Someone calling himself E Norris writes:

Sup
http://[domain name withheld].by
Warmest Regards

e_norris@caribe.net

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Sup yourself, E?

Other than the fact you're using a Puerto Rican E-mail server to send me a link to notorious virus server in Belarus, what could possibly prevent me from imagining I know you from somewhere and clicking on the link you sent me?

Maybe the fact that people who say "Sup?" almost never say "Warmest Regards"?

That said, do you suppose your Belarussian server would host a web page for my friend the Exiled Nigerian Prince? For some obscure reason, web hosting companies in the West get nervous about setting up a page for what they are calling a "notorious international fugitive." (I keep correcting them to say "ALLEGED notorious international fugitive," but they never listen to me.)

Based only on our brief contact, I am sure that the people operating the server you are trying to send me to in Belarus have no such scruples.

If you can get him in touch with the operators, I'm sure the Exiled Nigerian Prince would be glad to pay you a "finders' fee" by making a direct deposit into your bank account. Would $230,000 be enough? If so, please go to the Exiled Nigerian Prince's contact page (http://www.exilednigerianprince.com) and enter the requested information.

It may take him a little time to get back to you, since he and his fellow survivors are currently on a hunt for food on an uncharted island that is teeming with what seem to be prehistoric beasts hunting them for food. So, don't call us; we'll call you.

Paul,
It is my turn on the computer, but I have to be brief. Our food hunting excursion was successful in that we found food - a racoon-sized reptile of some sort that was caught in a snare. But it was also confusing, because the creature was caught in a snare. This tells me that someone else is hiding out on the island. Will they be friend or foe when we meet them?

When he saw the snare, our French crew member Jean-Paul said, "See plot sickens," but I have no idea what he meant.

On the bright side, Kim, our Korean crew member said that he remembered one of the documentaries that Saide and Carlos were talking about. On the one he saw, the black man had a close call but wasn't actually killed. So there's hope for me yet.

And on one other front, Saide has successfully made contact with the drug kingpin who put the fake wanted poster out some weeks back. He is called El Guapo, and he will be glad to launch an expedition to recapture me. Saide warned him that there are dangerous creatures about and asked him if he had any real big guns. El Guapo asked him if a shoulder-fired missile-launcher qualified, and he said it probably would. I'm still a little nervous about bringing this guy onto the island. But every time I remind Saide of his promise to protect me, he says "Right."

Though money should not be my biggest concern, I will add that the cruise ship we came on has apparently given up on us and resumed its course, with several million of my dollars hidden in a secret compartment. I hope the coxswain that drafted me into this duty slips on the shuffleboard court and breaks his neck.

My time on the computer is almost up. Carlos wants to get online and order a widescreen television from Amazon. Not because we need a widescreen television, but because he figures if they can get a delivery person to the island, we may be able to hitch a ride off the island with him.

Readers,

May the Exiled Nigerian Prince, Raul the Reckoner, Fake Jeffrey Skilling, El Guapo, and all our friends and I wish you the best year ever!

Paul,

I have today's update for you. And it's a little bad and a little good. Also, Raul, if you're still following, I have a message for you.
On our next expedition to find food, we discovered an old Guatemalan man setting a snare. I was both glad and saddened to recognize him - the father of the beautiful Maria I had to part with so sadly on the Guatemalan coast.

Apparently, when I couldn't come along, they felt it was wrong to take the boat by themselves, so they returned to their village and brought the whole family. But the boat was riding too low in the water and using too much gas. When a storm arose, they lost power and were tossed up onto the beach of this island. They dragged the boat as far inland as they could and covered it with branches until they could figure out where they were and perhaps barter for some gas. Fortunately, they were fairly cautious for fear that they were on a private island with security forces or something - especially when they came across an electric fence that was unpowered, but looked like it could still be turned on at any minute.

