My email program, which touts itself as the best in the world, promises effective spam filtering, easy-to-organize mailing lists and hassle-free access from anywhere. It does all of that. And, like all other email programs, it randomly throws real email into the spam file.

It’s like hiring a moving company to get your furniture across town and finding out six months later that the box with your wedding pictures didn’t make the trip because the van driver threw it out on a whim. “Sorry. Who knew you’d want something like that?”

It’s only when you get an email from something that should have automatically been put in your spam file, like “worldsraunchiestsexvideos” or “tryviagrafree,” that you investigate. Sure enough, most of the stuff in the junk file will be junk — amazing junk, obvious junk.

You wonder who would respond to “Get prescriptions at half price” from A. Nonymous. How can he afford to do it? Because he makes the pills in his basement from sawdust, cornstarch and food coloring and there isn’t any real medicine in them, that’s how. And he passes the savings along to you, the soon-to-be-dead consumer. One of his big selling points is that he’s never had a complaint. How could he? All his customers are dead or in comas. Now there’s a business plan.