Earlier this week, Tampa TV station WTSP ran a story about a Virginia woman who began receiving emails from her mother — two years after her mother lost a protracted battle with scleroderma. The departed lady’s Yahoo account had been hacked, and her poor family has been tormented by spam originating from it ever since.
It’s happened before, usually via Facebook notifications reminding a user that he or she hasn’t been in touch with a certain deceased “friend” in a while. And various tech blogs and sites have touched on topics related to the online properties and profiles of the dearly departed.
Now, I am completely sympathetic toward that Virginia family. I wouldn’t exactly relish getting dong-enhancement ads and scammy mortgage offers from my dead mom’s email account, either. That’s the work of ghouls.
But this terrible tale has given me an idea how I can perpetuate my legacy, and spend the afterlife in much the same way some have claimed I squander my tenure on this plane of existence: wasting the time of others with occasionally clever but more often pointless and irritating outbursts.
I will become a digital ghost.