September 7th, 2018

Microcosmal public notice

While I usually stick to writing here about quote-unquote “bigger” things, an occurrence just occurred that I thought of note:

My wife was going to bed – before me, as is almost always the case – and for a moment I was arrested. Looking at her through a heart tearing itself apart with throes of boundless love. Thoughts born from a realm of my mind that knows no existence without her presence. Waves of deferred guilt at my immense privilege to have, in all the world, found this wonderful woman at all, let alone have her love me. Waves broken apart and crashing down about my mind, splashing away all the guilt of that moment, but also all my anger and my hatred and my worst self; all those washed away in the moment that was ever more sweetened knowing that I only had to look at her to be so moved.

Then she asks when the hell I’m going to turn off the light so she can go to sleep.

That there is the microcosm. Obviously that of marriage. A great one, as it is.

The public notice is of the same origin.

In so much as:

No one. Not one person. Not one film. Not one song. Not one relative. Not one parent. No one.

No one ever thought it germane to mention that marriage included being sent out of the room because my adoring stare lasted longer than she intended to wait for me to turn out the bedroom light.

Don’t get me wrong. Marrying her is still – by a damn sight – the best decision I ever made.

Well, my decision was to ask if she’d marry me. But at that point I pretty much knew the answer.

Still, this shit was not in the manual.

And at times like this, I feel that I more readily understand those for whom marriage doesn’t work or those whose relationship wasn’t built to deal with such things or those who simply made a mistake and shouldn’t have married at all.

Truthfully, being happily married seems to be the best way to understand how other people’s marriages fail.

Because no matter how your marriage is going or at what duration it may reasonably expect, the baseline is that this covenant/agreement/partnership/etc is going to be effing hard to maintain.

Shit, when I was 19, I lied to my own parents about intentionally not entering the dormroom lottery so I could get a place with my friends off campus.

It was my first apartment. And at the time it was awesome.

But, looking back, I see how I exchanged a sense of freedom for rent I could barely afford and a random roommate who at one point tried to break down my door and stab me to death.

Granted, that was because I peed on his bed.

Not for random jollies. I had a good reason. Even warned him that such would be a consequence of his insanely selfish and at times hateful behavior. Unfortunate then that he came home drunk out of his mind on the exact day I actually did it.

Now we hit an interesting point.

As far as a cohesive narrative, it surely sounds that I’m well off the rails at this point. You wouldn’t even bet that line; Vegas would give such low-pay odds.

Yet, the incomplete story of attempted murder by my ex-roommate from almost 20 years ago really ties into the theme, if you think about it.

Well, once I mention how I intend for you to think about it. Otherwise it’s naught but the spewings of a gobshite.

side note: 10 points to me for confusing spellcheck with a real word twice in one sentence just there

The point is that something as extreme as pissing in your roommate’s bed and having him try to break down your bedroom door while wielding a carving knife…that’s easy compared to marriage.

And at the same time, marriage is a cakewalk in comparison.

Fucking confusing, right?

Because the end of my story on this day involves telling you that I do not, for one nanosecond, regret taking the time to look at my wonderful wife. Forget the rebuke. Nevermind anything that’s happened in our long history together. Nevermind what was happening today.

Nevermind anything.

I love that woman, and at the time I just wanted to look at her.

And, essentially, she told me to fuck off at that same moment.

Which is your true public service message:

If you want to get married, first run through that scenario in your head.

You lovingly gaze upon your spouse. Nothing overtly sexual or anything. Just looking at that person with the eyes of someone who can’t believe that the random universe we occupy managed to produce a result this good in your own small life. That you managed to find a connection with another person; one so deep you can’t even imagine existing without them.

Then they basically tell you to fuck off.

Then you walk out of the room.

Because your spouse is tired and has things going on and what kind of asshole would keep them from sleeping and man I love them and, oh, gotta walk away now so they can sleep.

That run-on insult to a proper sentence? That’s my PSA.

In: OtherNo Comments

August 8th, 2018

Affirmative security defense FTW

I didn’t notice this until the election coverage last night brought it bubbling up, but it appears that Ohio has created an affirmative legal defense for data breaches in cases where the company took the reasonable steps necessary to protect themselves.

Computer law badass Sharon Nelson has more detail and insight on this, but generally reaches the same conclusion I did:

About damn time.

Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up:

If you’re the sec person/on the sec team and you’re all

but then some attackers come at you like

and they’re really clever, so you go

then your users are all

but you show them this new law like

and the lawyers got your back, tellin users

so your company can be all

In: Computers, News, PoliticsNo Comments

July 13th, 2018

The conspiracy of goalkeepers

Years back, one of my favorite Premiere League seasons of all time saw Edwin Van der Sar at Man U and Petr Cech working for Chelsea, with both sides in a heated title run.

My Villa did pretty well too, but nevermind that now.

As a player, I only remember doing part of a single season as the dedicated keeper. But I do remember being a de-facto backup for a number of teams.

The coaches/captains consistently saw me as more useful elsewhere, but I always did love being a keeper. It’s a huge responsibility and one that not infrequently leaves you bearing the brunt of blame for goals.

You also get to be the commander of the entire defense, shaping play to your will [as much as one can]. For as many shots that get past, you get to be the hero for every one that doesn’t. You get to make an enormous contribution to the team, albeit one with great risk of failing that same team.

And while your teammates respect the skill required, the greatest respect comes from other keepers. Only they can truly appreciate a spectacular save, be it the inevitable result of reading the situation to anticipate the oncoming attack or reacting to good effect while functionally blind.

Long story short, I have unending respect and admiration for quality goalkeepers. If for no other reason than:

The other 10 can score all day long, but if your keeper lets in just one more than you scored, it’s all for naught.

