Spying for the .GOV is bad for your business

Interesting observations while shopping for a TV:

Not too oddly, the Best Buy parking lot was surprisingly empty… And all their Geek Squad trucks were still parked. Something about the news saying they were spying on their customers for the FBI seems to have dampened business. Inside had about as many staff as customers. When I came out, my car was alone in its row, and the two rows each side of me were empty. I counted 25 cars in that lot (one of two) that included staff. Perhaps companies ought to consider that before bending over for The Feds Spying Operations… 

Interesting too, was that in Costco I asked about the Smart vs Dumb TVs. The clerk (who was actually clueful) and I got to talking. Seems a LOT of folks were asking about “dumb TVs” as they didn’t want their TV to spy on them. Note to Samsung et. al.: You will see a large drop in Smart TV sales for a while. Perhaps a long while…

There's also a bunch about cutting the cord with Roku.

So what is the "New Country" music?

It's Classic Rock, with a side of Katie Perry.

I'm not generally a fan, preferring something more well aged, but the Queen Of The World likes it.

Happy pie day

Remember, pie are round, not square.

Ultimate Final Exam - A Brigid Guest Post

I read on the news today that New York was going to ditch a literacy exam for new teachers because more minorities were failing it than white teaching candidates, citing "racism" (I didn't know "not actually studying" was not considered "racism"). Yes, let's just reduce the standards so someone that couldn't' pass a 12th-grade level test (and it was) can now teach the next generation.

Back in my University days, there was an "ultimate final exam" floating around that I posted on Home on the Range a couple of years ago. It had one question involving "you will find under your piano seat" and a tiger among other things.  It dealt with emergency situations and self-reliance as well as just flat out "you are so toast on this one".  It's still floating around the web but I see that it hasn't been updated for a LONG time. I figured it was about time for one that mirrored current situations.

Ultimate Final Exam - Home on the Range 2017 edition
Instructions: Read each question thoroughly. Answer all questions. Time limit - eight hours. Begin immediately.

Art 

On your desk is a box of Crayons and a sheet of paper.  Recreate the Mona Lisa.  No smiling. Note that the crayon color "flesh" from your childhood has been renamed as apparently, that was politically incorrect. Even the orange one couldn't be named "what happened when I used Q-T once in the seventies".

Agricultural Science:

Create a process to crossbreed Texas Longhorn and Charolais cattle.  In the back room, you will find a cranky female Longhorn and artificial insemination equipment.  Document your findings regarding resultant lineback color patterns, composite qualities, expected muscle mass of offspring and the impact on raising in parasite infected areas if you are able to write with the bandages.

Business:

You have a product and service that is unrivaled in the current market place and can be distributed at greater savings than competitors. Write a business model to sell off the assets of the organization with the least impact on capital gains after the contract was awarded to a minority business with no actual production experience.

Chemistry

Explain how the use of fossil fuels to convert corn to burnable fuel saves fossil fuel.  You will find a bushel of corn and a car with 1/4 tank of  e-85.  The answer is in a classroom 160 miles away. You are not allowed to refuel.

Computer Science

You have an ancient computer equipped with MS-DOS. Call the help desk that is now in India and tell them the screen is blue and you wish to change the color

Epistemology

Explain why there is no "I" in team, but there is "me" if you rearrange the letters. Be prepared to defend your position and make sure everyone gets their award.

History

Document three historical instances of technological reversals in semi-isolated societies, not including the Torres Islanders and Dorset Eskimos. Describe the impact on the use of weaponry such as the bow and arrow and whether anti-bow and arrow tribesmen contributed to the loss of such technologies and subsequent loss of life and/or livelihood.

Literature 

Compose an epic sonnet based on all that you achieved in your first 18 years of life in which you use the writing style of William Butler Yeats. Tweet it to 10,000 strangers.    No sentence may end in "Nantucket".

Logic

Using accepted methodology, prove all four of the following:

your dryer eats your socks on a regular basis
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
long term public assistance encourages people to seek employment
the sky is infinite

Now disprove all of the above;

Marksmanship:

On the table, you will find a Wilson Combat Tactical AR15, a box of .223 ammo and a can of spray cheese. In 5 minutes several hungry and rabid Honey Badgers will be released into the room. You are in Cook County, Illinois.

Medicine -

You have a link to the Obamacare website.  Get health insurance.  You have 1 hour.

Music

Write an opera for alto and soprano using the lyrics of any album by rapper Lil Wayne.  Explain how this is music.

Religion

Explain why Islam is the religion of peace.  Students are not allowed to frame an answer in Judeo-Christian language or comparative reference as such discussion is not appropriate in a state-run classroom.

Philosophy

Write 500 words regarding analytic philosophy as reflected in the works of Monty Python.(Nudge Nudge, Think Think). If you say "who is Monty Python?" do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

Political Science 

Explain why Hillary Clinton was elected Senator of New York. You have 20 minutes which is 10 more minutes than you had with the rabid Honey Badgers.

Psychology

In the Twilight Series, Edward Cullen is a 100 year old Vampire with a perfect body and perfect hair, who can run. jump and fight in a supernatural way. Plus he sparkles. Please explain in psychological terms, whether his wish to attend high school in Forks, Washington (population about 3,000)  is based on anticipatory coping or a fixation on females with an apparently improper functioning amygdala. Extra credit for algorithms or Edward and Bella hand puppets.

