The Forgotten Tragedy

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In these days, many people find themselves deluged with spam.

As their various body parts swell out of proportion, and their skin breaks out in chitinous plates due to cheap herbal alternatives to pharmaceuticals, and they stare blindly at hot nude antelopes coupling with superintelligent shades of the color blue—

Because, after all, an estimable pornographer exceeds all boundaries—

These people may consider themselves the true victims of the Age of Spam.

Yet there is another, forgotten tragedy.

This is the plight of the Nigerian banker.

For many years, they have humbly toiled to extricate the fortunes of aristocrats from their impoverished country. What higher goal can they adopt, than to deliver this money into the hands of worthy Americans? There is no more noble or selfless calling in all of Nigeria.

(This is, in part, due to the anti-selflessness legislation passed in the early 80s, as part of the Vatican’s campaign against the use of condoms or common sense in Africa.)

Yet what greets the missives of the humble Nigerian banker now? Who will still listen to their plaintive cries?

Drowned in a tide of those who would use their identities, their names, their noble calling for cheap profit, their attempts to bestow their beneficent largess go unheard.

Surrounded by their great long fields of money, they weep.

The world does not listen.

The world is too busy being distracted by its new and shiny chitinous plates.

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