A few months back I received an unsolicited email from a man claming to be a Mr. David Pitman of the London Stock Exchange. (A little Googling confirmed this to be a real-life person). A friend of Mr. Pitman’s had apparently recently died and he was now looking to get in touch with me (ME!) about a sure-fire financial windfall. It seemed a bit fishy, but you should never be too dismissive of a good thing when it comes around, so I responded.

What follows is the extent of our month long email exchange/one-sided love affair. (Each of the following emails and responses is 100% real.)

________________________

From: David Pitman PhD
Subject: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 4, 2010 8:08:40 PM EDT
To: Dave White

Good day,
I am David Pitman Director of Marketing London stock exchange U.K. I am contacting you in trust that you would treat this matter of mine as confidential.
During my tenure as the Financial Controller, I discovered shortfalls that I call “break-off”, that is the time between the realtime change in the value of stock and the time of reflection on the exchange board which is exactly 0.83 sec. Within this time, any traded stock will reflect the initial value to the broker. I then succeeded in diverting all the funds emanating from these differences to the account of a friend of mine. After four years this account had grown into millions of british pound sterling. Last month James died and I have no access to the account. About a week ago I was in contact with his lawyer who is a signatory to his Will.
He offered that we can help ourselves by adjusting the beneficiary status of the account in the Will to suit anybody who shared the same surname with James so we can withdraw the funds. We agreed to share the fund at a rate of 30,30,40. That is 30% to the beneficiary 30% to the lawyer and 40% to me. I decided to contact you because you share the same last name with the deceased. If you feel we can do this together, please contact immediately.

Thanks and god bless.
David Pitman

________________________

From: Dave White
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 4, 2010 8:21:21 PM EDT
To: davidpitman@london.com

Hello Mr. Pitman,

James was my uncle. This is MY inheritance you and that gutless lawyer of his are attempting to scam off. Both my mother and aunt (James’ widow) have been in touch with London authorities regarding this ongoing scam. I will be forwarding this email correspondence to the appropriate investigators.

Donald

________________________

From: davidpitman@london.com
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 4, 2010 10:38:58 PM EDT
To: Dave White

Dear Dave,
I am sorry about this but you seem not to understand the situation. The money in the account belongs to both of us. In fact I put him in custody of the money. We can work this out and still share the money and we will all be happy.
Please give me your phone number so that we can talk more.

Regards
David Pitman PhD

________________________

From: Dave White
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 4, 2010 10:54:08 PM EDT
To: davidpitman@london.com

Dear Mr. Pitman,

I’m sorry to say it is YOU, sir, who does not understand the situation. My uncle James was very careful in creating this account, such that, were anything to happen to him, neither you nor his grubby lawyer would be able to get your collective grubby hands on it.

This fund was established to support the education of my two young children. Your attempt to defraud me, me dear deceased uncle, AND my innocent offspring is BEYOND despicable. How dare you, sir? How dare you indeed.

Once again, I have forwarded all correspondence to the relevant London authorities (better known as “the Bobbys”.) This recent turn of events has cast further doubt on the details of my Uncle’s “accident,” the real-life circumstances of which I have always questioned. How long can one live with an undisclosed shellfish allergy? Suspicious indeed, sir.

You and that weasel lawyer will be hearing from my representation.

Donald

________________________

From: davidpitman@london.com
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 5, 2010 7:48:12 AM EDT
To: Dave White

Dear Donald,
You are making things difficult for yourself, I would not write you again on this matter if you don not seem to recognize what is happening here. I am not interested in any of his inheritance, all I am interested in is the account in which the money is deposited. I can assure you that without my help, you cannot gain access to any of this fund. You might gain access to all other of his properties and accounts but this account in which he deposited this money was not included in his will, so if you are really going to think right, you should know better to aid me in retrieving the money. It is a one way thing, you either work with me or, you get nothing.
Good day

________________________

From: Dave White
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 5, 2010 10:48:48 PM EDT
To: davidpitman@london.com

Mr. Pitman,

Please allow me to apologize for the severity of my previous emails. I have been angry and confused and lacking direction since my uncle’s passing. It has been a difficult few weeks. I want nothing but the best for me and my family––and for you, too, sir. I know that may be difficult to believe at this point, given the way I have behaved in our correspondence thus far. But it is thoroughly true.

I have long admired your success, from your days at Merrill Lynch to, over these past few years, your role at the London Stock Exchange. Most recently that admiration has blossomed into something different, something more complicated, something I hesitate to call “romantic” but for which I lack any other word. This is difficult to convey over email, trapped in typed bits and bytes, lacking subtext, so I will leave it at that.