Unfortunately, they weren't cautious enough, because Maria's cousin - the one her father was hoping she would marry now that I was out of the picture - was suddenly dragged off the path by something big and scaly. They were traumatized, of course, but Maria's father had spent half his life hiding from guerrilla fighters, so he knew how to sneak silently and unseen through the jungle. So now Maria, her half-sister Anita, her much younger cousins Sofia, Gabriela, and Diego, and Maria's grandmother on her mother's side are all hiding out in an abandoned bunker. Maria's father Emmanuel, being the only able-bodied man among the survivors, has been going out for food and water every day.

I write this with mixed emotions. I am terribly sorry that Maria's family is in this terrible situation with us. But part of me can't help but be glad to see Maria again.

My Spanish has been improving because of my experience on the cruise ship, but we learned most of this story with Emmanuel narrating and Carlos interpreting for us. I couldn't help but see the Frenchman Jean-Paul looking at Maria admiringly, so I went over, sat beside her, and took her hand, hoping that Jean-Paul would get the point. Jean-Paul is now looking at Maria's half-sister Anita admiringly.

The fact that Maria let me hold her hand was encouraging, or else maybe it just shows how frightened she is. She never would have done so before.

After the others returned to our hideout, I remained for a moment to try to speak to her in Spanish. I thought I was telling her that her skin and her hair looked lovely. But she though I was asking about her magnificent kumquats, and pulled away. Her father ushered me out of the door and closed it. I told them we would come back tomorrow.

Today Carlos had his turn at the computer before me. He is very excited, because Amazon says his flat-screen television should arrive tomorrow. He is hoping that whatever brings it will have room for at least one person on the return journey. He was also pleased - though he tried not to show it in front of Maria's family - to hear that another Latino has already been killed. Apparently he thinks that "gets him off the hook" or something.

Saide, on the other hand, was distressed to learn that there are children on the island. He swears he will have nothing to do with them. Apparently he thinks that being responsible for the children even momentarily makes him the next target. How superstitious these people are!

Isn't life strange? I may have lost millions in cash, but, knowing that Maria and her family are on this island, I would far rather be here trying to protect them than safe on the cruise ship.

Besides, I still have ten times what I lost in banks all over Central America.

That my boat seems to have survived the shipwreck is a good thing. If nothing else, maybe we can find some gasoline and send Maria's family on their way. In fact, it would probably be better to do that before El Guapo gets here with his really big guns, if possible.

Oh, and here's my message for Raul. Emmanuel has found the best coffee beans in the world. They're just lying on the ground in a grove underneath these trees where some sort of bat-winged lizard seems to sleep at night. Emmanuel has no idea why the coffee beans are there, but he ground some up and they make coffee that is rich and sweet at the same time. I thought you should know. Not that I want you in danger with us, but perhaps I can bring some away from the island for you to test if we, er, when we escape.

Wishing you the best New Year, I am your friend the Exiled Nigerian Prince, Mutabe to his friends.

Prince, my friend,

If you get this message, do NOT drink that coffee. I know why the beans are laying on the ground under a bunch of trees, and why they taste so sweet. And you DON'T want to know.

Bringing the beans to me wouldn't help, because it's not the beans' DNA that is giving them that flavor.

Thank you for telling me about it at any rate. It shows you're heart's still in the right place. And by the way, the business is flourishing. Thanks again for the investment,

Your friend,
Raul the Reckoner

Dear readers: Due to a computer glitch, this message from the ENP went into a spam filter, so I cut and pasted it here:

Hello, Paul and Raul,

It's my turn at the computer again. Raul, thanks for the warning about the coffee beans. I think I've figured out what you meant. Does the brand name "Kopi Luwak" give a hint?

You both might like to know the outcome of Carlos' attempt to get an Amazon delivery on the island, in the hopes that there would be room for at least one person to leave the island on the return trip.

We even had a video of the event uploaded to YouTube, but it isn't there any more. Kim, our Korean crew member who actually grew up in Chicago, found an old videotape camera and started taping our adventures, with the notion of selling them to PBS if, er, once we get off the island. So we found out what time the delivery was expected and went to a portion of the jungle where the main plaza used to be. We invited Maria and her father to witness, though Emmanuel thought it would be too dangerous for the children to come out.

