What happens when security devices are insecure? Choose the nuclear option It's important – and responsible – to use adequate protection. My own helmet, for example, is wrapped in tin foil. I have done this on doctor's advice. Well, indirectly anyway. I was feeling a little under the weather and booked to see my GP. Naturally, by the time my appointment came around three weeks later I was feeling …
Very amusing Mr Dabb's, you've obviously been too busy to watch much TV recently or you would have seen Her Majesties Government's latest advice on cyber security. Keep your systems patched and all apps up to date recommend HMG.
This advice will royally confuse any non technical users of Android phones which are older than 6 months. If only they had the power to pass some kind of law to enforce manufacturers and network providers to update device software for a reasonable period after purchase. I don't know they could call it a 'law' or 'legislation'.
they'll be asking us never ever to register our personal details or credit card numbers with pornography suppliers next (oops did I get that the wrong way round).
I predict the next huge consumer data issue will be from users of 'free' VPN services trying to avoid the smut registration process.
I could suggest that this was imposed at the network endpoint by the ISP or phone providers, I distinctly remember having to opt in to see adult content a number of years afo, but to be fair I had to opt in to even let my 7 year old daughter research her history homework as some of the sites she needed to look at were classed as adult.
> Indeed, the French government and businesses very effectively keep the populous safe and the enemy at bay with a a wall of incoherent, hideous and thoroughly impenetrable user interfaces that make MySpace look like the Louvre.
That and they're in French.
<Ba dum, tish>
PS: This would have been a better song to end on.
The only one I ever used was the one to fill my income tax information, which reproduce the 40 fields of the actual paper forms of old, of which 3 were relevant to me. On one hand, since doing it online is mandatory since a few year, having a design similar to the paper might help those more computer-challenged, but still, they should have enough information to hide some of the fields.
"... personal data, there's absolutely nothing I can do to stop other people who have legitimate access to it from cocking it up."
A recent trip to Boots opticians proved confusing and amusing. They confirmed my name, date of birth and address and the optician said he'd start my eye test based upon my last prescription. I couldn't even read the first big letter on the top of the chart! Considering I can almost read to the bottom without spectacles it was evident something was amiss. After some considerable time trying to tweak this badly out of focus prescription, it transpired that they had somehow merged my records with those of a random stranger. So back to square one and they needed to create a new record for both me and the other mystery person. They had to take more photos of my retina as the ones they'd taken twenty minutes earlier were held against the now defunct records. Methinks the Boots optician stabbing away at the computer keyboard with one finger should have gone to specsavers.
My optician is not part of a chain, knows all his customers individually so would never mix them up, and, when he referred me to a consultant, said consultant told me he only needed a very brief look to confirm the very thorough detective work done by the optician.
tl;dr if you can, avoid chains.
I certainly won't be going to Boots opticians again. I was in there for two hours while they faffed around having to repeat tests. The optician was in denial initially that their records could be wrong. He suggested that there must be someone else who coincidentally had the same name and date of birth who just happened to live at my previous address. To me it was evident they'd merged my records with someone else's. Oddly I take almost the same medications as the other mystery person. Finally he comparing my current retina scan against "my" previous retina scan before he was finally convinced that they were in fact of two different people due to the different layout of the arteries etc! He ended up analysing my current spectacles to get an accurate starting point for his eye tests.
In the interests of fairness, I should tell you that the best optician I have ever had was and still is a Boots employee. She diagnosed the rare genetic condition that manifested itself in my early 40s (map dot fingerprint dystrophy) and referred me to an eye surgeon for confirmation. Since then the only time I have allowed my routine examinations to be by another optician was when she asked me to allow a final year trainee to do it under her supervision, because my condition is usually only seen in textbooks, and she assured me that he was technically excellent - which he was.
The worst optician I have had was in an Asda concession - he couldn't even tell that I need prism correction, despite using one of my current pairs of glasses as a starting point. Needless to say I binned his prescription. My advice - have 2 or 3 eye tests and compare the results if you're not confident of your current optician/prescription.