Biology

Create a life form that can survive without food or water.  Document any useful purpose of such creature, either companionship/service animal, medical research,  food source or benefit to society.  If none is found, have it declared endangered and vacate the learning institution immediately with your can of spray cheese.  Your exam is now over.

Blinded by Science

The Scientific Method, then and now.

Hat tip: Bad-ass biker dude and Linux hacker Burt.

As Maine goes, so goes the nation?

Maine passed a law saying that if you wanted to receive food stamps, you had to work (or look for work).  Maine just dropped 9,000 people from the welfare roles because they refused to look for work.

Hat tip: Rick, who grew up in Maine.

Nerd achievement - half unlocked

3 and a half years ago I found this:

I was out on the Motorcycle, and while waiting in traffic saw a hand lettered sign "Used Book Sale".  Well, I'm constitutionally incapable of passing that sort of thing up, and so pulled into the parking lot.  It was the Milton (GA) Library raising money.  It was late in their display time, and so most of the selection was pretty well picked over.

Fortunately, my tastes are a little (ahem) eclectic.  I cruised over to the history section, and saw this:

That's The Story of Civilization by Will and Ariel Durant.  10,000 pages of Pulitzer Prize winningoverview of Western Civilization.

I'm now about half way through Volume VII, which puts me about one volume every 6 months.  There's a lot here.

Decades of doing the same thing, only harder

There's simply nothing to add to this - it was all said twenty years ago.  The War on (some) Drugs has given us a huge butcher's bill: probably 200,000 drug murders since this was recorded.



Sadly, the Trump administration looks to be doubling down on the Wo(s)D.  Maybe that will buy us another 100,000 drug murders.  Some day this Republic will tire of the oceans of blood - of the daily St. Valentine's Day Massacres - and will take the words of the 21st Amendment to heart, extending it to cover other recreational chemicals.

Richard Rodgers - Theme from "Victory At Sea"

NBC ran the series Victory At Sea in 1952 and 1953.  The was was still fresh in the public's mind, and the series won an Emmy.  It relied on film from the conflict, with narration Leonard Graves and a soundtrack by Richard Rodgers (of Rodgers and Hammerstein fame).  This was from a time before people decided that Classical music couldn't be popular, and if it were popular then it couldn't be Classical music.



inspired by an excellent article about Escort Aircraft Carriers that Peter discovered.

Good advice

Brigid Has a Question.

HOTR friends and very kind and patient Borepatch readers. My publicist is in Ireland. TBOB was a #1 bestseller in the UK.  That prompted my husband to send me a text and photo from a large bookstore in London, where he was on business.  My first book was on display with "also by this author", which was a book on ERECTILE DISFUNCTION by a Dr. L.B. Johnson (quick, call the publisher, call the bookstore).

That resolved, (and yes, I'm technically a Dr., but I don't know how to fix the living, only reconstruct the dead) it was time to get back to normal life. Then there is the third book, and my publicist wants to do a Social Media blast this month. I made these tonight and respectfully ask which one you prefer. 1, 2, 3, or 4.

A real post to resume soon. Partner in Grime was gone all week, and I was busy with the house, work, 96-year-old Dad, and dog. Dad can sometimes be a challenge, but as he adopted me when his friends were welcoming grandchildren, I figure I owe him one, and he is one of the kindest men I know.

Someone is getting signed up for Obedience School

Just sayin' ...

Best shot ever made with a 1911

A Army Air Corps co-pilot shot down a Zero with his 1911 after he parachuted from a burning B24.

(via)

Offered without comment

CIA Hack details - beware of what you read in the media

The media has a poor track record of getting security stories right, and the CIA Wikileaks document dump is no exception.  For example, they don't hack your TV over the network:

The CIA didn't remotely hack a TV. The docs are clear that they can update the software running on the TV using a USB drive. There's no evidence of them doing so remotely over the Internet. If you aren't afraid of the CIA breaking in an installing a listening device, then you should't be afraid of the CIA installing listening software.

So as long as you're not worried about a CIA operative breaking into your house, this specific exploit isn't going to be aimed at you.  Does this mean you should hook your smart TV up to the 'net?  Oh hells no.  Just no.

And this is pretty interesting:

There's no false flags. In several places, the CIA talks about making sure that what they do isn't so unique, so it can't be attributed to them. However, Wikileaks's press release hints that the "UMBRAGE" program is deliberately stealing techniques from Russia to use as a false-flag operation. This is nonsense. For example, the DNC hack attribution was live command-and-control servers simultaneously used against different Russian targets -- not a few snippets of code. [More here]

Like I said, it's hard to get stories like this right and mostly the Press doesn't.  There are more examples at the link.

On Choice - A Brigid Guest Post (and yes, I'm shortly, and happily, going to work).

  My reports, so concise and specific
Written clearly, not one hieroglyphic
Blood and gore, unusually keen
makes readers queasy and green
So few like my prose scientific. 

