Dave's Whiteboard

I try not to let January 25th pass without a nod to Robert Burns.  Lately I find good counsel in his Address to the Unco Guid, or the Rigidly Righteous

My Son, these maxims make a rule,
An’ lump them aye thegither;
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
The Rigid Wise anither:
The cleanest corn that ere was dight (sifted)
May hae some pyles o’ caff in; (bits of chaff)
So ne’er a fellow-creature slight
For random fits o’ daffin. (folly)
— Solomon: Eccles. ch. vii. verse 16.

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel’,
Sae pious and sae holy,
Ye’ve nought to do but mark and tell
Your neibours’ fauts and folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,  (nicely running mill)
Supplied wi’ store o’ water;
The heaped happer’s ebbing still, (even though the hopper is ebbing)
An’ still the clap plays clatter.  (it’s making lots of noise)

Hear me, ye venerable core,
As counsel for poor mortals
That frequent pass douce Wisdom’s door  (sober Wisdom’s)
For glaikit Folly’s portals:  (thoughtless)
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences-
Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,  (stupid tricks)
Their failings and mischances.

Ye see your state wi’ theirs compared,
And shudder at the niffer;  (contrast)
But cast a moment’s fair regard,
What maks the mighty differ;  (what accounts for the difference)
Discount what scant occasion gave,  (take away your luck)
That purity ye pride in;
And (what’s aft mair than a’ the lave),  (often more than all the risk)
Your better art o’ hidin.  (your greater skill at concealment)

Think, when your castigated pulse  (If even your often-punished pulse)
Gies now and then a wallop!  (still jumps at times)
What ragings must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallop!
Wi’ wind and tide fair i’ your tail,  (with the wind and current in your favor)
Right on ye scud your sea-way;  (you glide over the waves)
But in the teeth o’ baith to sail,  (sailing against both)
It maks a unco lee-way.  (makes for an uncommonly offcourse voyage)

See Social Life and Glee sit down,  (sit down, as in to drink)
All joyous and unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrified, they’re grown  (they’ve turn into)
Debauchery and Drinking:
O would they stay to calculate  (oh, if only they’d wait and figure)
Th’ eternal consequences;
Or your more dreaded hell to state,  (what you fear worse)
Damnation of expenses!  (the cost)

Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,
Tied up in godly laces,
Before ye gie poor Frailty names,
Suppose a change o’ cases;
A dear-lov’d lad, convenience snug,
A treach’rous inclination-
But let me whisper i’ your lug,  (in your ear)
Ye’re aiblins nae temptation.  (maybe you’re no temptation)

Then gently scan your brother man,
Still gentler sister woman;
Tho’ they may gang a kennin wrang,  (a little wrong)
To step aside is human:
One point must still be greatly dark, -
The moving Why they do it;
And just as lamely can ye mark,
How far perhaps they rue it.

Who made the heart, ’tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;
He knows each chord, its various tone,
Each spring, its various bias:
Then at the balance let’s be mute,
We never can adjust it;
What’s done we partly may compute,
But know not what’s resisted.

Harold Jarche posted a great set of slides on complexity, the web, and business.  I’ll get out of the way and let him explain:

The New York Times reports on an analysis of 32 million user passwords.  Someone stole them from RockYou, which helps people use sites like Facebook and MySpace; the list was posted online.  As one researcher commented, a list this size is “the mother lode” for examining user habits.

Imperva, a data security firm, has published highlights of its  analysis of the passwords.   The chart on the right is taken from Imperva’s analysis.

Remember, the group was roughly 32,000,000 — which means that nearly 1% (290,731 individuals) used “123456″ for their password.

If you add up all the “123-” variations in the top 10, you have 488,878 people who chose consecutive numbers starting with 1 as a password.

The Times article notes that 20% of the account holders–6.4 million people–used only 5,000 different passwords.  (Number 5,000 in terms of popularity was “tigger123.”  That’ll keep the hackers away.)

I’m writing this on Thursday night, following a #lrnchat discussion on workgroups with little connectivity or tech-savvy.  Granted, the RockYou account holders probably had personal rather than workplace goals in mind.  At the same time, I’ll argue that their password selections reflect some of their own tech-savvy… or at least their actual performance, regardless of any theoretical savvy.

