The email from Ted Leischner is spam.....
Sorry everyone, looks like this fellow hacked into our listserv. I have booted him off, but periodically we have had problems with such hackers.
Sam Droege sdroege@...
w 301-497-5840 h 301-390-7759 fax 301-497-5624
USGS Patuxent Wildlife Research Center
BARC-EAST, BLDG 308, RM 124 10300 Balt. Ave., Beltsville, MD 20705
Oh hideous little bat the size of snot,
With polyhedral eyes and shabby clothes,
To populate the stinking cat you walk
The promontory of the dead man's nose,
Climb with the fine leg of a Duncan Phyfe
The smoking mountains of my food
And in a comic mood
In mid-air take to bed a wife.
Riding and riding with your filth of hair
On gluey foot or wing, forever coy,
Hot from the compost and green sweet decay
Sounding your buzzer like an urchin toy;
You dot all whiteness with diminutive stool;
In the tight belly of the dead
Burrow with hungry head
And inlay maggots like a jewel.
At your approach the great horse stomps and paws
Bringing the hurricane of his heavy tail;
Shod in disease you dare to kiss my hand
Which sweeps against you like an angry flail;
Still you return, return, trusting your wing
To draw you from the hunter's reach
That learns to kill to teach
Disorder to the tinier thing.
My peace is your disaster. For your death
Children like spiders cup their pretty hands
And wives resort to chemistry of war.
In fens of sticky paper and quicksands
You glue yourself to death. Where you are stuck
You struggle hideously and beg;
You amputate your leg
Imbedded in the amber muck.
But I, a man, must swat you with my hate,
Slap you across the air and crush your flight,
Must mangle with my shoe and smear your blood,
Expose your little guts pasty and white,
Knock your head sidewise like a drunkard's hat,
Pin your wings under like a crow's,
Tear off your flimsy clothes
And beat you as one beats a rat.
Then like Gargantua I stride among
The corpses strewn like raisins in the dust,
The broken bodies of the narrow dead
That catch the thrust with fingers of disgust.
I sweep. One gyrates like a top and falls
And stunned, stone blind, and deaf
Buzzes it's frightful F
And dies between three cannibals.
- Karl Shapiro
From: Ted Leischner <bctedl1@...> To: bctedl1@... Date: 09/27/2009 04:45 PM Subject: [beemonitoring] It's Urgent.... Sent by: email@example.com
Hope you get this on time ? Sorry I didn't inform you about my trip United Kingdom for a program and am having some difficulties here because i misplaced my wallet on my way to the hotel where my money and other valuable things were. presently my passport and my things are been held down by the hotel management pending when i make payment.
I will like you to assist me with a loan of £1,200 Pounds to sort-out my hotel bills and to get myself back home. I will appreciate whatever you can afford to assist me with, I'll Refund the money back to you as soon as i return, let me know if you can be of any help? ASAP.
I don't have a phone where i can be reached.
please let me know immediately.
Regards, Ted Leischner
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>Sorry everyone, looks like this fellow hacked into our listserv. IActually, not technically - this is a scam that hacks into a *real*
>have booted him off, but periodically we have had problems with such
e-mail account belonging to a real person, and sends out fraudulent
messages via the valid address. In other words, Ted Leischner is
probably a real subscriber to the list, so it was Ted who got hacked,
not the list. I received a very similar message from a colleague's
email account that claimed they were stranded in a hotel in Cardiff,
Wales, and asked for a Western Union telegram payment. The same
message was received by everyone in that colleague's e-mail address
Evidently, someone in the UK discovered a way to hack into yahoo
accounts, and has created a new cottage industry.
Doug Yanega Dept. of Entomology Entomology Research Museum
Univ. of California, Riverside, CA 92521-0314 skype: dyanega
phone: (951) 827-4315 (standard disclaimer: opinions are mine, not UCR's)
"There are some enterprises in which a careful disorderliness
is the true method" - Herman Melville, Moby Dick, Chap. 82