Ḩ̣̬̥O̘͈̙̞̳͠ͅM̧͚̻EG̳̱̳̦̩̕RO͖̼W͡N̯̝̮̝̦ ͝ DA͎̟̥͖̞̭̻N͈̠̣̭Ḓ̢̪͈͇ͅE̙̳͓͖̱͜L͙̠̠͕̲͘I͠O͠N̩̖̖̱͜S͎̦̜̟̘
Exhibition by David Stjernholm
Opening Saturday October 4th; 17:00-21:00
@Værelset, Matthæusgade 36, 3.tv
1666 Copenhagen V
Exhibition is open on Sundays (12-15) or by appointment.
Last day November 2nd.
Exhibition is open on Sundays (12-15) or by appointment.
Last day November 2nd.
I started getting a lot of these spam mails that tried to convince me to buy all sorts of pills, especially the kind that comes with the promise of penis enlargement. They all shared a similar header that sounded something like “BEST GÈNERÌƇ BÜY ĈIALIS (new line) Click on the Attachment Ƀellow” and then there was a link at the end. When I accidentally highlighted the content of one of these spam mails I discovered a hidden text between the letters carrying the actual message — all written in small white letters on white background. Fragments of prose, filled with joy, sadness and reoccurring names of different people and places.
One of these people held the name of Judith Bronte. A quick search let me to www.judithbronte.com — the homepage of an American romantic fiction writer Sarah Fall using the pen name Judith Bronte. Since 1998 Bronte has published a series of free online novels including titles such as Mountain Wild, Homegrown Dandelions, and Abigail's Journey. They all tell the story of religious Christian people struggling with temptations and forbidden love, while trying to cope with the pressures of modern society.
The spam mails in my inbox appear to have been produced by an algorithm sampling and rearranging small sequences of text from Judith Bronte’s public oeuvre. Googling the white text fragments hidden in the spam all directed me to the novels on her website.
Various rules and criteria determine what passes through a spam filter and what gets immediately trashed. The task is to determine whether the email contains a genuine inter-human interaction with real emotions or a computer generated advertisement. This is where Judith Bronte’s fiction comes in handy.
David Stjernholm, Værelset, Copenhagen