 - Brigid

An acquaintance of mine asked me to speak to her oldest son about careers as he is interested in what I was trained to do. He's in his early 20's, out of college, living in that vast cul de sac of trying to decide whether to continue his education and take a job in something he loves which doesn't pay a lot to start or go into a trade that will pay well, but holds no interest for him. I'm not sure why I was chosen for this bit of mentoring. His Mom wasn't real keen on his career aspiration, hoping he'd chose more of an 8 to 5 job to further promote the home, wife, future grandchildren agenda, as soon as possible. She probably figured I'd tell him horror stories of how hard it is to make a career in the field, the regrets I had choosing the path I did.

She could have asked others, I'm not really sure why she asked me. Granted I'm over-educated, but I'm not particularly qualified by life choices to give good advice. It's well known in a small circle that I'm a good cook; that I knew several innovative ways to sneak up on bad guys. I can field strip an AR15, fly a jet and put on tap shoes and "RiverDance" (alcohol being involved). I can't golf or sing and the only time I tried to knit a sweater, it ended up as a tube top for a Barbi as that's the size of it when I gave up. But I can play several instruments and order a glass of Ale in Russian and bad French so everyone overlooks my golf game.  But I've made my share of career and personal mistakes over the years. I've hurt others and been hurt in return by said choices. Should I really be someone who is dispensing possibly life-altering advice?

But I did.

There was no visit to headquarters, no discussion of internships or education. I simply sat him down over coffee. In a little cafe frequented by those he emulates, I look into eyes darkened by his choices into a clear unfathomable green. And all I can tell him is this.

It's nothing like TV. 

It's not Gulfstream jets that whisk you everywhere. It's not nightclubs and beaches and $1200 suits. It's greed, it's stupidity. It's death. It's politics.  Few think about the consequences of their actions, the concept of mortality being too abstruse to think too deeply on. I tell him that whatever innocence he has now will be shed quietly, the shock of its departure exacerbated by the undiluted abundance of the carnage. Things aren't solved in an hour and when you go home you won't be able to talk about it with your spouse. For reasons that often have little to do with your shyness and more that there are things we just can't talk about.

I tell him he will see acts of man that have profound, adverse effects on others, those they are sworn to protect, and how the inability sometimes to prevent or sway is a heavy burden.   I tell him he will learn how certain forms of corruption are akin to madness, derived from acute arrogance inflamed by support, removing what is left of promise, even as they manage to draw further power from it.

I tell him it will cause him to examine everything in his life more closely and at one point he may not like what he sees, making changes in his life, how he lives it and with who, based on what he knows is the truth he can live with. It will be nights laying awake, long after the world is asleep, going over the puzzle again and again in your head, looking out onto rain murmured sky, still believing that anything within the capacity of an ardent mind is within the reach of an ardent hope.

I tell him he will learn to noticed the smallest things, be it evidence or intent, and scrutinize them carefully. I tell him he will worry about fate less, for sometimes you are simply the bug on the windshield by being at the wrong place at the right time. Fate needs no blessing and sweats no fire, it comes in silently and leaves only bones as it departs and sometimes no mortal flesh can stop it. But as I've said before, I've also found that a good portion of our misfortunes arise, not from fate or ill health or the vagrancies of the winds, but from human rancor, fueled by innate stupidity, and those ever present justifications of the same, hell bent idealism and proselytizing mania for the sake of religious or political effigies.

I tell him he will be required to be dispassionate and get into a routine. Empathy is a great quality in a person, but so is efficacy.
I tell him he will see things that make what's on TV look like a walk in the park. I tell him that he will not only see a lot, he will learn the hard way that there is danger and dangerous souls in the world and if he is smart he will not be one to shy away from it because maybe he can do something about it. It's not a glamorous job, but there is hope in it, there is order.

I've never had the sense of clockwork conspiracies, or some kind of imposing order of evil. There's simply a sense of things falling apart. That's my sense of how most bad things happen, that it's not usually some kind of calculated evil driven by karma, but simply control disintegrating. Most times, things fall apart and happen out of stupidity and carelessness, not any one's personal jihad. And he'll be there to either prevent it, or if he can't, to pick up the pieces.

I tell him it's a life that involves long, disjointed hours, coming home with unpleasant things not just sticking to your shoe, but to your brain, images that come back when you least expect them. For there will be ghosts that flit about your room, loudly breathing lost dreams like air, when all you wish is peace.  I tell him it's a life that can be difficult on a partner. You can go weeks without seeing one another, conversations are often late night and tinged with both longing and exhaustion. Like loving an airman, it requires a kind of understanding sacrifice in a partner that is either foolish or beautiful or a little of both. If you have that, it sustains you, like breath, if not, it's as scalding as a burn.

I tell him that there will be those that hate you simply for your service; those that don't understand that if the good don't try to change things from within, then there's no hope left for any of it. But you can't discuss it, for that is part of the oath, and you just take the barbs and the stings home with you to talk to yourself in the mirror with inflexible weariness.

And finally, as the remains of coffee cool in our mugs, I tell him this. When you come face to face with a decision to pursue a dream, take it. That, despite the ups and downs, bone weary exhaustion, student loans I will be paying until I am dead, blood and tears and long hours, I would do it all over. Without hesitation. But he will not see that looking forward, but only looking back.

He will see it in a courtroom, when justice is served, in part, with his words, the very evidence he has gathered.  He will see it on a cold metal table, when what's left of a life can be used to save another. He will see it in the eyes of a family that bears the news he will give them in that cold abode of despair and not hate him for it but simply say "please don't let this happen to someone else"--and he will not turn from it like some wretched thing that drove him from his sleep, but rather embrace it as his calling, not just his duty.

