During an Alaskan cruise in late June 2011, we were fortunate to be able to join a sea and land photo safari. The first part took us out on the water in search of wildlife. This humpback was playing in the middle of the waterway, and I just caught his tail flukes before he dove out of sight.
This is the second installment of a new story I started posting last night. Be sure to let me know what you think. The more response I get, the more motivated I am to add more!
The screen of code stared back at him. Two years to write, another to test. Countless revisions. It was time. With a single keystroke, he would change history forever.
Simon only had to sit back and wait. The initial reports would come slowly. The first sign of it replicating would be upticks of the Trojan virus on the tech blogs and anti-virus sites. It would also trigger botnet detections, but that was part of the plan. And Simon had planned this meticulously. This wasn't a run of the mill virus. It was so much more. It was smart. It could defend itself. It could take preemptive action.
The Trojan and botnet aspects of the virus were decoys. Simon wanted them to be found, to be detected. And he wanted the anti-virus software to remove them. The removal triggered the virus' duplication by deleting superfluous code. It also identified the scanning software to the virus, so that it could take preemptive action. Once the extra code was removed the virus would begin replication, as well as creating more decoys for the virus scanners to find. Each removal activated a new bit of virus code.
But what he was really proud of was the artificial intelligence aspect of this virus. It was designed to use its replication to simulate a neural network, with each new instance acting as another node. It would find open network connections to communicate with other nodes. The Internet was designed to survive breakdowns. This virus exploited that design. Where Denial of Service attacks tried to shut down communication between systems, LazarusPrime (as he liked to call it) exploited those connections to go where the real damage could be done: Inside the systems.
it was a master stroke. A multi-stage strike on those multi-nationals, bastards that stole from people who could least afford it, polluting the environment and never paying a price. It was time for all of that to end.
He'd been watching the news. Simon was an information junkie. Even when he slept there was a TV tuned to one news channel or another. He had mostly given up on the US networks, especially cable news. The fourth estate in America was long gone, abdicating their duty under the corrupting influence of the corporate structure. He watched the BBC or Al Jazeera to get a view of what the rest of the world saw. And if he couldn't get those, his ever-updating array of monitors scrolled feed after feed.
One night when he couldn't get his brain to shut down, he channel surfed and came across the movie "Hackers". It was overwrought, campy and ridiculous, he thought. But one idea from the movie struck him - No More Secrets. Those words were what sparked him to create LazarusPrime.
The megalithic companies didn't care whose lives they destroyed. As long as the bottom line was protected, that was all that mattered. And that fact, in and of itself, lent to creating a major component of LazarusPrime. A virus that first and foremost protected itself. It would have to detect removal efforts and thwart them. Infect the scanner or disable it. Fool the scanning software. Whatever it took to survive. It would set up decoys and target specific files to defend itself.
[pullquote author=""]It was elegant, beautiful. And those greedy, corporate asses wouldn’t know what hit them.[/pullquote]
And it would have to go one step further. It needed to communicate with other nodes, other copies of itself. The best analogy was that of a hive mind. Single instances were fairly weak. But as each instance replicated, it's strength grew exponentially. It became its own repository of information. Instead of waiting to be detected, it would identify threats, determine weaknesses, and proactively render them inert. If it failed, it recalibrated, replicated, and tried again. The first few nodes wouldn't be capable of much. They were like advance probes. But as they spread, they grew in complexity and aggression.
The first wave was unleashed as a simple app that would fool thousands, maybe millions of Facebook users. It was disguised as an app to protect users from phishing attacks. The premise was that if you installed this app, it would detect phishing scams before they started. The virus was coded into the app, but had a delayed deployment of a little over a week. The app only asked for access to apps on your Facebook account, not any personal information. That way, it wouldn't immediately trigger any warnings. Simon also created some bogus phishing attacks, specifically so the "app" would have something to "detect". That's all it really needed. Once a couple of scams were detected, the app would offer to scan your whole system for potential threats. That scan would deploy the virus itself. Boom. Once deployed, even if the user removed the app, the virus was already attacking. Subsequent virus scans would only detect common viruses, "remove" them, and trigger the replication.