This record merging happened to my mother in Clarks a few years back. An in-store order for shoes got sent out to someone else and chasing them up revealed a mash-up of customer data in their computer and some mild denial from the staff ("are you sure this isn't your address?", "I don't know what to say, we sent the shoes out already").
Anyway, three months of hassle later she did get a free pair of shoes but some mystery woman somewhere out there now knows my mother's shoe size - including the width - which would presumably be a serious GDPR breach if it happened more recently.
"are you sure this isn't your address?"
It's blind assumption that anything coming up on the screen must be right.
I had something similar with a life insurance company. They must have entered DoBs all numerically, swapped day and month and the numpty on the other end of the phone insisted that I'd survived a couple of decades of marriage not knowing SWMBO's correct birthday.
It's blind assumption that anything coming up on the screen must be right.
Working at DEC you get a badge with your employee number, and I was to get a freshly-issued one when I transferred to a different department. The first thing I note is that the employee number is wrong; it has two digits transposed. However, the security bozo handing out those things was adamant it was the right number.
"Do you really think that the number ABCDEF that I've been assigned, and used for over the past six years is the wrong one, and the number ACBDEF that happens to be on your screen and on this freshly-made badge is correct?".
"It says ACBDEF on this list, so yes."
"Well, you can wipe your arse with that list because it is wrong. This <showing well-worn badge> is my badge, and that one <pointing at new one on desk> is not. Go poke HR to send out a new list, and let me know when you have a badge with the number ABCDEF for me to collect. In the meantime I'll be wearing this old one even though it's not for this department. Good morning."
I just "love" it when my GP tells me it's time for me to get my eyes checked. I snicker "What for? I'm still blind." He huffs & tells me it's so they can check for diabetes retinopathy. "You don't have to check for that. I'm. Blind. Not merely legally so but completely so. There's no point in checking for eye damage, I can tell you without hesitation They Don't Fekkin' Work!" He insists, makes the optical appointment for me & snorts smugly. I go to the appointment on the arm of my Sighted Helper, Navigation Cane in my other hand, "blind shades" on my eyes, & check in. The lady at the counter asks if this is a joke. "Nope. I am totally blind & my GP refused to THINK about things before he forced me to keep this appointment. Feel free to kick his ass if you like. Give an extra one from me Please." She coughs, laughs, & has me sit in the proper chair. The optical doc comes in, takes one look, & asks dryly "Let me guess. Your GP is a moron?" YES! Yes he is! "Can you see *anything*?" Nope. "I'll make that fact *perfectly* clear in your file, Sir. Thank you for keeping your appointment, now be off & have a nice day." I thank him, leave, & my GP calls me a few days later for a follow up. Evidently the optical doc put in diplomatic terms "Your GP is a fucking moron" into my file & my GP wanted to whinge. I let him say his peace & asked him if he learned anything from this. "Yeah, never send my patients to that quack!"
*FacePalm*
I'd change GP but my insurance reps are even more blind than I am. =-\
Playing devil's advocate, maybe the eye test was for checking for other things (you mentioned diabeties retinopathy).I remember some years ago reading about an optician watching TV and noticed that one of the actors had something screwy with his eye that was a symptom of a heart condition.
Playing devil's devil's adovcate - your GP is still an idiot, if that was the case then he should have explained it better
Wouldn't go to Specsavers, they cocked up my prescription so badly it gave me double vision. I rejected them right there and then in the shop. I complained, went into see their head optician in the store, whose opening gambit was "we'll take the wrong prescription and tweak it" he then became irate when I made it very clear that wasn't acceptable in anyway shape or form. Ergo I walked out and have never returned.
I use a local independent who are very good and who unlike every other optician I've ever been to "if you can get by without glasses then do so" and don;t say "if you get a headache from the new glasses, then you just need to get used to them" - something that every other optician including specsavers trotted out.
