IN RECENT months we have often reported on so-called “Nigerian” scams (3 May), also known as “419” scams because they are illegal under Section 419 of the Nigerian penal code. The origin of these endeavours goes back a lot further than you might think. Conned, a history of scamming by James Morton and Hilary Bateson, tells how the greedy and gullible have been falling for much the same trick for more than 100 years. In 1905 a prisoner in a Spanish jail was mailing out letters asking for cash to retrieve impounded luggage containing details of a secret bank account in the UK.
We hadn’t realised that in China 419 scammers can expect the death penalty, nor that in the US there is a provision for claiming tax relief on money lost to scammers. For us, however, the book’s most interesting story is of a Brit who routinely responds to scammers by asking them to prove their identity by emailing back a photo of themselves holding a fish while balancing a loaf of bread on their head and wearing a sign round their neck saying “plonker”. For those who need a translation of this Britishism, that’s the equivalent of “drongo” in Australia and “bonehead” in the US.
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“This week’s award for self-contradiction goes to the TLCS global visa service, which sent Stephen Burt an email saying: “This email has been sent from donotreply@tlcs.co.uk. Please reply to this if you require any assistance”
MEANWHILE, Jim Palfreyman says that while the sum he was offered in a scam didn’t come close to the £100 trillion dangled in front of Alec Burnett by one Louisa Christopher (3 May), it was possibly more interestingly described: “This is to inform you that you have won a prize money of Nine Hundred and Two Thousand Great Britain Pounds (GBP 900,2000) for the 2008 New Year Prize Promotion which is Organized by Yahoo United Kingdom.”
FOLLOWING our story about the UK Advertising Standards Authority not accepting claims that hi-fi cables made from woven wires give a better sound (10 May), James McMillan tells us he is puzzled by the blurb for a “Digital Audio Optical Lead” sold by electronics store Maplin. An optical lead carries digital audio as light pulses from one piece of hi-fi equipment to another, and usually has plastic plug connectors at each end. boasts “24k gold plated connectors”. This, apparently, “gives a better connection”.
“I didn’t know gold was a good conductor of light,” McMillan observes. Nor did Feedback, so we went to Maplin’s to buy one of the leads and ask why putting some gold on a plastic plug that holds an optical fibre was a good thing. “Gold is better than silver,” we were told, leaving us as puzzled as McMillan.
Furthermore, Maplin’s website reassures anyone wanting to connect a lot of cables together that this isn’t a problem: “There is no loss with optical cables so there is no maximum length.” Although we were prepared to pay £15 for a 75-centimetre lead to scrutinise the gold connectors, we don’t feel able to buy a thousand of them to put this intriguing information to the test.
NOTING our report on Limbitin, a medicine that is “consumed orally through the mouth” (29 March), Glenn Brunson observes how easily this sort of redundancy can become embedded in our everyday language. He points to such expressions as “free gift” and “pre-planning” as examples that have become so common we don’t notice them any more.
Perhaps staff at Lewisham railway station in south-east London should take his message to heart. Elizabeth Brett tells us that major works are taking place there. The main forecourt has been fenced off, but a notice informs users that the station can be accessed via a “Pedestrian Walking Route”.
PRESUMABLY there are people out there for whom the title of a paper noticed by Mike Wade is a model of simplicity and clarity. We can only say: hats off to them! For ourselves, the wording of “Chronomics, neuroendocrine feedsidewards and the recording and consulting of nowcasts – forecasts of geomagnetics” (Biomedicine and Pharmacotherapy, vol 59, p 24) is pretty opaque.
WHY did the owner of an Ohio pet-supply company plop down $960 to buy a lump of 130-million-year-old dinosaur dung at an auction in New York in April?
“Poop is a big business in the pet industry,” said Steve Tsengas, owner of OurPets, which makes bags for collecting dog waste and a self-cleaning cat litter tray.
Palaeontologists call lumps of fossil dung “coprolites”, and study them to learn what animals ate. But Tsengas is simply going to show off his new acquisition at trade shows and use it in unspecified ways to motivate his employees. Perhaps he intends to challenge them to develop a poop scoop fit for cleaning up after a dinosaur.
FINALLY, written on the packet of guitar strings Tom Sharp bought were the words: “Rotosound strings are manufactured in England and are subject to finite quality control.”
This is fortunate, Sharp observes, “as otherwise they would never leave the factory”.