Simon figured the critical mass of replication was about 1200-1500 systems. Once the virus reached that many nodes, it would be able to use its AI components to start to "think" on it's own. Maybe a couple of days max. By the time someone figured out systems were being compromised, the virus would have already figured out how to thwart future attacks. The more nodes, the more sophisticated the response from LazarusPrime.
It was elegant, beautiful. And those greedy, corporate asses wouldn't know what hit them.
I've been waiting to write this post until I had a more firm idea of what was going to happen next. Now that the wheels are in motion, I can put fingers to keyboard.
When Mitt Romney's infamous 47% video made headlines, I was insulted. For I am one of those 47%. Not by choice, but by circumstance. Not that the Governor would care to hear it, or care at all for that matter. But here's a slice of reality from a great many of those in the 47%.
I lost my job in the middle of 2011. Not a great time to lose a job. But I immediately started looking for work. Here in California, the job market is still weak. I was on unemployment for four months before I landed a job. And for the first time in nearly 15 years, it was a job I knew I would truly enjoy showing up for.
I was at that job for two months when I had a heart attack. Insurance had not yet kicked in, and the hospital helped me apply for Medi-Cal and disability insurance. I was told it would be about a year to recover. The first month, because of the time I had been out of work, I had no share of cost. Share of cost is essentially the monthly deductible you are required to pay before Medi-Cal starts paying. My medical costs for the first month were more than a half million dollars. But that assistance was short-lived. In the second month, the share of cost jumped to $1543. Per month. My rent is only $1200. And the reason? I was making too much from disability. That's right, the insurance that I had paid into most of my working life was paying me too much for me to get any real assistance from the state. I couldn't work, and had to pay all my medications out of pocket. No other public assistance was available, for the same reason. And, I have been unable to get a primary care doctor because they won't take new patients who have a share of cost. They want to know they'll get paid, and with a share of cost, they are responsible for collecting the first $1543 every month from me. I had to skip my last cardiology appointment because I can't afford the $154 office visit fee that has to come out of my pocket.
But I was able to pay the rent. So we scraped by.
About a month ago, my doctor told me I could return to work. I immediately went back to my employer to let them know, and they rehired me on the spot. I wasn't on disability because I thought I was a victim, or because I was lazy. I was on disability because I was recovering from a heart attack and the placement of two stents. I was glad I was able to go back to work.
But here's the catch, governor. I am now bringing home, from a full-time job, less than half of what I got in disability. My first two checks - a month's worth - totaled less than my rent. Forget food, utilities, gas for the car, anything else. Not enough to keep the roof over our heads. I have enough money to pay rent for November. December? Not a chance.
My brother offered, after my heart attack, to let us move in with him. I had to ask if the offer was still open. But this means my nine-year-old and I will have to share a room. it's not going to be comfortable. We'll also be making arrangements to try to keep her at her current school, even though we'll be in another district, as she is in a special program that has done wonders for her. Moving her to another school would be a massive disruption. Hopefully, they will be able to bus her back and forth. Again, not close to ideal, but we're not in a position to pick and choose.
So, I am a shining example of the 47% the Governor thinks is mooching off the government.
But I'm not lazy. I wanted to be working. I didn't want to be on disability. I still don't have health insurance, as my rehire reset the clock for eligibility. I likely won't get insurance until after the first of the year. And even then, I really can't afford it. Hopefully, Medi-Cal will reevaluate my case, now that I'm making less than $1200 a month.
Now, by the current tax laws, I should pay nothing in taxes this year. By Romney's definition, that makes me a moocher, a parasite. At my current earning level, I will have a take home of about $13,500 for a family of two. And yes, I will be paying rent. About half of what I'm making. How much of that, Mr. Romney, should I be paying in taxes so that you no longer classify me as a drag on society, as irresponsible, as a victim? And if I do pay more, so you can give a tax cut to the wealthiest in our country, your friends, how is that lowering my taxes?
i am none of those things. I took unemployment and disability payments from a fund that I have paid into since I was thirteen years old. That's my money. I have pre-existing conditions that would preclude me from getting insurance without forcing insurers to cover me. By your description, Governor, I wouldn't be able to get insurance under your plans because I wasn't previously covered. So my heart condition doesn't get treatment. I'll have to use the plan you described, relying on the emergency room when things get so bad I have no choice. I'll let you explain to my daughter why dad's in the hospital again. That is, of course, if I survive another heart attack that was precipitated by lack of treatment.