Frankly opticians shouldn't be allowed to sell glasses, its as bad as mot testers being able to quote for repairs (and similarly open to abuse and criminal behaviour)
I understand that these government pamphlets were designed to give people something to do while they waited to die, rather than mill aimlessly in the street or just out and out panic. (also see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/When_the_Wind_Blows_%281986_film%29)
... and never quite got round to signing up to save humanity."
Since an interest in potential mating opportunities is in fact the *traditional* way of ensuring the continuance of humanity, there's no reason to feel bad about not signing up. :-)
I remember our disaster drills back in the day of "Duck & Cover". I always laughed in derrision & just went along with it to humour the teachers. When asked why I wasn't taking this stuff more seriously I simply pointed out that we were less than a mile from a military base on the Strategic Air Command (SAC) "we'll be one of the first targets" list. We were less than 100 miles from the main SAC airbase that would get *multiple* missile strikes, & that there were enough strategic civilian & military targets of opportunity in the area. "When the dust settles & the survivors scuttle from the rubble, the cockroaches will feast on our corpses. This area will be a glowing crater for the next million years or so. ''Duck & Cover'' won't do a damned thing." They called me a rather cynical little brat. I told them to stop drinking the government KoolAid & thinking a few meters of dirt/stone over your head would do a damn thing to protect you from the number of nuclear tipped weapons sure to fall on us like so many fists of god.
And people wonder why I distrust my government? I may be physically blind but even I can "see" the problems inherent in what my government tries to make me believe. =-|
That fits in perfectly with my experience "back in the day" including the proximity to SAC bases. My response "you gotta' be shitting me" got me in trouble but my dad had a good laugh over it. One of my mates said "you guys go bury heads, I'm headed outside to watch the fireworks" during the drill. We both ended up sitting outside the principle's office for due punishment. Funny, we had sit there until the drill was over then not a word said except "go back to your classroom".
Exactly! I get sent to the office, principal tells me he'll speak to my father, then sends me back to class. Me worried? Not a bit.
My father was in the AirForce doing a job that had him hopping from one SAC base to another like a frog on a hot plate. His advice if the warning klaxons ever cranked up was "Kiss it goodbye & enjoy the fireworks!" was exactly what he told the school when they called.
<Whingey beurocrat>But how can you SAY that? Don't you love your child?</whingey bastard>
My father said (and I loved this) "If you think sticking your head up your ass will protect you one bit then have fun inhaling shit, just don't try convincing my son that joining you will do any fucking good."
Strangely enough I didn't get any more crap from my school after that. Perhaps they figured this "bad apple" hadn't fallen far from the tree. Oh WOE is ME! XD Hahahaha...
My family lived in Roswell, New Mexico, many years ago, adjacent to the Walker SAC base (long since shut-down). At the local elementary school we were made to practice "duck and cover" by filing into the interior hallways and sitting, facing the walls, hunched over with arms covering the head. For some reason it was thought that we needed to practice this rather often, at least until That Day when, just as everyone was settling into place, a B-58 Hustler (yes, it was that long ago) from the airbase went supersonic over the school. Nobody knew if it was intentional or not--personally I never thought so but you never can tell with Air Force pilots. The school declared a half-day and we all went home.
Aibo might actually be a step backward.
Ever since I watched cctv cameras to pay my way through university I've been arguing the need to include organic dogs in electronic security systems. If the dog spots something and runs off to look at it, bark at it, screw it, eat it or flee in terror from it, the camera ought to at least look and see what it is. Might even get a nature documentary out of it.
A dog can surely be trained to run to a specific spot if it identifies an unfamiliar car stopping outside.
And believe me when I tell you that an electronic security system can easily be triggered by a dog standing in a particular place. That can then use an integrated mobile phone if that's what you've set it to do.
