You are currently browsing the Counterfeit Humans weblog archives for the day October 17, 2007.
October 17, 2007 by Keli.
I declared a state of emergency in my home yesterday for about eleven minutes. I am mostly to blame for this, but nonetheless, it originated with a stuper (short again, for a predominantly stupid person).
I received an e-mail. Generally, while reading such mail, my right hand gingerly grips my mouse, as index finger hovers, poised and hungry for action. I prepare to highlight and delete. The instant my eyes fall upon the name of a certain sender, I left click my mouse so fiercely, I half expect its innards to fly out and shatter the glass on my screen. Oh, would that it had!
The subject of the e-mail in question was “Amber Alert.” As you may know, this refers to a child abduction crisis. The sender was Judy*. Instinctively, whenever Judy’s name appears on my screen, I hit delete, take cover in case I missed, then once I am assured of success, I get up and take a walk. If your name is Judy, and you’ve e-mailed me, chances are it was deleted, unread.
As I strolled, I began to feel a mild pinch of guilt. What if Judy was like The Boy Who Cried Wolf? What if this one time, she actually conveyed a meaningful message regarding a missing child? Are you shaking your heads? If not, you should be because I went back to my computer screen, dove into my deleted box of discarded missives and retrieved Judy’s wretched e-mail.
It was, as I expected, a notice about a missing boy, complete with pictorial and heart wrenching plea from the anguished mom asking for help to find her child. A tear sprang to my eye; my heart swelled for the mother’s pain. He looked like such a gamely youth. I memorized his innocent features lest I run into the frightened teen cowering between a couple of Mack Truck-size thugs when I went shopping that very afternoon. A picture of me cleverly and bravely rescuing the child sprinted across my mind. I’d wear my tennis shoes and carry a baseball bat to the grocery store, just in case.
Amid such thoughts, I scrolled down Judy’s e-mail past the 250 or so names it’d been forwarded to and noticed that it had been sent to Judy by a woman with whom I was familiar. This lady seemed an intelligent, detail-oriented sort. I smelled a faint air of legitimacy. At the bottom, she urged readers to forward it to one and all.
Dutifully, I forwarded it to my mother whom I knew would indefatigably distribute the e-mail. Then I decided that if I were going to play a part in reuniting the boy with his dear mother, I’d better conduct a Google search. I entered his name. These key words caught my eye in the first five entries:
“Urban Legend,” “Boy Isn’t Missing,” “Netlore,” “Hoax” and “If you forward this, you will be forever branded an idiot.”
Drat! I’d been duped. The victim of a facile prank cloaked in an appeal to my maternal emotions. I contacted my mother and told her to immediately press delete.
I’d survived all previous Internet scams sent via Judy. Yet this time, I was practically combing the streets for a missing youth that was in reality at home, playing with his iPod. Had my healthy skepticism eloped with my unfaithful sense of reason?
I knew I was not alone. This e-mail had an expansive circulation in the two months since it had been sent adrift. Are we all stupers? Not all, but some, certainly. I forwarded this because I actually believed for a few moments that I could help another person (insert doleful violins playing something by Debussy).
I suggest that should you receive an e-mail of this type, be watchful of certain telltale signs of trickery, such as:
Think before you forward.
Keli
Keli@Counterfeithumans.com
* Yes, this is the same Judy who’s been featured here twice before, as you old time readers know.
Posted in Plain Old Fashioned Stupidity | 11 Comments »