No, Governor, the 47% aren't lazy. They're the elderly. They're college students. They're disabled veterans. They're the working poor. And they're people like me, who aren't treading water, but are simply trying to catch a breath before the next wave washes over us. Your insinuation, your belief that we are something beneath you, that somehow we are impeding your ability to further mass wealth is insulting, disgusting and vile. Not that it matters to you.
Exactiy nine months ago today, an event occurred that changed my life going forward. In the last two weeks, however, it appears my karmic path Has been to test how well I could hang on to the safety bar on the Rollercoaster.
I didn't know I was having a heart attack the night of December 22nd, 2011. Unlike most heart attacks, mine did not have the typical signs. Mine started as back pain, which I thought was due to overexertion at work. Doctors have since reminded me, multiple times, how lucky I have been to survive.
It has been a series of challenges since then, with only disability insurance for income and medical coverage that really isn't. But I've managed to squeak by. And I've had assistance from friends, family and complete strangers.Ones example is how I'm writing this post, on a loaned iPad hat was offered out of the blue. Just in time, as my laptop completely died yesterday.
In fact, the last two weeks have truly been a rollercoaster ride, especially the last seven days. A disability check not processed, a doctor informing me she won't extend my disability because I can go back to work, wondering if I can get hired back, and if I can make enough money to pay the bills. Scrambling to get answers to all these questions.
In the end, it looks to all be sorted out, at least for the time being. But I keep trying to figure out what the lesson is that life is trying to teach me. Two weeks ago I had figured out a budget that would let me achieve some goals I had set. Now, that budget is out the window as I won't know with certainty what income I have. It could be fine. It could also push me to being homeless. Should I never budget? Should I never make plans and set goals? I don't believe the answer to either of those questions is "no", but it also seems like every time I do make plans, set goals, calculate a budget, life decides to change things up in some major way.
A year ago, I loved my job. Truly. And life took a hard turn. I was told I'd be out for a year, then a sudden change. Each change requires a complete recalibration. And I gotta tell ya, I'm getting pretty tired of recalibrating.
I'm not unrealistic here. I understand life has ups and downs. Totally get it. But usually, there are a few smooth spots. I'd like some of them please.
Plenty of people have written about that day, and far more eloquently than I can. Thousands upon thousands of words have been written and spoken. We know the stories, the tragedy and heroism of this day eleven years ago. I can only share my own experience.
On September 9, 2011, I flew out of Newark, NJ, heading home after having been in New York for a TV appearance. I've only been to NY three times, and never have really had much opportunity to sightsee. But on this flight, we took off and circled around, and I got my first view of the Statue of Liberty. And the Twin Towers.
Two days later, I was getting ready for work when the phone rang. My wife had heard the news and told me to turn on the TV. I switched it on in the bedroom and just minutes later, watched the plane fly into the second tower.
It's odd how our brains work in situations that are so difficult to comprehend. The company I worked for sold all manner of tech gadgets. As I listened to the reports of hijackers taking the plane with box cutters, I remembered that we had just added new ceramic knives that would go through airport security. Thinking back now, it was a strange reaction. But I had a fear that promoting something like these knives would be, at a minimum, crass. So I called the office, and got them working on taking down the items.
Before I left the house, I watched live as the towers came crushing down. I headed into the office, and as expected, everyone was in shock. The building we worked in was directly in the landing path for John Wayne Airport. On an average day, we'd hear jets coming in for a landing every minute or two, about 500 feet overhead. Loud, building rumbling noise.
But not on that day. Or any other day for a few weeks. Just eerie silence. That roar that could interrupt phone calls was gone.
It didn't dawn on me that I had flown right over the site for a day or two. The news was too unfathomable. As I sat watching the news, tears welling up over and over, the devastation, the loss was all that came through. I didn't lose anyone on that day. But what I lost, what we all lost, was the thought that we were safe and secure.
Seven years later, I would be dealing with another loss. My girlfriend's dog had been ill for quite some time. All manner of measures and money had been exhausted to make her comfortable and extend her life. But in the end, it wasn't enough, and the decision was made to put her down. Family and friends were invited over to say their goodbyes. She was a wonderful dog, and had been an amazing companion for my girlfriend through some rough times.
