The Information Superhighwayman

All things are so very uncertain, and that's exactly what makes me feel reassured.

A while ago I pondered starting a weblog devoted to security. I occasionally feel the need to write something about this subject and I was worried that my one loyal reader would probably get bored stiff if I wrote too much in amongst my generally pointless rants.

My problem is that I know more about security than you. I am pretty safe in saying this unless you are one of a handful of people, all of whom I could name and none of which would be reading my weblog. Don’t get me wrong – If you are an expert in Linux, I bet you know tonnes more about Linux security than I do and I know 12 year olds who know more about modern hacking tools and methods than I ever will. The problem is that these specialisms don’t make good all around security experts; experience and exposure does and if nothing else, I have a lot more of that than most.

I got an email from an old adversary of mine today and part of my reply got me thinking about how I view a profession I used to be very much involved with. I quote:

“My former industry is full of self-publicists who are dreadful at
what they do; I care nothing at all for them and their paranoia
fuelled money making machine. I’ll stick with breeding camels and
just drag myself back into security when I need to eat occasionally,
but even so I don’t much think that will last.”

I’d like to write about security. As an odd kid working out better ways of nicking things or how to open locks I wasn’t meant to open, I have always been interested in the topic and I have devoted most of my adult life to it. When I was at school and a teacher of mine suggested that I manage the school computer systems as an alternative to trying to pull them to bits to see how they worked; I had no idea that a few years later I would be in the position to happily ignore fax requests for help from the FBI because they refused to give me a cool baseball cap or getting hate mail for working with the government to get Universities to prosecute hackers under the then new Computer Misuse Act (an action on my part which was  very misunderstood since I was actually more on the side of the students trying to make sure that they received a fair trial where the Rules of Evidence applied). Incidentally, we haven’t even hit the 1990s nor the start of the Internet in the UK yet.

I am not blowing my own trumpet here, I don’t like blatant self publicity and it’s certainly a bad trait in a security person anyway. That said, I am going to talk about me. It’s my weblog and if you don’t like it, then stop reading. I am making a point that I don’t like being told I am wrong by somebody who got a degree in Computer Security from Wigan Polytechnic in 2005 and then spent a few months getting a bunch of commercial “qualifications” consisting of seemingly random letters from computer-equipment manufacturers and then gets employed by some company and given a job title with the word manager, or consultant in it.

In my previous jobs I was surrounded by ’em. I’d go to meetings to be told I was wrong by people who didn’t  have a clue what they were talking about. I wasn’t wrong, I am rarely wrong about things I profess to know something about. At BT, we had a chap who I will call John (mostly because that is is name). He didn’t go to University, he didn’t have a single security qualification and he knew very little about computers, networks or telephony. He had, however, spent more than 10 years as a soldier in Northern Ireland on constant active duty. I had been told by my colleagues that John was a jobsworth and something of a tosser and although his job was to give security advice for high-profile projects, he shouldn’t be consulted. I ignored them and decided to talk to him one day  about a system I was building for one of the country’s biggest banks. It was a pretty good design and there weren’t too many flaws that I could see but as soon as he saw it, he started asking questions that other people hadn’t thought of and prompted me to make a lot of changes for the better. He didn’t know about anything like as much about technology as the people I was surrounded by but he did have a much better appreciation of security in general and he knew what questions to ask and wasn’t afraid to ask them. Although he doesn’t know it, it was him who prompted me to get more military training to increase my skill set. I would say thanks but he’ll never  read this; I don’t think he knows how to use a web browser.

It’s become an odd industry. We are talking security here and security is meant to be quite important in the modern world. There are billions of pounds flying around the world at any given moment and as you see every time the government accidentally sells a few million people’s personal details at a carboot sale, there are people who actually worry about this sort of thing. Who is protecting all this money? Who’s looking after your personal  details? Generally speaking, it’s the people with the Wigan Poly degree I am afraid. They don’t have a clue what they are doing and in the rare cases where somebody who does have a clue gets to contribute, the babbling rabble who are shouting out “We can do it for you on a Linux box for 50p” will win the day anyway since it all ultimately comes down to money.

I am not going to start a security weblog. I am not sure there is much I could write that hasn’t already been butchered by the Wigan Polytechnic Press. I may still write about security things but I will just do them as normal rants.

Now you know.

The pheasant situation is starting to become silly. For those of you lucky enough not to have heard me rant in person; we seem to have a whole colony of pheasants living in the garden. I have nothing against pheasants when they are timid little things that fly away when you approach them – In fact, I think pheasants are very pretty birds generally deserving of not being shot. These ones, on the other hand, are starting to get just a little too comfortable.

For a start, they scare the cats. My cats are not easily scared, they bring me rats, squirrels, small wolves… But the pheasants just completely ignore them, in fact a few days ago, I caught Poggin inside the house, looking out of the patio doors looking oddly uncomfortable. I followed her gaze and there was a huge fat pheasant standing face against the glass, staring back at her and me.  He didn’t go away; in fact when I later returned with a camera, I swear he posed.