Redrum the Attack Chihuahua would have to be restrained from attempting to kill and eat it, usually by his BBF, Baroness Margaret Hilda the wolf, who is much more sensible and less likely to try to remove body parts. Though more likely to succeed, if you annoy her enough. Redrum thinks that he’s a wolf, and has a serious Napoleon complex. The Baroness knows that she’s a wolf and can eat any hairless monkey who dares to intrude on _her_ territory, if and when she wants to, no need to rush.
I recall that a friend brought a copy to a party, shortly after it was released, and helpfully read out informative passages for our education and amusement. I can still hear him drunkenly declaim:
Fallout is invisible. If you cannot see anything you may be suffering from fallout!
Ah! The Good Old Days. Those who remember "Protect and Survive" might also remember the graphic novel "Where the Wind Blows" by Raymond Briggs. There's a Wikipedia article about this but to give you some of the flavor it tells the story of an older couple who grew up in WW2 (remember, this ts the 80s) so were used to Government advice who used it to build their fallout shelter. They follow the advice in "Protect and Survive" and, well, they don't. They escape the direct effects of a nuclear attack but the fallout gets them. It takes a week or two.
Its quaint now but don't let your guard down -- the Cold Warriors and Strangeloves of this world are forever lurking waiting their chance to arm up (to quote the old song...."there's money to be made supplying the army's tools of trade"). You'll just be 'collateral damage' -- remember the real Civil Defence strategy back then had the government and assorted lackeys lurking under Box Hill with the rest of us bottled up in our cities -- "ducks, for the sitting of".
The (atomic, not thermonuclear) bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki were mere party poppers compared to a cold war MIRV.
Little Boy: 15kt blast yield
Fat Man: 21kt blast yield
A modern Trident 2 SLBM (and thus by no means as big as a cold war era ICBM or one of the huge >5Mt bombs) payload might be 8x475kt MIRV warheads
Some chap thoughtfully put together a map which'll give you a nice informative overlay of what you could have expected if the cold war were to become hot or if you'd like to plan your own apocalypse
https://nuclearsecrecy.com/nukemap/
Chernobyl wasn't a nuclear explosion, t'was a steam explosion that ruptured the reactor (no containment vessel), spreading the insides of the reactor far and wide (mostly through fire) so there was no real "blast" but plenty of poisonous crap thrown over the surrounding area (and of a different class of stuff compared to warhead fallout).
And there are certainly other ways the plot could go, but most of them are similarly depressing, just in different ways. Nuclear explosions are not fun, so your options are:
1. Be vaporized at the center of an explosion
2. Die in the destruction that is far enough away from the center that you weren't vaporized
3. Die in the fires spreading from the destruction outward because a lot of stuff burns
4. Die from fallout which can be blown by winds nearly anywhere
5. Miraculously find a shelter strong enough to withstand the fallout without poisoning you, and die inside for lack of provisions, extreme heat, etc.
6. Miraculously find a shelter strong enough to withstand the fallout without poisoning you, but open it too soon and die of fallout anyway
7. Miraculously find a shelter strong enough to withstand the fallout without poisoning you, and have a load of fun finding a safe place to go when you eventually come out
Let's just agree not to drop any nuclear weapons. Everyone on board with that?
5. Miraculously find a shelter strong enough to withstand the fallout without poisoning you, and die inside for lack of provisions, extreme heat, etc.6. Miraculously find a shelter strong enough to withstand the fallout without poisoning you, but open it too soon and die of fallout anyway
7. Miraculously find a shelter strong enough to withstand the fallout without poisoning you, and have a load of fun finding a safe place to go when you eventually come out
This passage reminded me of a guided tour I took of a nuclear bunker in central Berlin (west IIRC); ingress air-lock with gunports and a "strip naked here" decontamination shower for the cognoscenti lucky enough to know about it, be allowed access and to get there in time; tiny chicken-wire bunk beds stacked floor to ceiling; no doors on the toilets/showers so there'd be nowhere private where people might be tempted to commit suicide; an expectation that people would sleep >20 hours a day because air quality would be so bad that people would be barely capable of functioning; two weeks' worth of food and water for the "lucky" people inside.