For one day, while he is in the field, gazing at everything with that profound look that sees further than what's in front of him, he would understand. In the sightless and streaming dark, among the hushed shouts of men which seem to linger in the thick streaming air until the next shout joins and blends in, he will know, as things lost are gathered together.

In that moment, as the rain starts to fall as if it had held off all day for this moment, he will understand what I can't articulate for him. That he had to have tried, for if he did not, he would have come to this place anyway, but with regret.
 - Brigid

Forget the CIA, it's the NSA that's listening in on everyone

Everyone is talking about the WikiLeaks Vault7 releases, which are horrifying but not especially surprising.  What is not getting the attention it deserves is what the NSA is up to:

Of the panelists, it fell to Elizabeth Goitein of the Brennan Center for Justice to state the uncomfortable reality that Section 702 is used to "collect a massive amount of Americans' communications," and that through a series of extravagant interpretations of the law, the end result is routine searches of that database for "ordinary criminal proceedings" in the US. 

"The FBI is reading Americans' emails and listening to their phone calls without a factual basis to suspect them of wrongdoing, let alone a warrant," she noted. 

When pressed on how she knew this, she pointed to explicit conclusions in a report from the Privacy and Civil Liberties Oversight Board (PCLOB) – the government's independent civil rights body that Congress has fatally undermined since it declared that the NSA's Section 215 phone surveillance program was unconstitutional in 2014. (Since that report, four of the five PCLOB board members have either resigned or not had their terms renewed, leaving it unable to legally function.)

NSA slurps up pretty much every scrap of communications that Americans engage in, and stores it in their el mongo groso Utah data center.  They claim that it is only accessed under supervision - believe as much of that as you like.

It's not a surprise that the phone conversations of the Vice President Elect were recorded.  That they were accessed by numerous persons in the Intelligence community is not much of a surprise, after the revelations of the last 4 years.  Note that this isn't just my opinion - it's also the opinion of members of Congress:

Ted Lieu (D-CA) noted that the NSA violates the Fourth Amendment when it collects communications on Americans and then violates it again when it scans those communications. Kosseff argued that only the collection of data, and not a subsequent search of it, was a Fourth Amendment question. 

Ted Poe (R-TX) said he considered it "illegal and a violation of the Constitution and an abuse of power" for the FBI to search the database without a warrant. 

Raúl Labrador (R-ID) was concerned that such a system could be used to distort domestic politics. He referred to the recent resignation of National Security Advisor Michael Flynn for lying about the conversations he'd had with the Russian ambassador, noting that it had had "a chilling effect on me because I thought my political opponents could use my own personal information against me."

NSA refuses to say how many Americans' communications are "accidentally" collected and accessed.  I guess it depends on the meaning of the word "accidentally" is ...

Remember, General Clapper's perjury before Congress was saying that there was no mass surveillance of the American public.

Twin 1 and Twin 2

Pretty smart, actually.

Remembering and Forgetting - A Brigid Guest Post

My brother and I weren't all that far apart in age, enough that the divide that is adulthood came early, but not enough that we didn't spend the early years of our lives joined at the hip. For unlike many of my friends, who merely tolerated their siblings, we were the best of friends, coming into this home from a past shrouded in mystery and perhaps a bit of pain, placed with our parent from an environment that was not near as welcoming.

Our adoptive parents were loving, so much, but they also were very strict and we knew that disobedience would merit punishment. Some forms of it, like a declaration of Liberty, were worth it. Taking the TV apart when we were in grade school (Moms tend to sort of freak out when their children play with giant explosive tubes), sending the "toad-o-gram" to the mean little girl down the block, and switching the dual controls on Mom and Dad's electric blanket (I'm hot!. Dang it! I'm freezing! Why am I hot! Are you hot?)

Yet our parents encouraged us to explore and think for ourselves, opening our minds up to everything they could. TV was a treat, not a babysitter. Money was tight, but there was always a way to bring music and books into our lives, even if well used.  We didn't have expensive vacations but we had historic buildings, and hikes into the mountains, fish leaping up a mighty dam, something always to explore, even as those fish did, always searching, even as they headed instinctively for home.

We had our misadventures, involving tools, potato guns, and the Mattel Thingmaker, from which I still have a little scar on my thumb flinging a red hot stink bug at my brother.

But the limits we stretched were also physical, racing our bikes up and down the block, no helmets or knee pads, as fast as we could make those bikes go. We'd launch as assault up into the foothills of distant tall mountains, breathing harder and harder, gulping air in and pushing it back out, like some tiny steam engine, until there was no breath left, the last bit escaping the lungs as our hearts surged upward, salty liquid bursting out from pores and tear ducts, the sweat of freedom that finally stopped us at the summit as we captured up our breath again.  Then we'd ride down, laughing into the wind and never growing cold.

Once back down into the valley, we'd ride on the road that paralleled the log train tracks. We knew the timetable, of exactly when the train would come by, one moment the tracks empty, the next, filled with the rhythmic rumble of sound, of life, that materialized it seemed, out of nothing, with that air of the deliberately accidental that lingered like smoke, long after it disappeared from sight. We'd wait as the engine passed in hissing thunder, sparks flying up like fireflies let loose from the rails, dust coiling behind it like a tornado in trail.