The other problem is the noise! Pheasants are noisy little fuckers. As I am typing this, at the opposite side of a large house, all I can hear is that bloody bird squawking about something or other. I suspect the something or other is the fact I haven’t put food out for them. I shall go and check…

Um, no, apparently the squawking was actually squeaking, and it was Tink torturing a mouse. Now I have to deal with that too. I went out to try and record you pheasant noises but I got sidetracked taking pictures of the manhole full of poo.

Anyway, this post was just an excuse to procrastinate a little and to post some pheasant photos, so here you are:

Harassing Poggin 1

And if you want the rest, then click on the little “Read more” thingumy. continue reading…

I am not writing very much at the moment but as an additional aid to my procrastination I have decided to write a few weblog entries. In the public interest I should mention that they will mostly be nothing but self-indulgent, procrastination-fuelled intellectual-masturbation and I will warn you when I have passed this brief phase and return to my normal sardonic ranting. If it helps, I will flag them all with the tag “Masturbation” so you can safely ignore them.

Apropos nothing; today I smell of Cherry and Almond and as I was putting this gloop of a shampoo on my hair earlier I started to wonder what had happened to The Body Shop’s dewberry range. Back in the early 90’s, White Musk and Dewberry were the Body Shop’s two original smells and the country stank of them. I am fairly certain that this was the thing that introduced our obsession with smelling like berries but the original source seems to have vanished from our memory altogether.  Bring back dewberry! Just not quite as much as before.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/business/2007/sep/12/genderissues is quite a sweet article on Body Shop dewberries.

Don’t read this! It’s a note to me not to you.

I just wanted somewhere to remind me about things I was going to write in the future. So here it is.

  • Yet another Global Warming grumble.
  • Judges and their concept of computer evidence.
  • Whether I should start a security weblog.
  • Michael on Containers.
  • An update on TV after my last posting on it.
  • The curious incident of the Mouse that died horribly
  • The top 10 ways I have nearly killed or maimed myself.
  • How to win the Widget game.
  • The top 10 reasons to leave this dump of a country.

That’s about it for now, but I will probably edit it. If you did ignore me and actually read this, then you do realise I will probably never write any of this don’t you?

Warning – This is in draft and is hard to read, I will add/remove some punctuation and proper connecting words later.

I don’t write much about me in here so people who don’t know me won’t have been following my year long war with my Landlords and their agents. It started with the landlords coming back from Canada for a visit and wanting to visit the house they have rented to me for 10 years (apparently I am a tourist attraction) and ended a couple of months ago with them having spent a fortune, made zillions of stupid legal mistakes and getting a possession order to get the property back a year after they started when they could have got one months earlier or, just asked me to leave.Part of the collateral of this little battle has been that the Landlord’s letting agents who are the people who look after the property and who were the people who messed up anyway and apparently seem more than happy to lie about it all in court; have stopped talking to me. They don’t acknowledge my mails, and I gave up actually trying to talk to them in person ages ago. This means that they don’t respond to any of my complaints about any of the problems with the house: the fact that power points seem to randomly blow up; the fact the roof lets in water (lots of it), the fact that the oil tank seems to have a dead goat in it (ok, so it’s probably a rat, but you get the idea); the fact that the windows have all started to fall out… They also don’t seem to care that the sewers are blocked – Not just blocked, but blocked badly. They have been like that for about 3 months but are getting worse to the point that the neighbours really must know by now, mostly because every time we flush the toilet, the whole street stinks and their gardens fill with the previous contents of our toilet.

I have told them I am not paying any rent until they fix it, since I will probably need the money for long term medical care for acute Cholera or something but of course, they always pretend never to have received my emails (they claimed this in court when they said I hadn’t sent them anything and couldn’t produce it in discovery – Somebody should probably fix their mail system!) – It doesn’t much matter to me anyway, I am out of here and to the land of Camels soon. I do pity the next tenants here though although supposedly the landlords are actually moving back from Canada to live here. Well I hope they enjoy their 1st job, cleaning out that hole. I suspect it would have been a lot easier for them if they’d done it when we first told them but then, I guess it’s a very good way to get somebody out of your house. Biological Warfare. The Way Forward!

Enjoy the video… I can’t get it to embed in this so apparently I just have to include a link to Youtube. Crappy bloody weblog software. All the cool kids have software that lets them include videos. Grrr. Anyway:

http://www.youtube.com/v/H60UczWBjK0

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Oh one thing – Apparently the video narrative is wrong – The bath was emptied first and then after about 3 minutes, the toilet was flushed. It’s at that point in the video that things turn from unpleasant to fairly revolting. What you also don’t see is another drain behind me which is also blocked up, but not so much, and the downpipe from upstairs to that, which is starting to split and spill its contents everywhere on the way down.

As I said; Biological Warfare shouldn’t really be an option in tenancy disputes but seemingly, it is. The irony is that somehow, I am sure they will twist this so that it’s my fault and probably end up trying to sue me about it or something. They do like wasting their money in court.

It seems that it is all the rage nowadays to create Web Comics. So without further ado…

Page 1

Page 2

Page 3

Next week, thank the Gods, Sturgeon and Wonklebottom will not be appearing in a comic in which they discuss stuff they learned in class earlier about how three made up numbers can be combined together to form the word ePii, which sounds a little bit like the word pee-pee.

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