(I can't remember the name of the museum the tour was attached to nor the name of the bunker but if any of you are in Berlin I can't recommend it highly enough)
We were shown the Protect and Survive video at school in the early 80s. Then we were shown some videos of atomic bomb tests. In one, a building which was within about a mile of the blast, was blown away as if it was a small pile of sand. The teacher, being slightly cynical in nature, made the comment: "notice the doors propped up against the tables".
I worked on job around that time helping to construct a fallout shelter by burying two 40' containers in a bloody great hole and covering them with about five feet of concrete.
The client spent a fortune kitting them out, it seemed unsporting to point out that there were two large underground ordnance stores in the vicinity that the Russians were almost certainly aware of, so his shelter was in a probable multiple hit target zone.
I did some volunteer work in my distant youth, more with the intent of putting something distinctive on my CV than on improving the lot of humanity. I once spent three weeks working nights driving an electric buggy around the warren of tunnels underneath a major hospital, towing carts full of all sorts of medical waste, disassembled beds, broken furniture going for repair, boxes of supplies and tons of laundry, etc, from one drop-off point to another. You could go the entire night and only ever meet three people.
Naturally I soon got bored and spent some time exploring the place. In one of the less-travelled tunnels I found myself up against a 10' square blast door, the entrance to the nuclear bunker where the local great and good had no doubt schemed and plotted to gain places in a refuge from which they could later emerge and rebuild civilisation in their image. Given the number of RAF bases in the environs, I did wonder if they'd stopped to think how likely it would be that their refuge would become their tomb, buried under ten floors of collapsed hospital.
HHGG already dealt with what happens when people in vague pen pushing and talking middle class jobs are tasked with rebuilding civilisation.
I suspect the great and good in the bunker would merely be staving off the inevitable for a few weeks till the tinned food ran out, or till the water pump failed and it turned out none of them knew one end of a screwdriver from the other ("Screwdriver? Isn't that some sort of mixed drink, old boy?")
Interestingly enough there was (and still is) an electricity substation just over the road from the hospital car park. It's a squat brick building surrounded by one of those spiky steel fences with an outer hurricane fence around it and the pylons. I did wonder if that would be where an escape exit might emerge, although after all this time I can't remember whether or not the bomb shelter was on that side of the hospital complex.
mentioned this before....
During the 'protect and survive" years, I worked for the government, fairly close to a primary target (like about 1/2 mile).
What we planned to do rather than cower inside the 'safe refuge' was go out onto the concrete slab that was the carpark, and arrange ourselves so that when the bomb went off, it burned our shadows into the concrete in an amusing pattern, so that in 1000 years time, people could come and look, then try to explain to the 4 yr olds that we must have been doing a fertility dance when the bomb exploded in answer to the question "But mommy... why does the man look like he has his arm up the other mans arse?"
Well, mine and Mr Gadds-Allison's, who will be hopping mad when he gets handed his scurvy tablets on Monday
Missed opportunity there Alistair, could have invented a couple more conditions where dear old Mr Gadds-Allison has an unfortunate appointment with a proctologist and some cold hands, adding to his confusion as to what possible connection there could be to this procedure and his corns.
...as such language is rather negative. Instead, we should marvel at the flexibility of the information boundary in today's systems.
After all, I think it was Einstein, or possibly Kendall Jenner, who said "information is as motes of dust, dancing upon a ray of sunlight".
Do not fret, Dabbsahib. Mr. Gadds-Addison thoroughly enjoyed his scurvy tablet, which arrived in the form of a cask of grog. What's more, the citrus component came from Australia, so all thought of hopping was banished. Or at least inclusive. In fact, when I last saw Mr. G-A, he said: "Mr. Gadds-Addison, that's rather formal for the 21st century don't you think, old chap? You may call me Rear-Admiral Gadds-Addison." I am replete.
Don't ask. Mine's the one with the cask.
The Register 
Biting the hand that feeds IT
Copyright. All rights reserved © 1998–2024
