10 Billion Interruptions a Day?

Did you happen to read this item in today’s Milwaukee Journal Sentinel newspaper, God?

Authorities say Oleg Nikolaenko was the king of spam, a 23-year-old Russian controlling a network of infected computers generating 10 billion unwanted e-mails a day - a third of the global spam stream - until a Milwaukee FBI agent unplugged the operation. 

The key word is “unwanted.” Each of these e-mails represent an interruption, even if they are not opened. Some people deal with interruptions better than others. In the worst case, an interruption will permanently stop two parts of a thought from being connected. The consequences could range from forgetting a friend’s birthday to solving an important equation. (“E equals… equals… M. Yes, that’s right. M what? What is E again? Oh, yes, energy. E is energy and M is mass. But how could energy equal mass? Doesn’t add up. Oh, well, time to do the laundry.”)

In situations like these, I usually suggest something for you to implement on Earth 2.0. I’m feeling generous tonight, so I’ll give you two scenarios for a person who’s responsible for interrupting people 10 billion times a day:

Scenario 1:  The arm most responsible for the spam shrinks one inch per day. No divine explanation is given. The selfish person must look deep inside for an answer. When bad things happen, the tendency is to think, “What did I do to deserve this?” I’m sure the person won’t have to think for too long. When the spamming stops, the arm will mysteriously grow one inch a day until reaching its starting position.

Scenario 2:  At 8:05 every night (8:00 would be too obvious), the person will lose the ability to think for an entire minute. This would puzzle others in the vicinity, who would gradually distance themselves from the person. After losing a number of friends, the person might ask, “Why am I being abandoned or, may I go so far as to say, forsaken?”

R-E-V-E-N-G-E. Such a sweet word. You should use it more often.