We could not help but sit and watch, compelled to pause, still in that infinite clutch of the temporary confederation of two elements -water, and air - the frailest of integers and units of measure combing into a force that can not be bound, not even in death. Such began our love of motion and machines, a bond as strong as our own.

Every place was our playground, and no land was uncharted as we braved slippery rocks, and slippery slopes, the creeks the oceans, and the sky from the limbs of the tree (though we weren't allowed to cross the four lane highway nearby, on threat of eternal grounding). We protected our homes from Indians and pirates, helping our wounded past enemy lines, keeping them alive, at least until Mom had the cookies done, not yet realizing as children that we would not always be able to save them.

There were nights in a sleeping bag under the stars in the backyard, looking for satellites tracking across space (when the dog is named Sputnik you know you live in a world where science is wonder). We'd lay there, imagining the back yard as wilderness, the sound of a vehicle on road behind us, not a car, but the throated grumble of a lumbering forest beast, as we stayed safely in the glow of a blazing fire which was more than Dad's flashlight.

There were lines of gossamer spider web cast out from a cherry rod out into a lake, floating on inner tubes as we drifted into our teens, discussing everything from history to funny cars, to how I hoped we'd never die old and unwanted in the rest home where I volunteered after school. What could be worse than ending our days in a small room, surrendering to that dark tiled vacuum all the burden of love and desire and ego and even independence, laying in bed alone as from the corridors came the constant, rattling saber of fear and distress. No, that would not be for us, rather we would go out in a quick burst of glory, the brief fatal blaze of a fine blade.

Days and months passed. There was the discovery of cars, of speed, of the opposite sex, of the lure of hot coffee and the salt of tears.

Then, before you know it, he was gone, off to the Navy, to the adventures we both yearned for. I never wanted to be the one left behind, but I was. As he drove away in the blue panel van in which there echoed the sound of so much laughter as we learned to drive, learned our limits and the speed of which one lost everything, the tears came as only fresh water can flow.

So many years later, but before we are ready, our lives traveled back to each other, even as we are caught up in the obligations and outcomes that adulthood brings and whether consciously or not, in the words and affairs of a world that isas undeniable as it is inescapable. Childhood adventures seemed small in the light of our adult lives, yet they are not, for, in their remembrance, we established a distance between the boundaries of the outside world and ourselves.  Perhaps for a moment then, we could hold ourselves free of the constraint of time.

Sitting here last night three years after he left me, as severe storms grew outside, I so remembered those last days, wondering if the phone would ring, if there would be the strength that night on the other end to pick up that phone and call. If so, we would share in the silence, stories that couldn't be spoken, even to each other, we would share out loud, our past, bikes, trails and trains and the sound a piping hot stink bug makes when it hits your target right between the shoulder blades. Across a thousand miles we would  laugh into the wind where we were not cold.

There was a timetable, but for that night, we would forget it, taking in that moment like a great gulp of air. Although I had other things I needed to do, I would wait there, restrained by little more than an old wooden door and hope. I would sit  quietly, like warm air held in by something as ancient as it is solid, faint light from afar slanted through a crack as thin as a blade. My head would slant  towards the phone as I took a sip of coffee, a solitary lance of heat taken in, there in those moments of remembering and forgetting,

Last night the phone was silent,  as outside the skies finally released their tears.
- Brigid

All the virtues of Man with none of his vices

Bodza's story is here.  Hat tip: American Digest.

New baby, born early

Dr. Jim welcomes his grandchild, in the neonatal ICU.  Stop by and leave some commenty good wishes.

Amazon Echo, Google Alexa, and the NSA

Amazon Echo and Google's Alexa are Internet Of Things devices that listen for your voice commands and then do not particularly interesting things for you.  The minor convenience and gee whiz factor are way outweighed by how you are painting a big bulls eye on your house:

As a rule, IoT devices lack security and these are no different. Unlike other IoT devices, these personal assistants compromise your security in even more ways they you may think. In general, most users don’t read the Terms of Service (ToS) associated with IoT devices or software being installed. Users have a basic understanding that Amazon and Google will maintain your profile information, such as what music you listen to, when you turn off your lights, or even the coffee you order, in an effort to provide a better over-all experience. Over time these devices learn your preferences; the more intuitive and responsive the device, the more we tend to use it. 

What is more alarming is what you don’t think about when using these voice activated devices including those from Apple and Microsoft. There has been a lot of discussion around the security and privacy of these devices over the past few months. One of the biggest concerns is the question of whether the devices are always listening. Both Amazon and Google say the devices listen for hot words that activate them, such has Hello Google or Echo/Alexa, but because these devices are controlled by and interact with by Amazon and Google, the hot words and or the device itself can be easily manipulated to allow for an always on “listening mode” by the vendor at any time by the way of a crafty term of service

How's the security of these devices?  You can't know.  What will the Terms Of Service provide to protect your privacy?  You can't know:

Amazon: In order to keep the Amazon Software up-to-date, we may offer automatic or manual updates at any time and without notice to you.

