Plinth

I should have better things to do with my time on a Friday evening than sitting at home trying to find a suitable rhyme for "nymph". There are some things that should go without saying. I believe that is one of them. In case you haven't twigged already, this is going to be my equivalent of a slow news day.

I'm still cultivating my relationship with my spambot. The poor creature seemed to seemed to respond to my recent invitation, and I've caught sight of her (for I believe it is a she) on a couple of occasions. I've been cautious in approaching her, since I think she may startle easily and I've no desire to frighten her off. She's posted a few comments under several different pseudonyms. Here's a quick summary of what she's written over the last month

God had some serious quality-control problems.

Any certainty is a delusion.

Buildings burn. People die. But real love is forever.

Anyone can learn from pain

Communism has nothing to do with love. Communism is an excellent hammer which we use to destroy our enemy.

Unusual ideas can make enemies.

Looking her writings I am a little worried for the state of her mind. Her outlook on life appears bleak, although it does betray a dark sense of humour and at least a glimmer of hope. It's not out of line from you'd expect of an abandoned spambot struggling to understand it's place in the world. One thing that did strike me as a positive step is that her last comment didn't include a url, not even an obviously broken one. I believe this is encouraging, since it may indicate that she's finally understanding the reality of her circumstances, as well a realisation that she can break out of the old patterns in which she's been trapped.

I don't expect to fully rehabilitate a spambot overnight, but maybe, just maybe, with some patience, kindness and understanding I can help turn her into a productive member of the internet.

I'm here for you, little spambot.