by Eve Stenson

Everyone feels that warm fuzzy glow when the daily e-mail check (or hourly, or minutely, or secondly – members of Compulsive E-mail Checkers Anonymous know who they are) reveals that, indeed, "you’ve got mail." In that instant, with that one grammatically questionable phrase, you know you’re loved because someone took a little time out of their busy day to send you a quick note . . . Then a closer inspection reveals that it’s just another forward, and the only question before you "file" it with the rest of its kind is to which category this particular specimen belongs. After all, one must distinguish among the myriad different varieties of useless forwards.

The more redeeming are the funny ones, which can actually be quite humorous at times. (Proposed celebrities’ answers to "Why did the chicken cross the road?" included Clinton’s "It depends on what you mean by chicken;" Falwell’s "Because liberals, homosexuals and Satan brought him to such devastation;" and Reagan’s "What chicken?") Also, when you’re trying to avoid productivity, it can be fun to read the 200-questions surveys from your 20 closest friends. And if you take the time to fill it out yourself and send it back, that’s at least another half hour that you can conveniently ignore that Faith and Critical Reasoning assignment. On the other end of the spectrum from the fun stuff, though, are the chain letters. My favorites are the ones that threaten my life: "The last person who did not forward this was run over by a Mack truck that very day." Obviously, the other forwarded e-mail the poor fellow neglected, though – the one about the crosswalk sign out front being on the fritz – had nothing to do with it.

Many chain letters, instead of threatening, just suggest that by sharing a generic message with everyone in your address book, you would make them all feel unique. (There are a few of these messages that I am convinced were written by Barney the Dinosaur on a bad self-esteem day: "You are special. Really, you are. Even if you are the largest and purplest target for ridicule in the nation.")

Then there is all the bad poetry lamenting the fates of people who don’t exist but if they had might have experienced horrible tragedies, like being killed by a drunk driver or finding out a friend they kept meaning to contact has kicked the bucket. Personally, I think I’ll save my sympathy for the real people I know who experience hardship.

Speaking of sympathies, how about all the ones that appeal to one’s sense of self righteousness by insisting that each forward helps a good cause? ("The more people receive this e-mail, the better the chance that a heart donor will be found for little Timmy.")

Or for that matter, perhaps it’s your cause they’re championing. ("Everyone who forwards this e-mail will receive a check for $100.") It seems that all the people who send me these things keep forgetting to mention the fortunes they’ve made in doing so…

Last but not least, there are the public service forwards, which insist that the information they contain is not only valid, but must be shared with everyone you know and love, so as to protect them from harm. Warnings about viruses (the computer versions and the original Moneran variety), Halloween terrorist attacks, and other imminent dangers are always seeking to raise another hullabaloo.

Now, it is obvious that those individuals who originate all these false messages have way too much time on their hands. I suppose if you don’t have anything better to do, propagating lies must be a wonderful source of amusement (which, by the way, explains why politicians never get bored of being in office). Yet, must we so eagerly assist them?

Thus, it is for the good of the entire American public (not to mention little Johnny, who desperately needs a new liver) that you should forward this article to everyone you know. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to tell them that they’re special.

(published in The Ram, 21 February 2002)