More from this creator
Other episodes by Kitty Cat.
More like this
If you liked this, try these.
Transcript
The full episode, in writing.
August 5, 1996. Hundreds of messages start flooding Usenet—the sprawling, chaotic precursor to today’s internet forums. The posts make no sense. Each one is a string of disconnected, almost poetic words: “jitterbugging McKinley Abe break Newtonian inferring caw update Cohen air collaborate rue sportswriting rococo invocate tousle…” The subject line is always the same: Markovian Parallax Denigrate.
Even today, “Markovian Parallax Denigrate” is known as one of the internet’s oldest and weirdest mysteries. Kevin Morris, writing for The Daily Dot in 2012, referred to it as “the Internet’s oldest and weirdest mystery.” Popmech.ru called it “one of the first great mysteries of the Internet.” But what started as a bizarre wave of gibberish became a decades-long puzzle that has never been fully solved.
The original messages appeared on Usenet, a kind of digital bulletin board system launched in 1980 that let users post and reply to messages in newsgroups organized by topic. By the mid-1990s, Usenet was a global hub for everyone from hobbyist computer scientists to conspiracy theorists. The group alt.religion.christian.boston-church was one of the places where the “Markovian Parallax Denigrate” posts landed.
One post from August 5, 1996, comes from the address Susan_Lindauer AT WORF.UWSP.EDU, with the sender name Chris Brokerage. The body of the message reads as if a computer has been let loose with a dictionary: “jitterbugging McKinley Abe break Newtonian inferring caw update Cohen air collaborate rue sportswriting rococo invocate tousle shadflower Debby Stirling pathogenesis escritoire adventitious novo ITT most chairperson Dwight Hertzog different pinpoint dunk McKinley pendant firelight Uranus episodic medicine ditty craggy flogging variac brotherhood Webb impromptu file countenance inheritance cohesion refrigerate morphine napkin inland Janeiro nameable yearbook hark.” Another post, sent by Rob.Hotchkiss AT galactica.it using the name Myron Sterile, reads: “Sistine detestation shotgun hem burette you’d dendrite versatec plot homologue Godwin barbarism psychobiology perfuse macaque Serpens orthodox phycomycetes coadjutor scriven supreme Coriolanus whish minim protrude cardamom hyacinth wet shame habitant Somali bewitch intimal egghead nitrate.”
All the posts have either the subject line “Markovian parallax denigrate” or use those three words more frequently than any others in their message bodies, according to two different investigations—Atlas Obscura and ciphermysteries.com.
Within months, the posts stop. But their existence lingers in digital memory, and the mystery only grows. For over a decade, people try to figure out who sent these messages and why.
Early on, suspicion falls on “Susan Lindauer,” because her email address appears as the sender for one of the original posts. But in 2012, Kevin Morris tracks down the real Susan Lindauer. She denies having any involvement with the messages. It turns out her University of Wisconsin at Stevens Point email account was spoofed, probably as a way to hide the true sender’s identity.
Interest in the “Markovian Parallax Denigrate” mystery spikes again in the 2010s. In March 2020, Andrew Paul publishes a piece in The A.V. Club arguing that the phenomenon became a mystery only much later, after it was picked up by sites like The Daily Dot in 2012. Paul notes that YouTuber Barely Sociable created a contemporary video about the posts, suggesting they were probably just simple spam with no hidden meaning.
Some researchers have proposed that the posts were generated by an early experimental chatbot or text generator. The name “Markovian” is a direct reference to Markov chains, which are mathematical systems that transition from one state to another using certain probabilities. In text generation, a Markov chain can use the probability of one word following another to string together phrases or sentences. This technique is often used to create text that’s grammatically plausible but ultimately meaningless.
A Markov chain–based program in 1996 would have been cutting-edge for internet pranksters, hobbyist programmers, or anyone fascinated by artificial intelligence. In the mid-90s, chatbot technology was in its infancy. ELIZA, the famous psychotherapy chatbot, had existed since the 1960s, but most bots in the 1990s were primitive and rule-based. Generating hundreds of spam messages using Markov chains would have required a custom program and access to Usenet posting tools.
