Today’s Tirade: Captcha

Angry Person

In one of my now-defunct photography galleries, Art Share, which had always allowed posting comments by anyone about the various photos on display, I had to switch off that capability and only allow responses by registered users to eliminate the messages from “spam bots.”

Before my antediluvian Web server’s ultimate demise, necessary, upgraded, programs were nonexistent in the operating system to implement Captcha, those crazy, unreadable letters and numbers one is asked to type in before posting a comment on someone’s blog or Website, ensuring the poster is “human.”

The purpose is to prevent those unwanted, nasty, little spam nits from being able to spread their useless garble and commercial links for whatever they’re selling. I’m sure you’ve seen the result of spammer-bots in action, evident at various locations that allow unregistered comments: words bunched together in sentences, making no sense at all; yet a URL is presented, hawking Viagra, the latest athletic shoes, or porn sites, etc. Does anyone ever click on them anyway?

Why is it, I’m never able to make out those crazy, warped characters and end up having to refresh the set of them many times over before finally being able to post my comment?

Take for instance, today. I went to a twitter friend’s blog to read his latest entry about Memorial Day, at http://gen22y.blogspot.com/, which had a powerful message. Upon attempting to voice my recognition of a post well-said, the following Captcha appeared with which to confirm my mortality:

I could read the first term, but the second one made no sense, so I typed what’s seen above, clicked, and was told, “Sorry, no cigar. Try again.” Meanwhile, I had lost all my comments entered previously, sent presumably to Internet Limbo, where all lost characters seemed to end up. After starting over, this is what confronted me:

Yikes, that one was worse than the first. I quickly refreshed the display and got:

Dagnabbit, by now my blood was beginning to boil and my hands were starting to shake. Click went the mouse again on the blasted refresh button, only to get this:

Tremendous billows of steam were bellowing now from my ears, nostrils and mouth like my brain was categorically vaporizing. The sound of a blasting ship’s whistle went off in my head as I regenerated the codes relentlessly until I was able to read it:

Aha, that one worked. If at first you don’t succeed, pound the hell out of your mouse until you do! All kidding aside, click on Gene’s link up in the second paragraph of this tirade. His message was a strong one, denoting where our priorities should mainly be during the upcoming holiday weekend.

Cheers, all.

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About Mike Slickster

As an early retiree with an honorary doctorate degree from the proverbial "School of Hard Knocks," this upcoming author with a lot of free time on his hands utilizes his expansive repertoire for humorous yet tragic, wildly creative writing that contains years of imaginative fantasy, pure nonsense, classic slapstick, extreme happiness and searing heartbreak; gathered by a wealth of personal experiences throughout his thrilling—sometimes mundane or unusually horrid—free-spirited, rock-'n'-roller-coaster ride around our beloved Planet Earth. Mike Slickster's illustrious quest continues, living now in Act Three of his present incarnation, quite a bit on the cutting edge of profundity and philosophical merriment as seen through his colorful characters, most notably evident in the amusing Thirty Days Across the Big Pond series, all of which can be found at Lulu.com.
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3 Responses to Today’s Tirade: Captcha

  1. Anonymous says:

    I hate those things too but you need to chill.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Thanks for writing such a intruiguing article, I stumbled onto your blog and read a few articles. I like your style of writing?

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