If there is any chance at all of this being real between us, please let me know. I am prepared to give whatever is necessary: my social security number, my bank routing information, anything. What do you need from me to make this right again?

Abraham Lincoln once said, “As a nation of free men, we must live through all time, or die by suicide.” I apologize for passive aggressively accusing you or murdering my uncle. That was likely a different dude.

Cheers,
Donald

________________________

From: davidpitman@london.com
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 6, 2010 6:23:18 PM EDT
To: Dave White

Good-day Donald,
I hope you can treat this matter as confidential as it may seem. All we need is for you to stand in as his next-of-kin. His WILL will then be adjusted and your name will come in as the beneficiary to his accounts. Once that is initiated,  we will acquire the “Oat of Affidavit” confirming a transfer of ownership which will be sent to you with which you can apply for the transfer of the money to your home account, then we can share the funds. I am really putting a lot of trust in you.
Before we can initiate the change of beneficiary status I need you to give me your phone number so we can call you. His lawyer would withdraw his will and make the amendments and then he can apply to the court for the change of ownership. He is positive that this can be achieved within three weeks.
I will be hoping to hear from you as soon as possible.

Regards
David Pitman

________________________

From: Dave White
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 7, 2010 10:32:07 PM EDT
To: davidpitman@london.com

Mr. Pitman,

It is my every intention to treat this matter delicately and in extreme confidence. It was for this reason that I stopped by your office yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon at the London Stock Exchange in Paternoster Square, to speak with you in person. After an extended interaction with your reception desk (during which I never let on to the true nature of my visit) I was finally led to your office. There, you proceeded to behave as if you had never heard of me, my Uncle James nor any confidential account from which we needed to withdraw funds. Needless to say, I was confused, startled and, quite frankly, heart broken. (I am in love with you.)

What manner of game is this, sir? Per your noted requirement, I had even brought with me the ‘Oats of Affidavit,’ upon which you looked with confused disgust, as if I were a crazy man. At first I reasoned you were thrown off by my Oats, they having been manufactured by the Quaker Oats Company, an American food conglomerate I imagine Brits are somewhat unfamiliar with. Unfortunately, I was never able to explain myself (nor my oats) as I was quickly ejected from the premises by the strong arms of your security detail, who made quick work quite physically tossing me from Paternoster Square, a rag-doll DJ Jazzy Jeff to the LSE’s domineering Uncle Phil (another American reference I don’t soon expect you to understand, you limey heartbreaker.)

I have little clue where this leaves us. My uncle is still dead, the account remains in limbo, and my soul continues to ache for your embrace. The erection of our love has long lasted well past the medically advisable four hour limit. Perhaps the extreme secrecy of this matter forced you to pretend you did not know who I was, for fear of alerting others in your work place to the account and our love affair. Nevertheless, I was hurt by what happened and expect an apology.

Oh David. Sweet David. My prince. Perhaps it is all my fault. I will never know for sure. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please tell me what number to dial and I will call with haste tomorrow. I long to hear your voice again.

Donald

________________________

From: davidpitman@london.com
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 8, 2010 5:27:28 AM EDT
To: Dave White

HOW COULD YOU COME TO MY OFFICE? I AM STILL MAD WITH YOU. DO YOU WANT TO PUT ME IN TROUBLE? I AM OF HIGH REPUTATION AND WE DO NOT NEED TO HAVE PHYSICAL CONTACT UNLESS I SAY SO. ALL I NEED YOU TO DO IS TO FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS. GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER, AND I WILL HAVE THE LAWYER CONTACT YOU.

________________________

From: davidpitman@london.com
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 15, 2010 8:31:34 AM EDT
To: Dave White

I will need you to send a scanned copy of your international passport to me via email as soon as possible.

________________________

From: Dave White
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 21, 2010 9:27:14 PM EDT
To: davidpitman@london.com

Mr. Pittman,

My love. I have been a wreck since your previous email admonishing my visit to your office. I am only now able to breathe freely and type with repose. The following is my attempt to make things right between us once again…

Per your request, I have attached a scanned copy of my passport. You must forgive me my delay; I have been quite busy with a new business venture and am still dealing with the repercussions of my divorce from a childish and poorly acted ex wife. Also, (SPOILER ALERT) my secretary recently dropped dead at her desk.