It might help if I gave you more of a picture - since you can no longer go to YouTube and see it for yourselves. We were standing near the top of a hill on a large section of pavers that is almost completely surrounded by twenty-foot high palm trees and some sort of giant fern I've never seen anywhere else.

A few minutes before the appointed time, we heard a beating of helicopter wings. Carlos said, "That makes sense. How else would they get something that large up here?"

I began to wonder if we should be moving back from the center of the plaza when a very large drone appeared, dangling a big rectangular, but shallow box by a rope. Saide tells me it was a quadrocopter, whatever that means.

Carlos' hopes for escape fell as the drone hovered over our location and slowly lengthened the rope holding its cargo until the box was safely on the ground. Then it triggered some sort of release and withdrew the rope without ever touching down. A moment later it was rising again.

That's when the interesting part happened. When the drone got about thirty feet into the air, a huge winged reptile grabbed it in its teeth and shook it violently. Maria gave a blood-curdling scream as the blades stopped spinning and we all heard a crunching sound.

A few moments later, we heard a crashing sound as the monster apparently decided that the drone wasn't worth eating and dropped it in a nearby copse of fern trees. Needless to say, we all ran back to our respective shelters.

While the rest of us were expressing fear and disappointment, Kim was jubilant. "I got it on tape!" he kept shouting. "This will go viral for sure." When he explained to me what "viral" means, I said, "Maybe it will let people know we are here, and someone will come to save us."

Saide said, "Oh, people are coming; that's certain. I just heard back from El Guapo. He hopes to arrive tomorrow, with a small army and lots of guns."

I said, "You will protect me, right?" and Saide said, "Right." But someone I don't think he meant "right" the same way I meant "right." Does that make sense?

At any rate, Kim and Saide figured out how to get the video of the giant winged reptile attacking the Amazon drone onto YouTube. I don't understand everything they were saying, but in just a few hours, they'd had something like 10,000 "views," and the number of views was growing faster than ever.

Then Warner Brothers informed YouTube that Maria's blood-curdling scream was just like a blood-curdling scream in one of their movies, and therefore was under copyright. YouTube took the video down.

In the meantime, Saide has figured out how to get cable television signals on Carlos' new flatscreen TV. Kim was excited because he wanted to watch the "Superbowl" on it. When he explained to me that it was a football game, I got excited, too. Then Carlos explained that it was "American football," which is a silly name for a game in which the ball is mostly thrown or carried.

However, TCM is planning on showing "Three Days of the Condor" tonight, and I want to see it again. Hopefully somebody in this crew can explain the plot to me this time.

Here's hoping that Saide means what he says about protecting me from El Guapo.

In the meantime, have a great day, all,

Your friend the Exiled Nigerian Prince.

[Name Withheld] writes:

Hello there!

I was doing some research for one of my sites and came across [web site name withheld]. I am impressed with its quality. Keep up the great work!

I am the owner of [domain name withheld], a content creation service that has written hundreds of thousands of articles for thousands of websites across the globe. I employ dozens of top shelf writers with decades of experience in dozens of subjects.

Because your site is obviously high quality, I wanted to make you an offer:

I would like to offer to have one of my top writers write an article for your site at NO COST to you. All I would ask is for a very brief "about the author" section with just one link in it to [domain name withheld], a high quality question and answer site that I'm working on promoting.

I am willing to do this because I know it's a win-win for us both -- you get high quality content for your site at no cost, and I get a quality link to my new site that helps it grow.

Here is an example of the kind of quality writing you can expect to receive. Though this article is in the gardening niche, my writers can work with virtually any subject matter:

[URL withheld]

The article will also come with images that I have the rights to and you can post in the article. We'll offer suggestions inside the article of where to place the images, but of course you're free to use them however you want (or not at all).

Again, because I'm working to get [domain name withheld] established, this would be at no cost and with absolutely no obligation to you. If you receive the article and decide it isn't a good fit, you're not obligated to post it to your website.

