Goodbye

I had a really funny update written. It was regarding whether or not I really had a baby named "Darth." I didn't. The joke was that I claimed to, and finally showed my "baby" pictures. What the photos actually were were pictures of "Stripe" from the movie "Gremlins." After showing the pictures, I said I had some sad news to report. "It wasn't until we took Darth on his first walk outside that we realized he couldn't be exposed to sunlight. He melted." The copyright was something about monkeys flying out of my ass.

The update actually made me laugh aloud at my own writing (which is something I rarely do). I thought it was the best in a long time. Too bad it will never be seen.

It wasn't Darth who melted, it was me.

If you're reading this, I'm no longer living.

I asked a friend to upload my newest update for me if I wasn't home when he got here at 3 PM. Once confident that he would, I went outside and put a gun in my mouth. "Guns are for my own protection," says the NRA. Oh well, no one ever accused them of being honest.

Why did I do it? It's hard to say. I know what triggered (excuse the badly chosen word) it. A list-serve called "SPAM-L." I found out that they were badmouthing my site, posting my address and telephone number, threatening to hit me over the head with "the business side of a claw hammer."

Why?

All because I wrote an update stating how "SPAM" could potentially be used for good. With all the real problems we're facing in the world today, I think this obsession people have with punishing "SPAMMERS" is insane. These fanatics make it the focus of their life to destroy SPAMMERS. Even those who (in the most recent example) are sending out a "SPAM" to invite people to a free multi-media presentation with survivors of the holocaust.

Even if the message is good, they say - "SPAM" is bad.

I dealt with these people for the last couple weeks of my life. I received over one-THOUSAND emails from them. Some were forwarded SPAMS, trying to show me how it feels. Others were extremely derogatory comments directed toward me for no other reason than to hurt me. All because of one little update.

I was reported to my Internet Provider simply for writing an article in support of SPAM. Not for SPAMMING, just for writing the article. I was prank called. I received a huge letter in the mail explaining why "SPAM" is "the Devil."

With every email I received, I realized more and more how the majority of people are out for a vengeance. They are not here to help other people, they are here to help themselves. When I posted my 50 reasons you don't have time to worry about being spammed article to their group, it was completely ignored. Things such as world starvation and incurable diseases didn't even phase them. They were only determined to "stop" the SPAMMERS.

I would like to leave everyone with my 50 reasons you don't have time to worry about being spammed article. Call it my Epitaph, if you will.

I hope you will all read it and actually think about what it is saying. I hope that I can leave this world thinking that maybe tomorrow it will be a better place than it is today. I hope I can leave this world believing something will happen for the best.

Please don't ever let anyone wreck your dreams. Don't let them ruin your ideologies. Don't get caught up in hating something so much you want to do nothing but destroy it.

This is what happened in the Salem Witch Trials. This is what happened with the Hollywood Blacklist. This is what is happening with those who have come to despise "SPAM" so much they do not even think of a "SPAMMER" as a human individual with his or her own thoughts and feelings.

If anything, at least learn to use your fucking delete key and leave everyone else the hell alone.

Thanks for your time.

The Juicy Cerebellum will live on. I have left 3 completed updates and 2 rough drafts that my best friend is going to post for me. There is also the rest of my grandpa's letters home from the war. After that, he is going to do the writing on this page. He's wanted to help with the page, and now he has his chance. It is his page. I don't know when he will post my final updates, or his first update, but I have been promised that if I ever "go," he will guarantee that The Juicy Cerebellum stays Juicy for a long time to come.

Some of you may like his version of The Juicy Cerebellum better, some of you may like it worse. Hopefully most of you will find it just right.

I'm so sorry I couldn't write something more eloquent or profound before leaving all of you. Those of you that helped me out with graphics, sent me encouraging emails, or were just friends . . . I thought the world of you. Thanks for helping a sad man smile.

Love,

Alex
9/22/98
2:22 PM

*A note from Shawn: My name is Shawn Jessup. I am the writer Alex mentioned above. Although Alex instructed me to leave his note as is, I feel obligated to tell the truth as it happened. Alex did pass away early this afternoon, but it was not due to a gun in his mouth. He was never that weak. He never would have been that weak. He was a fighter and no matter how many times he lost the fight he just kept getting back up again.

Alex passed away due to a long pattern of seizures which began approximately 48 hours ago. Unfortunately, at the same time these seizures began, a group called "SPAM-L" began attacking my friend, causing him unnecessary stress which I believe played a part in his fatal seizure. Using a borrowed laptop computer, Alex wrote defending himself against the "SPAM-L" group from the hospital, proving what a fighter he was. As a "final middle-finger gesture," he decided to write this suicide note in the event of his death. "Maybe they'll realize how destructive their actions really are, when reading this note" he said to me as he handed it over.

It is typical of Alex to leave this world with a "joke" such as the one above. It is typical of him to find humor even in dying. It is typical of him to carry on the battle. He has left us with plenty of writing that I will put online as he requested. I owe him that much. He is my best friend. I will miss him dearly.

Shawn