The choice of words in the posts hints at the mechanism behind them. Words like “pathogenesis,” “escritoire,” and “hyacinth” suggest a large dictionary or a dataset was used as a source. The posts don’t repeat phrases, but the structure—strings of unrelated nouns, verbs, and adjectives—matches what a Markov chain might produce if it had a large enough corpus.
Other theories say the posts were just spam. In the 1990s, Usenet was plagued by all sorts of low-level spam—ads for pyramid schemes, chain letters, or just random noise. “Markovian Parallax Denigrate” messages could have been early attempts at forum flooding, meant to annoy or confuse. Popmech.ru, in a 2017 piece by Alexander Privalov, described the event in the context of spam history, suggesting it ranks among the earliest internet spam campaigns.
There’s also the possibility that the posts were an elaborate prank or a piece of performance art. Usenet had long attracted trolls and creative weirdos. The posts could have been designed to get attention, to puzzle, or simply to waste readers’ time.
The event sits alongside other unsolved internet mysteries like Sad Satan, Cicada 3301, and the Publius Enigma. All of these are defined by cryptic messages, inscrutable clues, and layers of speculation that fuel online obsession.
“Markovian Parallax Denigrate” stands out because it predates most of these. The first posts appeared in 1996, the same year that Dolly the sheep was cloned and the Nintendo 64 was released in North America. At that time, less than 2% of the world’s population had internet access—a number equivalent to around 70 million people globally, which is smaller than the current population of Germany.
In the absence of modern moderation tools, it was easy for anyone to post anything, anywhere, often with little chance of being traced. Even the use of fake or spoofed email addresses was common for pranksters and those trying to avoid detection.
The sheer volume of “Markovian Parallax Denigrate” posts is noteworthy. Sources refer to “hundreds” of messages, making this more than just a one-off incident. That’s a scale that would require either automation or a lot of dedication from a human actor. Automation seems the most likely, especially given the content.
The three-word phrase itself—Markovian Parallax Denigrate—has no clear meaning. “Markovian” refers to processes related to Markov chains, as mentioned. “Parallax” is a term from astronomy and optics, describing how the position or direction of an object appears to differ when viewed from different positions. “Denigrate” means to criticize unfairly or attack the character of. The combination is cryptic, suggesting either randomness or deliberate obfuscation.
Markovian Parallax Denigrate’s infamy grew thanks to later media coverage. The Daily Dot’s 2012 article by Kevin Morris was a pivotal moment. Before that, the messages were little known outside of Usenet archives and digital folklore. The piece brought the story to a broader audience, framing it as a major unsolved mystery.
Online discussions about the posts have included attempts to decode them, search for hidden ciphers, or find patterns in the language. CipherMysteries.com, a site dedicated to unsolved codes and ciphers, looked into whether the phrase “Markovian Parallax Denigrate” appeared more in subject lines or message bodies, ultimately finding that the three words were frequent but not exclusive to the subject lines.
The mistaken identification of Susan Lindauer as the author led to online harassment and confusion. Her denial and the discovery that her account was spoofed is a reminder of how easy it was to fake digital identities in the 1990s. A University of Wisconsin at Stevens Point student with the same name had an email address used as a mask, but no evidence ever linked her to the actual posts.
The 2020 article in The A.V. Club by Andrew Paul argued that the mystery of Markovian Parallax Denigrate is largely a product of retrospective fascination—that it only became widely known as a “mystery” after being written about in the 2010s. Paul pointed out that the posts were “not widely reported prior to the 2012 Daily Dot article.” This means that for more than 15 years, the messages were just odd relics in obscure corners of Usenet archives.
YouTuber Barely Sociable’s investigation deemed the posts to be likely simple spam, not proof of a grand conspiracy or code. Even so, this hasn’t stopped internet sleuths from digging through old archives. The pursuit becomes less about solving the original mystery and more about the joy of chasing an enigma with no clear solution.