Whatever your decision, thanks for taking the time to read this. I appreciate it. If you have any feedback or questions, please feel free to tell me! I'd love to hear it.

Take care,

[name withheld]
admin@[flower-themed domain name withheld]

------------------------------------------------

Dear [name withheld];

If the core business you're describing is about writing original content for web developers, I am confused that you wrote me using an e-mail from what seems to be a gardening site but which I'm afraid to go to because it has no Internet "footprint" except for links from spam servers.

I'm also confused by your claim that you have researched the site in question. Why would you imagine that an established site that comes up on the first page of Google for most relevant terms and has over 600 professionally-written, detailed articles on relatively obscure subjects would need new articles thrown together by less qualified writers who do not know the subject matter inside and out?

With a little research of my own, I discovered that you have a reputation among fake SEOs and other scammers and spammers for developing software that simplifies large-scale plagiarism of other people's articles and comments, using synonyms and paraphrasing to reduce the chances of detection by plagiarism-detection engines. In fact, I have noticed that whenever I come up with a really clever new article, dozens of similar articles, with other people's names attached show up on the Internet within a few weeks. Thank you for drawing attention to your business model, because now I have a pretty good idea of who is to blame (or at least shares the blame) for hundreds of cases of plagiarism of MY material.

Since I wrote the above, I've been doing the math. I seldom sell articles to other publishers for less than $1000@, and I can easily identify over 230 articles that were apparently plagiarized from my pages, using the algorithms in your software. (There are another 400 or so I'm not sure about, so I won't press the point on those.) So, at the very minimum, I figure you owe me somewhere on the order of $230,000 for plagiarizing or helping others to plagiarize my materials. However, if you are willing to pay up now, I will be satisfied with a .20 on the dollar restitution, or $46,000.

If you'd prefer to pay in installments, I can arrange that. Simply go to the Exiled Nigerian Prince's contact page ( http://www.exilednigerianprince.com ) and enter the requested information about your bank account and routing code. Then I will ask the ENP to set up a monthly payment setup by which $1000 is automatically withdrawn from your account for the next 46 months.

It may take a few days to get things rolling, though, since the Prince is on a sort of wildlife safari at the moment, and is only able to access the internet for a few minutes each day when the satellite is overhead.

Oh, and I won't be needing any articles from anyone who has any sort of business relationship with you or your companies - I'd rather not get sued for plagiarism myself.

Dear Readers, due to another glitch, this message from the Prince was also redirected. I am posting it here to keep the sequence of posts correct.

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Paul,

Thank you so much for trying to keep my business affairs moving ahead while I'm in this bind. First I should probably tell you that I insisted that Kim, Carlos, Saide, and Jean-Paul watch "Three Days of the Condor" with me last night, and they couldn't follow the plot either. Now I don't feel so bad about that. We all agreed that it was Faye Dunaway's best performance, though.

The next thing I should pass on is that El Guapo has landed. Kim tells me that he and his thugs arrived on a UH-1 helicopter, a "Huey" that was used for troop transport during the Viet Nam war. Apparently, the United States gave it to Cambodia to help in their "war on drugs," and it wound up in the hands of a cartel a few weeks later. It's not a huge concern at the moment, though, for reasons I'll explain momentarily.

We all watched what happened next through the monster-proof windows in the computer lab. El Guapo followed his mercenaries out of the Huey, though two gunners stayed aboard and the pilot stayed at the controls and kept the engines running.

A moment later, we saw the mercenaries scattering. Then we saw what had startled them. Something as tall as a three-story house, covered with scales, and with six-foot-long teeth suddenly came into view. It grabbed the two slowest mercenaries at once, gave a single bite, then swallowed them whole.

El Guapo signaled to the gunners in the Huey, and they started unloading on the thing. That only seemed to make the monster angry, though and he kicked at the Huey with one huge, taloned foot. The blow spun the Huey around about 180 degrees, but the pilot recovered quickly, and started to raise the thing out of the monster's reach.

