First we hear that Einstein and Darwin used rapid and succinct messaging as a foundation of their correspondence, and now Amazon has announced that you can buy chapters of books. Given Apple’s success in selling songs rather than albums…altogether it seems to me that Attention Defecit Disorder should be regarded as something of a normality for human consumption and communication rather than the exception. After all, why force yourself through 200 or more pages of nonsense when an important thought only needs twenty-five pages (or a brief blog entry)? Or, as some album-bands of the 80s pointed out, there is nothing particularly necessary about trying to tie a single brillant riff or expression into two or three hours of messy pyrotechnics and big hair costumes. In food terms, a lot of noise is being made about the “supersize” phenomenon, which shows that people are susceptible to wanting quantities of superficial chemically-enhanced filler instead of a simple and effective bite of nutrition. Or…dare I say it…poetry as a more succinct form of communication?
And the implication for security is that it could be easier to defend smaller packages with fewer attack vectors, but it may also be more difficult if it becomes necessary to extend beyond each instance and defend a dynamic relationship/network of connected material. In other words, it’s easy to secure a single workstation compared with securing a workstation’s network (perimeter-shift).
tonight marks my leap into cognac
the sweet smart flavor debut
mixed with a bitterness from my secret
for a night to never ensue
by Li Bai
Among the flowers from a pot of wine
I drink alone beneath the bright moonshine.
I raise my cup to invite the moon, who blends
Her light with my shadow and we’re three friends.
The moon does not know how to drink her share;
In vain my shadow follows me here and there.
Together with them for the time I stay
And make merry before spring’s spend away.
I sing the moon to linger with my song;
My shadow disperses as I dance along.
Sober, we three remain cheerful and gay;
Drunken, we part and each goes his way.
Our friendship will outshine all earthly love;
Next time we’ll meet beyond the stars above.
by Sarojini Naidu
Men say the world is full of fear and hate,
And all life’s ripening harvest-fields await
The restless sickle of relentless fate.
But I, sweet Soul, rejoice that I was born,
When from the climbing terraces of corn
I watch the golden orioles of Thy morn.
What care I for the world’s desire and pride,
Who know the silver wings that gleam and glide,
The homing pigeons of Thine eventide?
What care I for the world’s loud weariness,
Who dream in twilight granaries Thou dost bless
With delicate sheaves of mellow silences?
Say, shall I heed dull presages of doom,
Or dread the rumoured loneliness and gloom,
The mute and mythic terror of the tomb?
For my glad heart is drunk and drenched with Thee,
O inmost wind of living ecstasy!
O intimate essence of eternity!
I have setup my webcam to be able to prove that Euclid sits in the window all day watching the ocean and the birds.
It is hard not to notice bloggers are taking over the web. They are easy and fun, but I do not think I could put it in perspective any better than This Old Weblog. Speaking of links, SecurityFocus has a radio interview with Jennifer Granick regarding digital forensics and the law. She explains why investigating computer crime is different from regular forensics and gives some basic legal advice for companies. Digital evidence is more “fragile” she says. This is definitely not rocket science.
Salon ran a story called “The price of milk (and sex) in Cuba” and I had to write a somewhat prosaic letter to the editor in response. This letter, as well as the constant urging of friends and family, has led me to create a writing section where I will put my own travel stories.
More photos added and a multiple page format created.
The flyingpenguin is relaunched and the photography pages are underway.
The flyingpenguin returns…
A file that big?
It might be very useful.
But now it is gone.
The Web site you seek
Can not be located but
Countless more exist.
Chaos reigns within.
Reflect, repent, and reboot.
Order shall return.
Close all that you have worked on.
You ask way too much.
Windows NT crashed.
I am the Blue Screen of Death.
No one hears your screams.
Yesterday it worked.
Today it is not working.
Windows is like that.
First snow, then silence.
This thousand dollar screen dies
With searching comes loss
And the presence of absence:
“My Novel” not found.
The Tao that is seen
Is not the true Tao, until
You bring fresh toner.
Stay the patient course.
Of little worth is your ire.
The network is down.
A crash reduces
Your expensive computer
To a simple stone.
Three things are certain:
Death, taxes, and lost data.
Guess which has occurred.
You step in the stream,
But the water has moved on.
This page is not here.
Out of memory.
We wish to hold the whole sky,
But we never will.
Having been erased,
The document you’re seeking
Must now be retyped.
All shortcuts have disappeared.
Screen. Mind. Both are blank.