Google: When a Service requires or includes downloadable software, this software may update automatically on your device once a new version or feature is available…

So the services can update the software without your knowledge, whenever they want, for any reason they want.  The terms of service state that they may sell or share your data to other organizations.  And this is creepy but entirely to be expected:

In addition to the vendor maintaining access to the device, it isn’t unfathomable that cyber-criminals could gain access as well. These are, after all, IoT devices and are just as vulnerable to being pwnd (geek speak meaning owned/or controlled) as any other IoT device. Both devices have indicators when they are in listening mode, however this can be easily disabled by a hacker. A hacker could be listening to your every word and you would not be aware.

And so would NSA listen in?  The Snowden revelations suggest that they might already be listening in.  How much data do they have?  Who knows?

It will be a cold day in Hell when one of these things shows up at Castle Borepatch.

Doofus update

A month ago I posted on a bored RAF pilot who almost crashed his plane:

Post title shamelessly stolen from Peter.  "Bored" RAF Pilot sent 187 passengers into a nose dive while playing with his camera:

A bored RAF pilot flying nearly 200 service personnel to Afghanistan sent his passenger jet into a nosedive when a camera he had been playing with jammed the flight controls, a court martial heard. 

Well it turns out that military justice is much swifter than its civilian counterpart:

The Royal Air Force officer who sent his Airbus Voyager into an accidental dive from 33,000 feet, injuring passengers and crew, has been dismissed and given a suspended prison sentence. 

... 

Prosecutor Nigel Lickley QC told the court martial that Townshend’s actions cost the RAF almost a million pounds: £207,000 on repairs to the aircraft, tail number ZZ333, and £827,000 on chartered civilian aircraft to replace the rest of the RAF Voyager fleet for the 13 days they were all grounded as a safety precaution.

I can't say that I blame the RAF.

Thomas Arne - Rule Britannia!

You know at least three songs composed by Thomas Arne.  Arne spent his career as perhaps the most successful theater composer in London, at Drury Lane (of nursery rhyme fame) and Covent Garden theaters.

His father did not approve of his musical proclivities as a child, and so young Thomas smuggled a spinet (a small harpsichord) into his room.  Using his handkerchief to muffle the sounds, he practiced while his family slept.  He would sneak into the opera, where he met composer Michael Festing who took an interest in the lad and taught him to play the violin.  Working in a lawyer's office, he formed the 18th century version of a garage band.  When his father caught him, Festing persuaded him to support his son't talent.

And quite a talent it was.  Like I said, you've heard his music.  Most commonly played no doubt is God Save The King, the UK national anthem.  Least commonly played is likely A Hunting We Will Go, which few don't hear as children.  But today's piece is the Royal Navy's unofficial theme.

Thomas Arne died on this day in 1778.

Peter Dawson - It Ain't Texas

The Lone Star Republic was born on March 2, 1836 which quite frankly is a darn good excuse to celebrate.  It's certainly a party in Texas, and will be seen in the 49 lesser states as well.

Texas is unique among the states in that it established its own independence before joining the Union a decade later.  That conflict forged a sense of identity that is qualitatively different than you find in other States - to this day if you visit San Antonio you can go to the Alamo: the Shrine of Texas Independence (so says the sign; it also requests that Gentlemen remove their hats).

So wear your Tony Lamas and hoist a Shiner Bock.  That will take you home to Texas, at least in spirit.



It Ain't Texas (Songwriter: unknown)

Well take me home to Texas,

It’s where I’m meant to be

like a cowboy on the prarie wild and free

where the Grand Ole Oprey is a dancehall down in Gruene

Well take me home to Texas, it’s where I’m meant to be

I’ve been up and down this highway,

a hundred times before,

but i don’t recall it ever being quite this long.

One night to go on a two week run of one night stands,

till I get to take some time off for the road.

I can see that Lonestar guiding me back home,

Nashville's nice, it ain’t Austin Texas,

the Tennesee river's nothin’ like the Rio Grande.

The sunset on the Smokeys is quite a sight to see,

but nothin’ like blue bonnetts in the spring.

To tell the truth, I like both places.

Tennessee's nice, but it ain’t Texas.

I like the Memphis blues and the big ole hills of Knoxville,

but my heart’s around New Braunfels and ole Gruene Hall.

I got the pedal to that floor board, just to see how far it'll go.

I gotta keep these wheels a turnin, til they carry me back home.

Glasses Half Full - A Brigid Guest Post

I met a friend for lunch recently and we got to discussing really crappy jobs we had when we were young. She's a bit older than I, but many of the jobs available to teens and college students didn't change much from when we were both young. Her most disastrous job was at was a popular fast food restaurant at $1.69 an hour. Turned out she was allergic to one of the food ingredients and not only bloated up terribly but ended up covered in little spots. I said "did you look like one of those sesame seed buns" and she started choking on her drink (she knows better than to tell me these stories when we're eating).

Me?

I worked as an elf.

And got fired.  Yes, that's on my author's bio for my first published book The Book of Barkley though nowhere in the book is the tale.  Several have asked me to tell it, so here you go.  

You see, in college, there was a company that hired students and homemakers looking for part time work to do "product demos". You know, those annoying smiling people who try and assault you with a spray of Calvin Klein "Narcissist" as you walk through the cosmetics section at Macy's. Or those friendly people with food at grocery stores. "Sure I'll try your hickory smoked bacon but be advised I'm shopping with my identical twin so she'll probably be by for some too."