Now, I had started this post before Tuesday’s epic England-Croatia match. I then did and still do hold great respect for this man, Jordan Pickford.


He came out of nowhere, in terms of the international stage. He was with smaller clubs until signing with Everton last year. Commentators and opinion-writers for the sport generally panned the selection when it first was known.

For the uninitiated, it’s positively bonkers that a 24-year-old with a single EPL season under his belt would not only be selected for his national team. The side was known to be relatively weak in general; this was still one of the more questionable decisions at the time, despite how well he later embarrassed his detractors.

Your usual keeper of quality is older than 90% of the team, has proven himself in multiple leagues in multiple countries. Your usual keeper of quality would burst out laughing at the idea that a team with a 24-year-old in goal had a real chance to make the World Cup semis.

I mention that i began this post days ago because it was only today my mind drew a line between that man and an American politician.

Namely, Trey Gowdy.

In politics, he’s a relatively young man with, not just an relatively unremarkable but also relatively short body of work as an elected official, compared to his contemporaries. One that also jumped well above his expected station to so quickly chair House Oversight.

Unlike Pickford, one of the clear standouts at this year’s Cup, his performance is somewhat lacking.

Whether you believe or not that some actionable failure/crime was committed in the Banghazi incident, the man utterly failed to prove a damn thing. Those hearings were voted into existence on May 8, 2014 and didn’t end until December 12, 2016.

In 29 months, at a cost of somewhere between $6-7 million dollars of our (the taxpayers) money, absolutely zero was produced beyond a report of their findings, which, for all its rhetorical jabs, never once concluded that Secretary Clinton was at fault for the deaths of those brave soldiers.

Some things might have smelled a bit fishy, but any reasonable person should be able to accept that the committee had more than enough time and resources to discover the truth. In the end, that was their conclusion.

Now, working on the topic of possible FBI malfeasance concerning the 2016 election, he’s doing even less of a job to keep [what is the ball in this metaphor] out of the back of the net.

Note: I will omit commentary on the manner in which today’s testimony was handled, despite obviously having something to say

Based on Gowdy’s questions, he appears to be probing the possibility that someone, at some point, did something to interfere in the 2016 election and that it was done for partisan goal of preventing Donald Trump from being elected.

And that’s where my mind tied him to Pickford.

Pickford is tasked with not letting bad things happen that will hurt his team. In theory, Gowdy is tasked with the same goal. The FBI and DOJ are his field players, and he is there to stop anything that gets past them.

So, if the FBI – the effing FBI that most Americans spent a lifetime being taught to respect – set out to sabotage the campaign of Donald Trump, it should at least be a little bit of a shock that they failed so miserably.

In the ‘sabotage Trump’ theory of events, the FBI, a massively powerful arm of the US government, was actively involved, at the highest levels, in a conspiracy to steal the presidency from Donald Trump, and their public acts in furtherance of that goal were:

  • They publicly announced an investigation into Trump’s opponent’s actions as Secretary of State.
  • They released large amounts of officially-reviewed communications in connection with that investigation into Trump’s opponent, giving them to Republican-led committees with known track records of leaking such information to the press*.
  • They released more caches of those communications involving Trump’s opponent, multiple times, over the course of several months, ending shortly before the election was held.
  • They kept almost perfectly silent about ongoing investigations into Trump and his campaign, specifically in regards to now-known interactions between Trump, his businesses and his campaign with Russian officials during said campaign.**
  • The FBI publicly stated that Russia, specifically, was attempting to exert influence on the 2016 election. At the time, they made no accusations of any kind nor linked said interference to either campaign.
  • When people began learning about Trump/his companies/his campaign’s involvement with Russian citizens, entities, government-affiliated companies and government officials, the FBI deferred all questions, offering little to no substantial information
  • The FBI director, mere weeks before the election, personally announced a return to the investigation into Trump’s opponent, long after the first investigation found no actionable criminal or civil violations.

***(see bottom)

If Jordan Pickford set out to prevent England from winning the cup, he did a similarly bad job. He was a rock in the goal. Stopped penalties, amazing strikes and surprise headers. Surely he could have let one in here or there. But all the while, it appeared to any objective observer that he was doing all he could to thwart his opponents rather than his own team.

The phrase ‘own team’ being operable because the vast majority of the FBI are registered Republicans. This is fact.

Thus, to suggest that the FBI was working on behalf of Hillary Clinton is the same as suggesting Jordan Pickford was working for Croatia and every other team England faced.

In which case they were both pathetically inept in achieving their intended result.

Which would mean all of those keepers of quality were cruelly duped in their respect for Pickford, as would be all the other LEOs of the nation in having any respect for the quality, stature and honor of the FBI.

And I find it difficult to posit that, in both cases, those entire nations could be so subverted with so little evidence left to prove such an act.

*The same press that then-candidate Trump named as enemies of the nation, whom he later not-so-slyly suggested were acceptable targets for murder

**While those investigations were later revealed, whether anything done was illicit or not is still to be determined. I don’t like the man, but we, as Americans, should be fair.

***I’ve personally seen teenage girls organize a more effective conspiracy to give someone they don’t like an unflattering nickname.

In: News, Other, PoliticsNo Comments


IT guy, dev, designer, writer.

Got a degree in print journalism from UF but history dealt some bad cards to that industry, so I moved back to an earlier love: the computer.

Was recently at ZMOS Networks, but am now the Senior IT Associate at the Edna McConnell Clark Foundation.

My name is moderately common, as are a couple screen names, so always look for the logo to make sure you're reading something with official Km approval.

You can get to me directly with kyle(@)