Before you process my passport information, there is something you should know: I am not the real Donald Draper. Not by birth. My given name is Richard Whitman. I was born in Illinois a neglected whore child. My mother died during childbirth and I was raised by an abusive father and stepmother. My father died when I was 10 years old after being kicked in the fucking face by a spooked horse during an electrical storm. At the age of 19, I enlisted in the Army, promptly being shipped to Korea. There, I was quickly put under the command of the real Donald Draper, who not long afterwards died in a freak gasoline fight accident. With Mr. Draper’s face burned beyond all recognition, I was able to snatch his dog tags and steal his identity. This is where you have now found me, explaining my life history via ratings-grabbing narrative flashbacks.

I hope my well-developed though complicated backstory does not endanger our business transaction. The aura of mystique surrounding my past has always been an asset to me both in the office and in the bedroom. I know you have forbidden physical contact “unless [you] say so.” I hope the saying so is said so soon; I am a lecherous, angry, timeless prick, one who quite neatly embodies the disintegration of the nebulous post-war suburban American ideal.

Do you know what happiness is? Happiness is the smell of a new car. It’s freedom from fear. It’s a billboard on the side of a road that screams with reassurance that whatever you’re doing is OK. You are OK.

Donald

________________________

From: davidpitman@london.com
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 22, 2010 5:35:15 AM EDT
To: Dave White

I checked the passport with the immigrations but they said it is forged.

________________________

From: Dave White
Subject: Re: WE NEED TO FINALIZE THIS
Date: September 22, 2010 12:33:30 PM EDT
To: davidpitman@london.com

Mr. Pitman,

Yes, of course it is forged. Did you not read the substance of my email? I am not the real Don Draper and therefore do not have a legitimate birth certificate. As such, I cannot obtain a legal passport. I thought I explained all this. Fortunately this passport has been accepted at multiple international checkpoints. If you are saying it is not being accepted by “the immigrations” then they must be on to me and my wily ways. I will have to forge a new one. (I should have never fired Sal Romano in episode 9 of season 3.)

I really feel our business transaction can be easily and quickly finalized with a simple, covert visit to your office. I will not make a scene like last time. I will bring with me a picnic basket filled with the finest breads and cheeses known to man. I will feed you grapes from the vine as I divulge my social security number, which I have tattooed across my inguinal ligaments, the developed lower abdominal tendon featured prominently on attractive male models who have lowered their Calvin Klein underwear beyond a certain point. I do not own any pubic hair. I will leave the Quaker Oatmeal at home. We will listen to Peabo Bryson. I will smell of musky flowers. I will lightly tickle my bank routing information onto your goose-bumping back, forcing you to decipher the numbers using nothing but the erotic sensations and your mind. We will make a game of it.

Does this sound enticing to you?

Donald

________________________

Apparently not; I haven’t heard from him since!

People really really love to love hating PETA, which is probably why PETA remains one of the more effective non-profits around.

In an especially tortured post yesterday, Best Week Ever’s Dan Hopper explains why he simply cannot post the lastest controversial ad from PETA, recently barred from appearing during the Super Bowl:

I didn’t want to post PETA’s REJECTED SUPER BOWL AD OMGGGG SO CONTROVERSIALLLLL!!!! because it’s obviously a calculated attempt by PETA to say “check out this commercial we made that THE MAN refused to air,” even though they clearly had no intention to actually pay for Super Bowl airtime.

Needless to say, he posted the ad.

He concludes with some impassioned non-profit existential crisis-bait:

Why does PETA still exist? This is nonsense.

But it’s easy: PETA still exists because Dan Hopper still posted that ad, even though he didn’t want to.

Don’t look now! PETA owns you.

Who (other than, apparently, The Fixx) knew the Toyota “Saved By Zero” commercials were based on an actual, true-to-existence pop song*?

As an aside; I never realized how annoying those Toyota ads were until a lot of other people started pointing out how annoying those Toyota ads were.

And herein lies the moral dilemma: who is higher on the stink list, the marketing folks who created the ads, or the nit-pickily culture-conscious types who first pointed out the obnoxiousness?

* Embedding of the video has been disabled for some mysterious reason. And not just embedding of that one solitary YouTube video, but of every YouTube version of The Fixx’s “Saved By Zero” music video, across multiple users. Which is weird. Because The Fixx is…who the eff is The Fixx? And why would they care to disable embedding of their kitschy music video? Obviously they’re ok with it being on YouTube, otherwise the video would just be yanked. So why the beef with frustrated bloggers made ranty by their irritating pop song chorus?

I’m having a hard time figuring out whether or not these Brooke Shields VW ads are deliberately riffing off her well-publicized struggle with postpartum depression:

Women everywhere are having babies just to get a new Volkswagen minivan.

