Mail is meant to be sacrosanct, a matter exclusively between the correspondents. There's pretty stiff penalties in most countries to deter the curious from looking at the mail of others. Nonetheless, there's a missive I got a while ago, and which has since been much on my mind, which I would like to share: [PDF OF LETTER]

I first heard of the Nigerian Letter Scam (which this is-- don't let the references to other nations mislead) about ten years ago, through the often-useful TV program "60 Minutes". In those pre-E days, the letter would come on the stationary of some fairly impressive sounding Nigerian government ministry, with a plot similar to the one laid out by Michael; evading obscure local laws by presenting a foreign national as the official recipient of a windfall. All the mark has to do is set up a bank account, put enough money into it to cover necessary fees (a mere $10,000, say), and then swear on their honour not to keep the millions of dollars that would be transferred in for a short time, and they could keep some pleasant percentage of the money. People would be impressed by the air of officialdom, and not think too hard about giving utter strangers from the far side of the planet everything they needed to empty out a bank account, in hopes of having it full of semi-ill-gotten quadruploons from the war-chest of some deposed despot.

I could understand reacting favourably to such a letter. Often, they came from AUTHENTIC Nigerian ministries-- which were at the time (I can't comment intelligently on the current situation) rife with corruption. However, without the cachet of official letterhead, the whole affair becomes a bit harder to swallow. Let's face it, emoticons are amusing but not classy, and the closest to creamy 70% rag bond e-mail can get is to be thoroughly proof-read. A letter has a stamp and various other indications of having been out in an actual place in the world-- if the text I enclosed above had arrived in an envelope with a couple of 2-guilder stamps on it, I'd take it a tiny bit more seriously... if I hadn't heard of Nigerian Letters. As it is, I just don't see "@netscape.net" as a terribly exotic origin, and if he's got the wherewithal to get on the net, he can't be doing too badly.

"I got your contact through network online hence decided to write you." All well and good. After all, there's a `Contact Ernst' link right on the side of each article El Hombre slaps up on the side of his Electro-Barn. However, the briefest glimpse at my online works will reveal that I am: 1) poor, 2) prone to drink, 3) a bit of a bolshevik, 4) a chronic liar, 5) probably not a real person (just like Tom Clancy).

None of these, with the exception of number four, make me a good bet for a Nigerian Letter. The mark should ideally be very slightly prosperous; they have enough money to be worth squeezing, but not so much that they won't do risky, possibly illegal things to get more scratch. In the old days, there would be some care put into selecting who got a letter, or at least the choice of neighbourhood it was sent to. By choosing an all-electric format for the scam, the lot who tagged me may have put their hook in front of a lot more noses, but I don't know that they'll find a good sucker. That's good, since some of the suckers have been lured out of their houses and done in for the residue of valuables they carried.

The other drawback, from a scamster's standpoint, is that sending e-mail is likely to get your message in front of an e-literate. I grant, there are people who through their jobs have been made to start in on e-mail without any other contact with the wired world, and who are slightly more susceptible to this sort of come-on, but even they are getting the spam-induced callousness that makes checking e-mail bearable. Those folks excluded, there has to be a vanishingly small number of netizens who would go for this sort of thing without doing a little Google(tm)-driven fact-checking. For a start, have a look at the Nederland Immigratie- en Naturalisatiedienst site and see if YOU can find anything about refugees not being allowed to open bank accounts or engaging in financial transactions. As far as I know, the Dutch are only too happy for foreigners to throw cash into their economy-- they only get cranky if you try to take the money OUT of the country.

Still, I have to wonder whether my harsh post-modern cynicism has hardened my heart against the plight of the first son of Zimbabwe's justly-famous doctor. Perhaps he languishes in the fishy streets of Amsterdam, clutching a box of valuable jewels in an inner pocket, while unable to raise the funds to visit the Rijksmuseum's exhibition of art inspired by 18th century Turkey, fighting with dogs and heroin junkies for disgarded worstebroodjes, and sucking the dregs from Heineken bottles. But, what can a fictional character such as myself do? I think I will set up an account, via the esteemed Internationale Nederlanden Groep, to start collecting the necessary funds poor Michael claims to need to turn his box of loot into a useful asset. YOU can help, too! I'll accept any donations readers care to send, and put them into the account. Just send it via Paypal to ernst@lowcrats.com, in whatever amount you feel comfortable parting with, in whatever currency you like. You'll get the warm feeling of having done something, and you'll have taken a step towards freeing yourself of the burdens and attachments which keep you from living a more spiritual life.

I encourage everyone to read that last paragraph VERY closely. Caveat lector, and thanks for the cash.