El Guapo kept his head and signaled for one of the mercenaries to load the shoulder-fired missile-launcher. That was when the entire landing party learned that, given the choice between a cold-blooded monster and an operating Huey helicopter, a heat-seeking missile will prefer the helicopter.

On the bright, side, the explosion did startle the monster, and it went back into the jungle. Now El Guapo is stranded on the island along with us, and - if we counted correctly, about eight surviving mercenaries. Carlos shook his head sadly and said, "Island Seven, Latinos Zero. This might be some kind of record."

El Guapo then began threatening to use another missile to destroy the building we're hiding in, so Carlos, Kim, Saide, and Jean-Paul and I took a vote on whether or not we should turn me over to El Guapo. To my disappointment, the vote was 4 to 1. I said, "Saide, you said you'd protect me." And Saide said, "Right." Then he turned to the others and said "grab him."

But I haven't been a fugitive for all these months for nothing. Unknown to the others, I had preemptively unlocked the door that led back into the tunnels. I bolted for that door, slammed it, and locked it from my side. Then I ran wildly through the maze of tunnels for about an hour until I came upon a remote underground control center. I've barricaded myself in here and figured out how to turn on one of the computers and get it onto the internet. Again, I can only get on when the satellite is directly overhead, but at least I can stay in contact.

As far as I know, El Guapo knows nothing about Maria's family, and I hope things stay that way. After I've had a rest, I may try to see if I can find their bunker through the tunnels.

Also, if you understand the plot of "Three Days of the Condor," could YOU explain it to me?

Your friend, the Exiled Nigerian Prince.

Dear readers,

I must sadly announce that I will no longer be making fun of a certain media corporation that has knowingly bullied restaurants, playwrights, theaters, and other media companies out of many millions of dollars of royalties they didn't deserve for a song that has been in public domain since 1922, using the argument that it was once used in a movie they own the rights to, therefore they owned the copyright on it.

As it turns out, one of their movies has a character who makes snarky remarks about greedy movie studio execs, so they consider all snarky comments about greedy movie studio execs to be covered under their copyright.

We now return you to our adventure.

Prince,

Regarding "Three Days of the Condor,"

As I understand it, the Robert Redford character is technically a CIA agent, but once he got through his training, he spent the next year or three at a desk, which suits him just fine. His job is scanning books into the computer and looking for information his bosses might find useful, such as dirty tricks or potential conspiracies. He is also what we would call a "technogeek" today, but in those days of rotary phones, etc., he uses alligator clips and other tools that would be considered primitive today.

Spoiler alert: During his reviews of obscure books, he discovers one that seems suspicious and sends a report to his supervisor. His supervisor forwards it to the central office for them to review. Unbeknownst to Robert Redford and his supervisor, one of the committee that sees the report is actually behind a conspiracy that involves the book. To keep his conspiracy from being exposed, he hires a European hit team to take out Redford's entire office.

We learn all of this in retrospect, as the movie plays out and the Robert Redford character figures it out. All we know at the beginning is that Redford's character takes a back door out of the building on a snack run, so the hit team doesn't realize he's not there [Spoiler alert] until after they've killed everyone left in the office. Redford returns with the snacks to discover the station in disarray and bodies everywhere. He doesn't stick around.

When Redford calls the panic number he is supposed to use, he gets nervous about how many questions they're asking and begins to realize [spoiler alert] that he may very well be talking to the people who ordered the hit on his station. Instead of going to the extraction point, Redford carjacks Fay Dunaway (I know, what are the chances?) and hides out in her apartment, tying her to the toilet when he has to leave for some reason. Except for a few shouting matches, this doesn't seem to permanently harm their relationship.

The botched coverup leads to another botched coverup, in which [spoiler alert] a CIA contact that Redford knows is used to "bring him in," but instead, the "contact" is murdered and the murder is pinned on Redford.

After that, things get complicated.

Does that help?

How are things with you?

Your friend Paul