The pay was much better than minimum wage so it was a popular job and not everyone got hired. I applied. The choices though, for my first job assignment weren't great. A Mr. Peanut Costume, handing out nuts (oh please please please dear god no), more of the perfume thing (I LIKE rejection) or wait, this is perfect! An elf at Santa's Workshop at the fancy department store! All I had to do was wear the elf costume and help keep the kiddies organized while they lined up to sit on Santa's lap for a photo. I got picked for one reason only. Flaming red hair and bright green eyes. Elf material if there ever was one. Plus it was double minimum wage. Woo Hoo!!

The problem was the costume. Scooped neck Elf Dress, Elf shoes, plastic Elf Ears. All too small, especially the dress. We found bigger shoes, probably boy elf ones, but I was stuck with the dress. They usually hired petite students to be the elves, but there were a sucker for the hair and eyes, overlooking the fact that I'm tall and curvy. But I squeezed into it. Some parts didn't exactly squeeze into it well and were sort of on display.

Don't picture a female Herbie the elf.

Picture a green Hooters waitress with really pointy shoes.

Yup.

But I really needed the extra cash for college and flight lessons. So off I went, having fun with the kids, chatting with Santa (who was VERY jolly that day). It was all kinds of fun, and I collected enough money to pay for more education.

Until I got fired.

For you see, I was called to come in the next morning and canned as an elf, with an abject apology "It just wasn't suited for you, we've got an even BETTER position for the rest of the week, we're so sorry, here's your apron".

Apparently, some of the Mom's complained that
(1) I was distracting Santa
(2) (and I quote) Elves do NOT have bosoms!!

So much for my elfin career.

The next day I was standing in a grocery store handing out hot dogs wearing an apron that said on it, in big letters "Have I Got a Wiener for YOU !"
THAT wasn't humiliating.

It was a job though, something even as a teen, I knew was a precious commodity and something to be thankful for. That was something I'd learned from my parents, even if I still totally disregard the whole "wait an hour after eating before going swimming Mom Rule #47".

But apparently, that thought process is not the norm in our "entitlement generation". I was in line at the grocery store the other day, and two very well dressed young late 20 somethings, were chatting. One said "well I could get a job, but none I've been offered I really liked. I'd rather keep getting the unemployment since with what I save on daycare I have more money for me anyway and Mom and Dad aren't charging me room and board".

That's not the attitude I was raised with. If you could work you did. Perhaps it is because I was raised by the generation of "if you didn't work you didn't eat". Both my parents grew up in the Depression, my Mom's Dad killed in a logging accident when she was a teen, leaving the family with neither insurance money or benefits. My grandmother could have just sat down and given up, abandoned in the backwater of lonely isolation of a small Montana homestead. But she did not.

She could cook and bake with great skill and she did. Gathering up her tattered pride around her like a shawl, she sought out the prosperous in town and let them sample what she could create. Soon she had full- time employment as a cook, while still tending to chickens, cows, stall and garden to feed 3 teenagers. Meat on the table was game, the other animals being sold for what they could bring in. Not only did she survive, she put my Mom through college, my Mom, in turn helping to put her two younger brothers through. Both of her brothers majored in engineering, ending up at Boeing with good jobs to support their families and grandma, who lived with us until she died.

A gamble it might have been, but it was one, that by hard work, paid off.


My Dad did ROTC in college and had to work to pay for his expenses. My Dad is a very handsome, proud man, always popular with his peers. The job he had was going around the University of Montana campus with a nail on a stick, picking up other kids trash while the more well-to-do students made fun of him. He spoke years later of how he worked so hard so that he could do more in life than pick up the waste of others. He remembers the taunts. It drove him to excel, but even as much as he said he hated the task he was given, he never hated the job. He was thankful to have it, looking up from the leaves and trash to the high, pale, morning star of the future.

As a youngster, some kids teased me because my parents were so much older than theirs. I know I benefited from it, their words and wisdom. From them, I got what work ethic I have. I learned that if you couldn't get work (and I've been there) you continued to try. I'd left a government position for a job in the private sector when unexpectedly, the economy tanked. I sold most of my possessions to get back into school, working multiple low-paying jobs to make ends meet while taking more courses towards a goal I'd always had, looking at a uniform in my closet with no regret, only pride. I learned it again when the great hundred year flooding of the Mississippi took out much of a family business, leaving us broke, and me soon alone, my former husband's demons getting the best of him.

No complaints, no whining, it's life, plain and simple. But I know I'm beyond fortunate to have a good job. I am thankful it allows me to provide care for my Dad and education for my late brother's children if they need it.  I say thank you in a blessing as I have food on the table each and every day. Yes, I worked my butt off for the qualifications to get the job I have, and talent is something I view as a gift from God - but simply having it all is a blessing. But I will never forget NOT having anything.

For those of you with jobs you like, you are beyond fortunate. Never forget it, and try and give some of it back. Not to the freeloaders and the lazy, they get enough of our hard earned tax dollars, but those in your community who are down on their luck after working and serving most of their lives.