Atlas Obscura’s 2017 report by Eric Grundhauser cataloged the phenomenon as “the gibberish that sparked one of the Internet’s oldest unsolved mysteries.” Grundhauser included direct transcripts of the posts and documented the efforts of amateur codebreakers and internet historians.
Markovian Parallax Denigrate’s place in internet history is tied to its timing. It sits at a crossroads—after the birth of the web but before the mainstreaming of social media, before mass surveillance, before even Google indexed the internet. Its ambiguity reflects a time when digital anonymity was easier to achieve and online mysteries could persist for decades.
The posts themselves are archived in Google Groups, which preserves countless Usenet archives. Anyone can look them up today, reading the original gibberish exactly as it appeared in 1996. The raw and unfiltered nature of the text is part of its appeal—there are no signatures, no explanations, nothing but lines of words and a strange, haunting subject line.
Even though the scale of the posts was large—hundreds of messages—there is no evidence that anyone ever tried to claim responsibility. No follow-up posts, no explanations, and no confessions have ever surfaced. For comparison, many internet hoaxes or performance art projects eventually feature their creators stepping forward, often seeking recognition.
Cryptographers and puzzle enthusiasts have tried to apply code-breaking techniques to the messages. There’s no indication from any credible analysis that an actual code is hidden in the text. The words show no repeating patterns or structures that would suggest an underlying cipher—just the chaotic output typical of a Markov chain text generator.
Efforts to trace the origin of the posts using internet forensics have failed. Email spoofing in the 1990s left almost no trail, and Usenet’s decentralized infrastructure made tracking users extremely difficult. This technical limitation is one reason why so many early internet mysteries, including numbers stations and other strange digital broadcasts, remain unsolved.
The “Markovian Parallax Denigrate” story is often grouped with other famous ciphertexts, numbers stations, and modern internet mysteries like Webdriver Torso and Unfavorable Semicircle. Each of these involves cryptic messages delivered at scale, leaving audiences to wonder whether they are meaningless noise or signs of something deeper.
Some researchers have proposed the posts might have been intended as a test or demonstration—for example, a programmer experimenting with Markov chains and wanting to see how their output would play on a public forum. Posting to multiple newsgroups with different sender names could have been a way to observe interactions or simply to generate confusion.
Discussions on platforms like ciphermysteries.com have cataloged the different theories and tracked down the surviving posts. They note that while some sources claim all the posts shared the same subject line, others find the phrase appears more in the message bodies, suggesting some inconsistency in reports.
Usenet, the platform where all this occurred, was home to countless other strange phenomena—“vertical spam,” flame wars, and early forms of trolling. As a result, many longtime users saw Markovian Parallax Denigrate as one oddity among many, not recognizing its potential as a lasting mystery.
The use of obscure words in the messages—like “phycomycetes,” “escritoire,” and “coadjutor”—is unusual for spam, which tended to use simpler language or clear promotional content. The vocabulary seems hand-picked or randomly drawn from an academic or technical source.
Despite extensive efforts, no one has ever found a “smoking gun” document or file that reveals the program, script, or dataset used to generate the posts. This lack of technical evidence is part of what keeps the mystery alive.
The incident has become a frequent reference point in lists of internet mysteries. Caitlin Dewey, writing for The Washington Post in 2014, included it in “Five of the Internet’s eeriest, unsolved mysteries.” Wired.de’s Michael Förtsch featured it in a list of “Seven Unsolved Internet Mysteries” in 2016.
Markovian Parallax Denigrate’s digital footprint is limited to archives and a growing body of secondary commentary. There are no known sequels or copycat incidents that match its scale or style. Nothing quite like it happened again, despite the explosion of spam and trolling in subsequent years.
The posts have inspired creative speculation, including the idea that they might contain hidden messages for a secret society, or serve as a test for detecting bots. There’s no evidence for these claims, and most researchers now believe the posts are likely noise rather than signal.
On August 5, 1996, someone—or something—spammed the alt.religion.christian.boston-church newsgroup with a string of words that defy analysis. The subject line: Markovian Parallax Denigrate. No one has ever claimed responsibility. No one has ever cracked the code. The posts remain archived, and their true purpose—if any—remains unknown.