05-12-2021, 10:32 AM
Term: glurge -- syrupy sweet sentimental writing that normal people find mentally unpalatable.
The Internet is loaded with manipulative liars, some whose lives are so empty that they have nothing better to do than plagiarize someone else's glurge and make it more sickly sweet by adding fictitious garbage about how the glurge came to be written. And this stuff gets sent across the Net in emails to gullible fools who pass it on, as if it were a scared duty. "You simply must read this!"
Today I got some glurge, plagiarizing some poety, claiming it was written by a teen-aged cancer patient. The poetry was bad enough, loaded with hackneyed phrases, but the sob story about the teen wanting to see how many people would pass it on to others was just too much. Supposedly there were trackers in the mail headers that would generate an echo every time it was forwarded. I'm not sure that's even possible, and if I thought it was, I'd simply extract the message without the headers to respond.
I don't hate cancer patients, but if this kid really felt lonely, the only useful thing to do is talk to her in person. I'd want to see her faith for myself, and let her see mine. Nothing else will do her a darned bit of good. As I've said countless times, sentiment is a poor substitute for faith.
The Internet is loaded with manipulative liars, some whose lives are so empty that they have nothing better to do than plagiarize someone else's glurge and make it more sickly sweet by adding fictitious garbage about how the glurge came to be written. And this stuff gets sent across the Net in emails to gullible fools who pass it on, as if it were a scared duty. "You simply must read this!"
Today I got some glurge, plagiarizing some poety, claiming it was written by a teen-aged cancer patient. The poetry was bad enough, loaded with hackneyed phrases, but the sob story about the teen wanting to see how many people would pass it on to others was just too much. Supposedly there were trackers in the mail headers that would generate an echo every time it was forwarded. I'm not sure that's even possible, and if I thought it was, I'd simply extract the message without the headers to respond.
I don't hate cancer patients, but if this kid really felt lonely, the only useful thing to do is talk to her in person. I'd want to see her faith for myself, and let her see mine. Nothing else will do her a darned bit of good. As I've said countless times, sentiment is a poor substitute for faith.