For those of you still looking for work, my prayers are with you. It's never, ever easy. You're used to working, waking up each day to an early alarm, an orderly flow of named and numbered dates that line up like the pickets in the fence, holding in what's dear. Then you wake up one day and it's gone, bulldozed by bad decisions, politics, and fear and you're left exposed, with nothing more than a pittance of a bank account and false promises from our leaders, blowing as trivial as trash and dead leaves.

It's true you never really appreciate something until it's gone be it home, a job or love. You spend years underneath a slow constellation of stars, bright spots of light that have no name and you don't even think about them until clouds roll in, leaving you without reference or direction. It's as much like being lost as any feeling I know. But please don't give up; keep searching.

For those of you with jobs you hate, remember it's not a lifetime, it's just this moment. Be proud of a character that propels you to work, rather than live off of the hard work of others. You may think the job beneath you or not worthy, but there will be those that are proud of you for simply having the ethics and strength to hold it.

For all of you, remember that there are those who care, even if they are terminated elfin people.

Quote of the Day - Tariffs

I run libertarian without being a Libertarian.  This on tariffs seems exactly right, and so gets the QoTD:

A friend sent a link to a leaked, recorded conversation between Trump and Wilbur Ross, his nominee for Commerce Secretary. There is nothing particularly troubling in the conversation. Trump is talking like Trump. He is the same person in public and in private, which is nice.

I responded:

Sounds good to me.  A tariff is a consumption tax collected at the port of entry.  The American founders expected to fund the operations of the national government with revenue from a tariff, and it worked.  He is also right that the Japanese and other countries use safety regulations as non-tariff import barriers.  There is nothing bad on here at all.  

He wrote back saying that that a tariff is not a pure consumption tax because the producer may end up eating some of the tax. 

I responded:

If the producer eats some or all of the tariff, Trump does not care and most of his voters don’t either.  Foreigners don’t vote here — not counting 11 million illegal aliens.  

Bottom line, a moderate tariff was in the past and could be again a substantial revenue source.  Charging an entrance fee to participate in the massive American market is not a terrible idea.  America boomed in the past during high tariff periods.  We cut tariffs to the bone after World War II as a way to encourage foreign economies to get going again and to tie them to the USA.  It was a specifically security driven move, and we recognized that it would hurt producers in the USA.  I see no reason we need to do anything like that now.  

I had the following comments in the course of the conversation which may be of interest:

I am generally a free trader.  I don’t like the government telling me or anybody what they can buy or who they can buy from.  However, the shrillness of the opposition to Trump on this is over the top.  It is not some violation of sacred American principle to impose a tax on imports as opposed to taxing other activities. Moreover, it is not the end of the world that we are using trade policy to protect industries or workers facing foreign competition, when we have a massive industry in Washington which exists to use the regulatory machinery to protect everyone who can afford a lobbyist.  This is just the unprotected demanding some of the same protection for a change.  They have gotten clobbered and that could not go on forever without out some demand that someone else bear the burden of facing the hurricane of creative destruction for a while.  Further, our so-called trading partners especially China do cheat and do use subsidized trade to try to destroy whole sectors of the US economy, including to obtain military advantages. 

Hey libertarians!  You like President Trump?  Fighting tariffs gets you more President Trump.

I'll take "Companies going out of business" for $100, Alex

Rob emails to call our attention to this astonishing bit of corporate security fail-fu:

Two million recordings of families imperiled by cloud-connected toys' crappy MongoDB

Updated Two million voice recordings of kids and their families were exposed online and repeatedly held to ransom – because an IoT stuffed-toy maker used an insecure MongoDB installation. 

Essentially, the $40 cuddly CloudPets feature builtin microphones and speakers, and connect to the internet via an iOS or Android app on a nearby smartphone or tablet. Families can use the fake animals to exchange voice messages between their children, friends, and relatives. 

... 

These voice clips, along with records of 820,000 CloudPets.com accounts associated with the each of the toys, have been left wide open on the internet, with no password protection – allowing gigabytes of sensitive material to potentially fall into the hands of criminals. And it's all due to the company's poorly secured NoSQL database holding 10GB of this internal information. 

... 

It appears crooks found the database, presumably by scanning the public 'net for insecure MongoDB installations, took a copy of all the data, deleted that data on the server, and left a note demanding payment for the safe return of a copy of the database. This happened three times, we're told. Copies of data lifted from the CloudPets system has been passed between underground hacking groups, too, apparently.

CloudPets kind of sort of denies this in a non-denial sort of way in the update.  Unimpressive.

But wait, it gets worse!  CloudPets' woes worsen: Web pages can turn kids' stuffed toys into creepy audio bugs:

Basically, it is possible for a webpage to connect to CloudPets plushie, via Bluetooth in the computer or handheld viewing the page, without any authentication, and start controlling the gadget and recording from its builtin microphone. You can also play sounds through it. Here's an example of such a webpage that can take over a CloudPets gizmo; the browser opening the page has to be within Bluetooth range of the CloudPets toy for it to work. You must also allow the browser to pair with the cuddly electronics.

It is possible, for example, to use this API, with CloudPets' insecure implementation, to snoop on families from outside their house, or from the other side of a wall. Just pull out your phone, open the webpage, agree to pair it with the nearby toy, and listen in.

Other than that, it's totes secure and fine for your little Princess to play with, amirite?

My recommendations is to use these toys for a higher purpose - teaching your little Princess marksmanship.