The vet was scheduled to come by the house in the morning to administer the dosage that would put the poor pup to sleep. We didn't get there. After everyone had left, she started having trouble. She had no use of her legs, and lost her sight. Her howls of fear were unbearable. We headed into the vet's office and as they prepped her, my girlfriend put her hand in front of Maggie's nose. The scent calmed her. And then, she slept.
Both of these days, seven years apart, have had profound influences on me. Seeing the grief, the pain of those who lost struck me to my core. I don't know if I acted appropriately in the aftermath of either, and I'm not sure there is an "appropriate" response. We all deal with these things in the best way we can.
But the one thing we can all do is remember. Not the pain, but the joy. We can remember the innocent lives that were lost on 9/11 not for the way they died, but for the way they lived and the joy they brought to their family and friends. We can remember those who have since fought and died in the battle to bring to justice those who perpetrated this attack on our collective family. And we can remember the joy and comfort of a pup like Maggie.
On this day, let's not just remember the nearly 3000 who died, but all those who have gone before us, who brought us joy, laughter and love. Let us make this truly a day of remembrance.
It's been an interesting week.
Last Sunday, my daughter flew back in from her grandparents in Phoenix. That morning, I overslept a bit, and had to rush a little to make sure I got to the airport on time. But I had a few minutes to say goodbye to my buddy Terry and his family before I headed out. We had a good week hanging out, and he got plenty of rest. He should be back on his feet in no time, and causing trouble as usual.
As I drove down to the airport, the grandparents sent me a text letting me know she was already on the plane. It's only about an hour flight from Phoenix to Orange County, and I was a good twenty minutes away from parking. I still had to get my pass and go through TSA. But traffic was light and and I found parking close and quickly. I've learned the tricks of how to get through security quickly - leave everything but my phone and driver's license in the car, and wear slip-on shoes. Zipped through screening in a flash and headed to the gate, arriving with about 45 minutes to spare ahead of the scheduled arrival.
Good thing too. Her flight was very light (50 passengers), and arrived fifteen minutes early. She loves to fly and had a great time.
We headed home and just spent the afternoon trying to keep cool. You really miss the AC when you don't have it. And we don't have it.
It was the first week back to school for my daughter, and she had mixed feeling about it. By the end of the week, we had regained our regular school day routines and were comfortably sailing along. Wish I could say the same for my energy levels, which were all over the place. Early in the week, I was doing yoga in the evenings, got the kitchen reorganization and cleaning done, and started organizing some other projects.
By the end of the week, however, I started getting tired. I'd get up in the morning, take my daughter to school then head home. I'd get a few things done, then suddenly feel like I had all the energy sucked out of me. I'd nap for an hour or two, and wake up groggy and still tired.
This is really frustrating for me. as I really want to get more done. But I have to keep reminding myself that I'm still recovering from my heart attack. I'm light years ahead of where I was, but there's still a long way to go. Reminding myself, however, does not mean that I[m accepting it very well. When I have energy, it feels like I'm back to 100% and can do anything. When I don't have that energy, I feel weak and useless. I still get things done, but all the things I'm not doing jump out at me like they're on the attack.
Things could be a hell of a lot worse. I get reminded constantly how lucky I was that I didn't die the night of December 22nd, 2011. I was very fortunate. And there are folks with far more debilitating conditions than mine. I'm not angry with the world. I'm not angry at anyone, really. Just frustrated that I haven't gotten back to "normal".
Then again, this is probably the "new normal". I'll keep working on my endurance and flexibility, my strength and stamina. But maybe I'll never get to where I was. I'll need to develop new routines, new habits.
It's a pain in the ass. But at least I'm around to feel it.
[A] few weeks ago, the backlight on my laptop screen went out. I can still use the laptop, but it needs to be connected to a monitor, which kind of defeats the whole "laptop" concept. So I have been wondering whether my next technology purchase should be another laptop, or perhaps a tablet.
I had been spending the week over at my buddy Terry's place, helping take care of him while he recovers from back surgery. Taking my laptop was pointless, so he loaned me his first generation iPad to use while I was there. We had discussed my trying to decide between laptop and tablet, and this was a great opportunity to see if a tablet would be a better choice.
