Wednesday, June 30, 2010

How do I sign up to that random phrase thing anyway?

I'd pay extra.

Some years ago, I worked for a branch of a big global corporation. We had this office automation system taking up a tiny portion of a huge mainframe (mini really) whose primary purpose was accounting and inventory management.

Anyway, we had internal email, and we must have been one of the first corporations to hook up to the fledgling internet in order to be able to extend our email capabilities to our HO in London. The implementation was smooth, mostly because the software actually worked. We were gobsmacked. And chuffed.

The point of this, is that we knew we'd also opened email channels to everyone else on the internet. In those days that really only meant your mates who were doing Information Science degrees at Varsity. Yeah. Right. Hackers.

So, to protect ourselves from industrial espionage being carried out from up the hill, we beefed up our password regime with an off the shelf random password generator, which forced a change every 30 days. You could of course, choose your own. This was about the extent of the defenses available to us at the time.

And ohmigod, this package also worked as it said it would. truly, computers were coming of age. Best of all, the "users" loved it, because it spurned gobbldygook impossible to remember things like )F6G7b3d^7(, and presented two words of between 6 and 8 letters long, with a space between them.

FERRARI SCONES

One drawback, was that while these two words were allegedly drawn completely at random from an extensive dictionary, some extremely amusing combinations occured with alarming frequency, and the word SAUSAGE was anecdotally appearing far more often than mere chance would surely allow.

Our users were sharing their passwords, posting the funnier ones in the in house magazine.

Our fearsome and dour IT Manager did put a stop to that promptly. Our password generator remained many years, until operating systems caught up. People enjoyed using it. I should have made a note of who what the programme was called, maybe they're still making useful stuff.

Meanderings

I'm kind of warming to Twitter and Facebook (I'm still not enchanted with Linkedin, it's not enough fun), mostly because I've figured out how to text Twitter, which then posts to Facebook and Linkedin. If I could figure how to get those tweets onto Blogger, I'd be sorted.

At first I thought the 140 character limit was a curse, then I came to embrace the unfinished sentence (much as I really liked that Telecom bug, which apparently appended random sentences onto peoples' texts. That's so funny.

Twitter itself seems to me to be river of trivia, a Tweet flows from the top to the bottom of the screen and you're either there to see it or you're not. Or maybe I just don't know how to drive it properly :)

I loathed Facebook at first, I've always mistrusted it enough so that there is very little actual information on there about me, and I assume that anything I post can be seen by the entire world. Sure, my name, but heh, I'm not even in the phone book. And how do you know that's my real name, and all those "relatives" on there are just my other accounts? Hah. Other than that would be a really stupid and pointless waste of time.

Anyway, I tried to delete my account once, and found I couldn't. Then a few years later, I found that by signing back in, all was reactivated, friends, snowball fights and all.

Incidentally, what happened to all that snowball/vampire/which-kitchen-utensil-are-you shit anyway? Did I somehow turn it off? Or did everyone get bored with it. And don't get me started on "poking" people.

But I can see that it's a great way for friends and family to keep up, and it's as good a way as any to share all your holiday photos. So now I can post and reply with ease, I'm back in. I've had some odd comments from Linkedin contacts, I must say.


Oh say Harve, the copy of Mr Pip that I just read has your, er... mark of ownership in it. So we must catch up for a grand returning ceremony.

What is that anyway? Did you get a stamp made up? 'Cos I'm impressed. Actually maybe I should keep it, in case you become famous, and one day I'll appear on Antiques Roadshow with a Molloy Family stamped copy of Mr Pip. But we should catch up anyway.

I fancy reading some Daphne de Maurier now. I've never read Rebecca, but I do like a good tale of sinister housekeepers.


And I must say that it's a real pleasure to have the broadband to bring up my iGoogle page (The Current Moon Phase is Waning Gibbous, 88% of Full), and the 837 unread blog posts in my RSS feed, are like Twitter, gone. Although they flushed, rather than flowed to be truthful. All while listening to Jimi Hendrix on YouTube. Sweet.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

What Now?

The house in town will probably sell this week. Funny, despite it not feeling like home for the last 6 months, its imminent loss makes me extremely sad. I’m not sure why.

Another new page beckons. I am about to be homeless again. It remains to be seen what comes from it, but at the very least I hope to be debt free.

In a few weeks I’ll begin a house-sitting gig for 2 or 3 months. It’s even further in the ‘Burbs than I am now. Still, freeloaders can’t be choosers.

I have a huge amount of furniture and stuff, and nowhere to put it. I suppose some can be sold, the rest stored. Or maybe all sold, except the Rocket coffee machine. It’s only stuff.

I guess these things will work out in time. But today is a sad day, the saddest in months. I don’t quite know why, maybe it’s just time for a blowout.

Tomorrow I’ll be fine. I’m out and about with people all day.


And the Ripliad? In some ways I liked Ripley’s Game best of all, in this one, Ripley plays a game with a neighbour & gets him in over his head in a plot to turn two mafia families against each other. The book really takes off when a contrite Tom appears on a train & whacks a couple of Mafiosi for the neighbour. It gets worse when the mob figure out who Ripley is, and where he lives.

The next book, The Boy Who Followed Ripley, was a little disappointing, mostly because the boy in question is a bland character.

The last, Ripley Underwater, is reminiscent of Ripley Underground: an American couple move into the neighbourhood & begin to harass Ripley about suspected past crimes. As you can imagine, this is not a good lifestyle move.

And Heloise Ripley is in all three. Not quite as complicit in Tom’s escapades as in Ripley Underground, but supportive nonetheless.

Lessee... since then I’ve read what... biographies of Zsa Zsa Gabor and Greta Garbo, and Mr Pip. I need something new to read.


And a new life to live. Anyone know how to go about getting a job in the islands?

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Freeview vs Everything Else

I need some advice. I'm thinking of ditching Sky, getting Freeview & augmenting my viewing from the web and with DVDs and box sets.

The only issue I have is how will I watch live rugby matches? Particularly tests and Super 14. Any ideas?