone/thing living in the cosmic vicinity thereof. Taking into account such things as physics, the speed of light, government regulation, ASCAP and union rules, it is estimated that the message will arrive in the Polaris neighborhood about the year 2439.

Perhaps Admiral James T. Kirk can do a time warp after the message is received, to tell us how it went over: as a "message of peace", or as an inciting-of-violence obscenity in Romulan, which folks in the future will no doubt wish to thank us for, by sending us a futuristic "Phfffffft!".

Of course, sound waves have been leaving the good ol' Earth for millenia. Granted, up until the advent of radio, any transmissions from Earth that might be eventually picked up by any kind of life form, would be primitive, or across various spectrums of stuff I don't know squat about. Say, when the volcanic island Krakatoa exploded in 1883, what some cosmic listening post in deep space might eventually here would be.....*boom*. How they might interpret that, well:

Alien 1: "Rack ack ack rack...*boom*?"

Alien 2: "Rack rack ACK rack ACK, *boom*!"

Together: "Rack ack ack ack ack ack...!"

By the same token, I know nothing more about deep space radio signals NASA has detected from distant quasars, that could be almost anything, from space noise, to alien programming ("At Xoeygeryg Spunkmeisen Gronificators, We Hold Your Loyalty In Our 27 Hands. Find Us For All Your Flatuminus Needs And Extenitalia. We're Prepostunationally Located In The Horsehead Nebula, For Easy Access! Mind Meld Today!").

With the advent of radio, and later TV, what human-caused signals may eventually reach intelligent life, well..."bang...ZOOM, Alice, to the MOON!"...."Who's on First? Yes, he is. So, Who's on First? You're right! I don't even know what I'm talking about!!!"....might have another race of beings wondering amongst themselves, their own equivalent of "WTF?".

Now, it's possible that advanced cultures in other areas of the cosmos have very delicate, powerful, and capable transceivers, to listen for things as subtle as...whale song. In Star Trek IV The Voyage Home, an alien race sends a probe to Earth, seeking to find out why, in the 23rd Century, they can no longer listen to George and Gracie whale-rap. This, of course, causes all sorts of havoc with human services and conditions -- the disruption of texting ability alone would cause the entire generation of teens to implode and bitch about having nothing to do -- and it takes a handful of humans, on another alien wessel, to go back in time to find the right species to respond to the alien probe. And having successfully done so, the probe does indeed, as Dr. McCoy ventured, get the answer it wants, so it can go do something else with itself.

And all's a happy ending, except for Admiral/Captain Kirk's latest girlfriend, who blows him off too, to go chase a pair of sea mammals 300 years after she wasn't supposed to be, anymore.

I'm sure the alien race that sent the probe, found this part totally non sequitur.

Of course, many have postulated about what a human/alien contact for the first time might be like: would it be more like ET, or like Mars Attacks! In the former case, a heart-warming universal enlightenment descends upon all the world. In the latter case, a bunch of until-now undetected Martians of dubious antecedence and odious intent, wreak all kinds of havoc on Earth -- other than performing the singular public service of hosing the Congress -- before being driven back to Mars by the songs of Slim Whitman.

Or maybe it would be somewhere in between, like in the first Outer Limits (TOS) episode (a personal favorite of my pet rock, Seymour), when an engineer who owns a radio station, makes contact with a race of beings totally unlike anything one would see today with modern CGI special effects. A gaffe on the part of another radio station employee winds up "sucking" the alien from his point of transmission, to Earth, where it doesn't go real good for a couple Earthlings, but ultimately the alien gets to make a James T. Kirk-like speech, warning of the ways of Man in the face of the unknown, before disappearing into the void like a hallucination of an honest politician.

I dunno....Hawking might be onto something here. Perhaps we, as "we" are collectively, aren't ready for contact with an alien intelligence. Perhaps we're already in contact, as aliens have infiltrated us, for study and analysis, to determine if we're worthy of future, more substantive contact. Or perhaps AlGore is the alien, sent to test human intelligence and gullibility; and those who bought into his AGW scam have so totally flunked, getting voted off an alien Cosmic Intelligence Idol show, without knowing they were auditioning.

Whatever the case, I'm not worried about the Beatles speaking for me to Polarisians; my chips will be cashed in long before 2439. And if something malevolent finds, and is offended by, Jimmy Carter's words on the Voyager, well...I'm not a registered Democrat, so no worries there.

In the case of a Mars Attacks! encounter, no worries there, either: I think I have a Slim Whitman album around here, somewhere. If not, I can substitute modern-day Bob Dylan or Ozzy Osbourne one; whale song would be easier to decipher, even for an alien.

Which I may have to do, thanks to a whacked-out ballot initiative that will be up to a vote of the City and County of Denver in 2010: whether to create a City & County Extraterrestrial Affairs Committee, or not. Whether the proponent of this ballot initiative, or those who signed onto it, are also medicinal marijuana prescription holders (which are currently spreading across the City & County like wildfire through a drought-infested forest), is not known.

But before the City & County votes to create this commission or not, perhaps every voter should be required to watch ET and Mars Attacks!, while sober and before voting, to get both up and downsides of the potential results.

At the very least, know that greeting a delegation of extraterrestrials with a release of peace doves, might go over like a fart in an avalanche zone.

Bottom line here: you might think the City and County of Denver is right; or, you might think that Stephen Hawking is right; or, you might wait to find out for yourself, when or if you are contacted by an extraterrestrial that doesn't present a green card, or demand your wallet.

If you find yourself in such a meeting, and it seems to be going well, you can always direct them to Denver; if not, you can try treating them like a wrong number, and respond with a no sprechen das Polarisian, boneless nachos, awpeterstain!

Or hope you have Slim Whitman on your iPod, blackberry, cell phone ring tone, etc...