I can get a great tablet for about half the cost of a decent laptop, so that is already worked into the equation. I spent the week, posting on Facebook, writing blog posts here, following my tweeps on Twitter. And after about five days, I'd have to say the decision is definitely headed towards tablet.
I was using an older iPad, and yet I had no real difficulty typing, it was comfortable to use, and the battery life far exceeded that of my laptop on its best day. There were some quirks (I really got annoyed with the auto-correct on occasion), but overall, it was a good experience. And I actually found typing more comfortable on the tablet.
One night, as I was tapping away furiously on the luminous screen, I had a flashback to the mid 80's. Watching the first episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, and ho they had converted all those consoles to touchscreens. At the time, those were a pipe dream. I remember scenes of Picard reading reports and sending notes from a handheld device, not unlike today's tablets. Thirty years later, we're using those devices. We're wirelessly connected, we can watch streaming video, access the Internet, make two-way video calls, all from a device that we can hold in one hand. Amazing.
Of course, all good things must come to and en, and packing up to leave meant no more tablet. I'm gonna miss that tablet while I'm tethered to my table with laptop and monitor. Maybe some magnanimous soul will send me a 10" tablet. Or I'll have to just save up. But it will be nice when I can finally get back to that future we saw thirty years ago.
Part of what I've lost over the past few months after the heart attack has been strength in my upper body. It's frustrating, because my legs haven't lost a lot of strength, but my arms and shoulders wear out quite quickly.
So I decided to try something that didn't require any extra weights or equipment to start developing some strength and tone: yoga.
I'd already started doing some meditation to help me sleep, with fair results. Adding yoga seemed a natural fit. I started with just some back stretches, side twists that helped loosen up my lower back. Then I follow them with 30 minutes of meditation. To be truthful, more often than not the meditation turns into me falling asleep. Which isn't a bad thing considering the trouble I often have sleeping. After about a week of this, I tried last night to add a ten-minute routine with more yoga poses that were focused on stretching my back. Let us say I had mixed results...
First clue I might have been a bit ambitious is that things didn't feel all that comfortable. From the yoga texts I've read, yoga, when done correctly, shouldn't hurt. But some of those poses were a bit more painful than I would have liked. Yes, it could very well be that it's because I'm new to it. It's also probably because I'm out of shape. But. I gotta tell you, "downward dog" felt more like "beaten mule". I think I may have been more sore after the yoga than before.
Then I woke up this morning. Pain in my chest. Now, I've learned to be very mindful of pain in my chest, but it's been a few months since I've really had any. So, I sat quietly for awhile and took stock. It wasn't quite the same pain as when my heart was feeling it, but slight pressure on my sternum definitely aggravated it. Answer? Gas. My guess is that the yoga combined with dinner did a number on my gastro-intestinal system, causing a bunch of gas to settle into my upper abdomen. Yay.
So tonight, no yoga. I still have the gas pains - and yes, by the various belches during the day and the resulting relief, it is gas - so I don't think yoga tonight is a good Idea. I head home tomorrow, so maybe I can change the schedule to mornings starting Monday to see how things go.
And that's a big part of the journey I have put myself on. To get to the changes I need to make, I need to not only try new things, but find the right way for those things to integrate into my life. A change that doesn't stick isn't a change at all. It's just a distraction. And what I'm trying to do is create lasting changes. So yoga isn't working right before bed. Maybe mornings are a better time. Or in the afternoons, well separated from a meal. I don't know. What's key is that I keep trying until I find the right combination. And that's really a lesson for everything isn't it? That we need to keep trying until we get the results we're really looking for. When you quit trying, there's only one thing for certain: you won't get that result. But as long as we keep trying, keep adapting, we have a chance of getting that result.
There are so many areas in my life in which this currently applies. Relationships, finances, health, and my emotional well-being to name a few. In one of the yoga books I havreheard gadding, they say that as soon as you are practicing yoga, regardless of what level, you are a yogi. You are a beginner, but the fact that you are in the process of learning makes you a yogi. In that case, I am a yogi in my life. And I have a lot of stretching, bending and learning to do.
