The passed few days on my personal site, I’ve been posting some rather strange work emails that are filled with excerpts from obscure American literature. Then I said to myself, “Self, you kinda work on a show that talks about literature all the time! Maybe you should post these there.” And so I will.

Today I got another. It’s from Vela (enablers@symparkett.sk; “.sk”? Where the heck is that?), with the subject line: e ch. I was able to find its contents in this Project Gutenberg Ebook of The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 86, December, 1864 with various authors:

was better to hear him than the minister: and verily he did put time-serving to shame by the distinct integrity of his warm speech, and his eloquence of action. Dexter married Jessie the day before he opened his flag-shop. She had long been employed by his employer, and when she promised to be his, she drew her earnings from the bank, and invested all with him. This was not prudence, certainly, but it was love. Dexter might have failed in business the first year,–might have died, you know, in six months, or even in three, as men do sometimes. It was not prudence; but Jessie–young
lady determined on settlements!–Jessie was looking for life and prosperity, as the honest and earnest and young have a right to look in a world God created and governs. And if failure and death had in fact choked the path that promised so fair, clear of regret, free of reproaches, glad even of the losses that proved how love had once blessed her, she would have buried the dead, and worked for the retrieval of fortune. They began their housekeeping-romance back of the shop in two little rooms. Do you require the actual measurement? There have been wider walls that could contain greatly less. “How big was Alexander, pa? The people called him _great_.” They considered the sixpences of their outlay and income with a purpose an

And that’s all. These spambots never give us more than than just a taste of their infinite knowledge. I have this inkling that all of these emails are actually puzzle pieces in a grand scavenger hunt that I don’t even know I’m apart of yet. We’ll see about that, though.