It’s a joke, yes, and, har har, potentially a funny were it presented by, I dunno, Lori Loughlin. But Brooke Shields had a very public struggle with a terrible disease, a debilitating depression centered around the overwhelming feeling that having a baby ruined her life.

I highly highly doubt these ads are intended to be taken in this way, but, then…why Brooke Shields?

I just can’t stop thinking about it: the horror of her condition, the sadness of the isolation, all brought to bear by the televised dramatization of Brooke Shields’ postpartum thoughts, as she stared aimlessly out the window, day in and day out, contemplating suicide and wrestling with immense self-loathing and a frightening indifference to her newborn child.

Man, I really shouldn’t have had a baby just to get a new Volkswagon.

Drawing attention to and normalizing postpartum depression was certainly a wonderful thing for Brooke Shields to do (as was making Tom Cruise look like a total dweebus). So good on Brooke for that.

But these ads just make me sad and somewhat panic-stricken. Which is totally not the mood I tend to be in before I buy cars.

(It probably would have been more effective for Shields to riff off of Suddenly Susan, thus leaving viewers feeling nostalgic and slightly annoyed, a much more consumeristic state of mind.)

Prosecute more incidents of prison masturbation.

Andrew Sullivan highlights some “good news about smoking,” touting a new study that shows smoking may reduce one’s risk of Parkinson’s. Sullivan quotes David Harsanyi, who asks:

My only question is how many major news organizations will give this politically incorrect fact the attention it deserves? If eating tofu lowered your risk of Parkinson’s by 54 percent would it be a front-page story? Should it be a front-page story if tobacco does the trick?

I recently heard cutting off your head is a sure-fire way to prevent brain cancer. I wonder why I haven’t seen this on the front-page..

Foxy Brown was once a cashier at my grocery store.

CNN gets down to the nitty gritty with some hard hitting news:

Two airliners had to circle for 18 minutes and a plane ferrying human lungs for transplant was briefly delayed Friday while an airport’s lone air traffic controller took a bathroom break, the controller’s union said.

It’s gotta be pretty harsh to have CNN publish the length of your poo right there on their website.

From a column in the LA Times:

Before I said yes, I told him I needed to ask my wife, Cassandra. Afraid of a fight, I wimpily text-messaged her. Less than a minute later, she wrote back: “Are you going to get naked and simulate sex? I’d like to see that.” I read this five times. I couldn’t figure out if it was a joke, or if she was turned on, or just didn’t care. Was it, “I’d like to see that,” as in “I’d like to see it over and over again when you’re not home as a marital aid”? Or was it, “I’d like to see that,” as in “I’d like to see that so I could show everyone your pathetic attempts at foreplay”? Text messaging, I discovered, needs more emoticons.

Brooklyn, March 24th at 4:41 PM – The Ice Cream Truck is heard, its first appearance of 2007.

Can hardly wait for Spring in full swing.

Jeopardy! super-champ Ken Jennings is increasingly becoming one of the Best Bloggers Alive, and this post defending his usage of the generic feminine pronoun is a good example why:

Even if you’re not a feminist, there are already four ridiculous things in Cranky 1950s Man’s e-mail. One: that you should stop reading a book the second you disagree with exactly two words. Two: that two pronouns in a 300-page book constitute “agitating” for anything. Three: that there even is such a thing as agitating for a cause without telling anyone, and four: that books should, at all costs, protect readers from the author’s point of view.

For perhaps his best claim to the title check out this post analyzing dance styles from the Charlie Brown Christmas Special.

If the subtitle of this blog is anything as indication––Poetry, Politics, (and the) Boneless Sea Fauna––I’ll say right now I feel like a bit of a pussy starting off with poetry. In fact, I can’t determine whether or not posting poetry here would be a good idea at all, or just an uncomfortable and unintentional indication of my closeted namby-pamby. I’m so out of practice. My blog needs to be redesigned. Is that any reason not to do this? I can’t tell whether or not I should focus on the politics (a not-as-gay, left of right-of-center Andrew Sullivan), or the poetry (a non-Chilean, non-Black, non-as-impressive Amiri Baraka/Pablo Neruda). I’ve already found that this is no reason to start a blog––self-indulgent self-congratulation, unintentional self-parody. But it’s ok; I’m tired and lonely and a little bit thirsty. It’s a yawn, Brooklyn is a sleepy town, but there is some hip hop on the streets and beats in our meats, even for a young vegetarian. This is the introduction, and I just gentrified an entire city block.