My daughter visits her grandparents in Arizona a couple of times each summer. In the last year, she's been able to start flying by herself. Prior to that, a trip to see Grandma and Grandpa required us driving six hours, and her grandparents driving four hours to meet in the middle. We'd then head home and repeat the process a week later. Four tanks of gas each. At the current price of gas, that was anywhere from $200-$275 each, every time she went to her grandparents. Being able to fly has cut that cost to about $150 total for her round trip airfare. Even better? She loves flying.
So, it was time for her end of summer trip to Arizona. We got her packed the night before, and headed for the airport.She got a kick out of being asked every step of the way if she had flown before. She was eager to let them know that at the ripe old age of nine years old, she was a grizzled veteran.
After an uneventful trip through security and a short wait at the gate, it was time to board. I'm getting the clue that my daughter is growing up. The latest was that when they let her know it was time for her to head down the jetway, I had to ask for a hug and a kiss goodbye. Not going to be long before I'm persona non grata...
But she wasn't the only one who packed the night before. I had also packed. But I wasn't getting on a plane. I was making a short drive to the house of my brother from another mother. A week ago, he had some pretty serious surgery on his back. His wife had already taken a week off work to take care of him. Knowing my daughter would be out of town, I offered to stay with him so she could go back to work, and to give her a break.
When I had my heart attack, he was the first to come to the hospital. He was there for some of the most difficult times. And he's been there for me whenever I've needed back-up. Every time.
So this is my opportunity to give back in the only way I can right now.
And it feels good to be able to do it..
You can follow the whole Day To Day series here
Some days are good days. some not so much. And some days just seem like they're designed test you.
The day started off as many do, with the neighbors upstairs letting their kids scream for an hour non-stop. It was already warming up in the apartment, so it was a good excuse to make a trip to the cool, quiet confines of the library.
I've been working not only on improving thIngs in the house, but within me as well. One of the things I have been working on is my physical health. Part of that is reducing levels of stress. To that end, I decided to look into yoga and meditation. I picked up a beginning book on yoga and started doing some research. Yes, I know, it's better to actually take a beginner class, but I can't really afford those at moment, so Yoga For Dummies will have to do for now. i read enough to get some meditation practice, and I tried out some simple relaxation techniques. And I have to admit, by the time we left the library, I felt calmer and more relaxed. In fact, it was more relaxed than I had been in quite some time.
We headed over to my stepmother's house to pick up my daughter's laundry. Her grandmother offered to to her laundry before my daughter headed out to Phoenix to visit her other grandparents, and it was time to pick up the clothes. After a short visit, we hopped back in the car. I turned the key in the ignition.
clicclick click click
Dead battery. It had been going, slowly, over the last few weeks, and I had been planning to get a new one on Friday - four days. Just four more days .
My brother brought over his truck. We tried jumping it.
Click click click.
No luck. I had two dollars in my pocket, and five more in the bank. My next disability check? Four more days. Fuck.
My brother graciously offered to loan me the money for a new battery. I hate having to accept help. Over the last two years. I've had no choice but to accept help too many times. And here I was again, in the position of having to accept again. This would be the whole point of making the changes I have been working on.
We started checking prices for a new battery online. $112. $99. We tried AutoZone and Pep Boys. I tried Costco, but their website didn't have any batteries. My stepmom suggested WalMart, but to save a trip, we tried calling. Six times. Operator disconnected me three times, sent me to the wrong department three more times.
We decided to just go ahead and go to WalMart. I headed out to the car and pulled the battery out. On the side? Kirkland. Costco's brand.
I had looked on Costco's site, but hadn't called. A quick call and I found that they had the battery - for $85.
Thirty minutes later, the battery was installed with a promise to to repay the loan after I receive the next disability check.
This series of events was frustrating, infuriating, and embarrassing. But something interesting happened. Or rather, didn't happen.
I didn't get angry. I was a bit frustrated, but I didn't want to raise my voice, or lose my cool. I just accepted it and didn't let it get my stressed. And I am firmly convinced the reason is because of the reading I had done earlier, and the meditation exercises I worked with with. They helped me get into a less stressed state, a lower baseline of stress so that when things went wrong, I didn't get severely tweaked.
It's not a huge thing to most folks, but for me, it's another one of those small steps.
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