Which means that “strong password training” probably won’t solve on-the-job security shortcomings.  People might still use weak passwords because:

• They don’t have an easy way to generate strong ones (like this one that includes a mnemonic).
• They have too many different passwords to recall.
• Nothing bad happens immediately after they choose a weak password.

In a work setting, imagine combining the third and first points: a system or website tells you (politely but candidly) that your password isn’t secure, then offers you help in creating one that is.  The result probably won’t be “abc123″ or “qwerty.”  A more practical problem is that the result’s going to be hard to remember, which increases the likelihood that someone will want to write the password down.

I suspect that even the “tech-savvy” are tempted to cycle through maybe five or six pet passwords, in the same way that a lot of people list “regular backups” as part of their digital religion while rarely engaging in the practice.

I’m trying to remember the last time I looked something up in the phone book.  Honestly, I have no idea.  I do remember the last time I tried to remember.  It was a year ago, when the 2009 phone books arrived at my house.

Which means the 2010 books arrived today.

A year ago, I took the new books up to my office, where I kept them.  As I took the old books out, I realized I hadn’t touched them since I’d put them away a year ago.  I simply don’t use the phone book.

Things were different this year — the books go in the built-in desk in the remodeled kitchen.  Looking at new and old editions of the Yellow Pages,  I realized that I’m not the only one who doesn’t use the phone book  (2010 book is on the right):

Nothing remarkable (other than proof that marketing has completely trumped esthetics).  Notice the thickness, though:

First Class Plumbing LLC has stayed true to Verizon, though I have to admit it’s the first time I’ve noticed there was an ad on the bottom edge of the phone book.  For those who prefer hard numbers:

The new Yellow Pages (lower part of the picture) has a page count 13% lower than the old one for stuff that matters–the actual listings, as opposed to filler like seating plans for stadiums.

No real surprise here, just mild bemusement as I observe the Changing of the Phone Book ritual.  I realize that many people still do rely on the phone book–not everyone’s running around with a smartphone.  Many more, though, turn online for their first-choice source of information.  Inertia may keep the books coming for a long time yet, but friction’s going to keep whittling down their size.

Gathering material for a post later this month, I came across this video of Capercaillie’s Karen Matheson.  Fear a’ Bhàta may date to the late 18th century.  I first heard it perhaps 15 years ago, and only later learned that my mother sang it as a child.

(Gaelic fear, man, sounds a bit like the English word fair. In the chorus, because the singer is addressing the boatman, the case changes and the word sounds more like English ear.)

Fhir a’bhàta, na ho ro eile
Fhir a’bhàta, na ho ro eile
Fhir a’bhàta, na ho ro eile
Mo shoraigh slàn leat ‘s gach àit’an téid thu

Boatman, o ho ro eile
Boatman, o ho ro eile
Boatman, o ho ro eile
A fond farewell wherever you go

Is tric mi ‘sealltainn o’n chnoc a’s àirde
Dh’fheuch am faic mi fear a’bhàta
An tig thu an-diùigh no’n tig thu a-màireach?
‘S mur tig thu idir gur truagh a tà mi

I often look from the highest hill
To try and see the boatman
Will you come today or tomorrow?
If you don’t come at all I will be downhearted

Tha mo chridhe-sa briste, brùite
‘S tric na deòir a’ ruith o m’ shùilean
An tig thu a-nochd no’m bi mo dhùil riut
No’n dùin mi’n dorus le osna thùrsaich?

My heart is broken and bruised
With tears often flowing from my eyes
Will you come tonight or will I expect you
Or will I close the door with a sad sigh?

‘S tric mi ‘faighneachd de luchd nam bàta
Am fac’ iad thu no ‘bheil thu sàbhailt’
Ach ‘s ann a tha gach aon dhiùbh ‘g ràitinn
Gur gòrach mise ma thug mi gràdh dhut

I often ask people on boats
Whether they see you or whether you are safe
Each of them says
That I was foolish to fall in love with you