That doesn’t seem so bad. Who doesn’t want to narrow down search? The problem is that number of indexed pages is not only difference with search engine typos; poor search engines are trying to find most relevant pages they can to misspelled search, but it may not find what you need. On one hand, you have tens of millions of relevant pages with a correct search; on other hand, you have hundreds of thousands of semi-relevant pages. Which would you rather have?

Search engine typos are very common, but they do alter relevance of your results.

Joe Miller is an author of informational articles and online advertisements on business, technology, and health. “Web content management system fr window” is actually “web content management system for windows”.

When trouble comes it does so in pairs. For phishing mail—like Bonnie and Clyde—don't operate alone. It also has an even more deceptive collaborator. Its name pharming. Or website fake. And this is rife—there may be 10 or more falsies for every genuine website.

The modus operendi of spammers are becoming nastier by day. I know of some phishing mails which compromise your email box when you open them. Some pharming techniques are know to target web browsers like Microsoft's Internet Explorer. The purpose, redirection. So when you type a URL of an authentic website, say, www.aol.com, it takes you not to American Online but to bogus website. And be preyed upon. Cyberspace is not nirvana you thought it was.

Because "Dragons" so says one writer "live there." And dragons—a dishonest few with criminal intent—are out to get us. But while we wait for Saint George or a group of dragon slayers to deliver us from this menace, I have a siesta. And I dream. And in my dream I find myself teleported into role playing game Dungeons and Dragons, and chased by goblins, wizards and warlocks.

And I flee into a nearby tower and bolt its immense door. My adversaries are outside, thirsty for my blood. I climb its stairs to top. I peer down. I see them produce, a battering ram. . . .Suddenly I awake to sharp raps on my door. I start. Could it be Interpol come to take me away? My fear returns with a vengeance. I hear a voice. And heave a sigh of relief. It was not cops after all. But a friend.

Val .K. is a poet, and a nature lover. A collection of his poems "Without a Name" will soon be published by AuthorHouse, U.S.A. For personal contact, send mails to: leviathandepthsreturns@yahoo.com