If you are an ISP, you don't want your clients to spread or become infected with viruses, do you? No. So here's why placing a quota on your clients (though it makes commercial sense) is stupid.
Frequently, Microsoft and Apple release security updates and patches. Sometimes, these large fixes come in packages or service packs that are a good portion of 100 megabytes. I am a conscious consumer, and don't want my computer to be infected or crash. It is only common sense. So I download the updates and use up my internet quota for the month. My ISP charges me for any overages.
When you buy a computer, and consequently an operating system, you agree to a license agreement that says the software is probably not perfect, and that it is not your problem since the manufacturer isn't selling it to you -- they're leasing it. As a result, they feel obliged to fix their software when problems come up (or they want to add features), so they release service packs for "free."
For people with broadband, this isn't a problem. It takes a little while to download the updates, but then you're back to normal. For people who are on dialup (agnony!) or have to pay per megabyte, this is effectively a service charge. You might as well have taken your computer into the shop and said "fix 'er up!"
Cost Analysis. An example ISP here in Oz sells internet access at the rate of $40 for 500MB. That's about 8 cents per megabyte. The last Quicktime update was 70MB. It cost me $5.60 to download the "free" software. I think that the ISP should pay a portion of that to the software manufacturers who release patches. They're drumming up business by automatically insisting users install the updates, and sometimes even automatically delivering them.
If the megabyte-meiser ISPs utilized a caching proxy mechanism where they didn't charge for the updates once they had a cache of them, it would be less filthy -- but the first (probably most conscientious) upgrader gets punished. The result: people realize what's going on and either (1) bite the bullet and pay for the upgrades or (2) punt, and risk infection.
The same goes for Virus Definition files and anti-spyware tools. The act of downloading files that are actually helping the ISP reduce the amount of unwanted traffic (i.e. virus, zombie-creation, spyware, hacker prevention) is being penalized. To the ISPs: eventually some of your clients will become wise and switch to a restriction-free broadband provider; others will bog down your network with virus-laden computers until their systems become useless -- then they will simply discontinue their subscription. Not all 'net traffic is equal; you are not mobile phone carriers; this is not the 1990s. Internet technology is inexpensive -- treat it that way.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
like a phd student
I feel very phd-studenty today. Google sent me an alert saying my advisor made the news. (Link to article) Initially the author of that article contacted me about an interview, but didn't want to call Australia; so I forwarded him to my advisor who is now the main feature of the article. Hmph.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
more pictures
I posted a few more pictures (click on the one shown), including some of the bluebottle jellyfish that invaded the beach on Wednesday; the second wave showed up yesterday.
Last night I walked down to the beach to relax a bit -- it was a nice cooler evening and the sun was slowly drooping behind me as I gazed out at the surf. A fresh deployment of jellyfish lay on the beach in a sort of rescue mission for their cohorts who had washed ashore the day before. They haven't learned to walk yet, so the mission was not much of a success. Although most of their kind lay too far ashore, some of them retreated back with the waves.
The beach activity for the day had been minimal, perhaps because of the blueys lining the beach. Instead of deep footprints from scantily-clad bronzed aussies, seagull tracks showed the whole day had been spent in squabbles over who-knows-what.
Some secret sea-floor mischief lay about 200 meters from the shore, causing the waves to argue amongst themselves. A particularly strong wave recedes at the same time a strong one approaches -- butting head to head they erupt high into the air, much like lava from a fissure in the earth. Thunder resounds up and down the beach as the fusion of the waves nullifies the nearby chop in the water; for an instant there is calm in the surf, until a new pair of waves come to dual.
Up the beach, a few guys on surfboards exercised their art of gliding on water. A few others without surfboards tried to lay down on it. A seven-year-old walked balance-beam style on the edge of the lifeguard chair declaring, "Louk ma, oihm ah loifgahd!"
Meanwhile, the jellies silently conspired to sting my feet.
Last night I walked down to the beach to relax a bit -- it was a nice cooler evening and the sun was slowly drooping behind me as I gazed out at the surf. A fresh deployment of jellyfish lay on the beach in a sort of rescue mission for their cohorts who had washed ashore the day before. They haven't learned to walk yet, so the mission was not much of a success. Although most of their kind lay too far ashore, some of them retreated back with the waves.
The beach activity for the day had been minimal, perhaps because of the blueys lining the beach. Instead of deep footprints from scantily-clad bronzed aussies, seagull tracks showed the whole day had been spent in squabbles over who-knows-what.
Some secret sea-floor mischief lay about 200 meters from the shore, causing the waves to argue amongst themselves. A particularly strong wave recedes at the same time a strong one approaches -- butting head to head they erupt high into the air, much like lava from a fissure in the earth. Thunder resounds up and down the beach as the fusion of the waves nullifies the nearby chop in the water; for an instant there is calm in the surf, until a new pair of waves come to dual.
Up the beach, a few guys on surfboards exercised their art of gliding on water. A few others without surfboards tried to lay down on it. A seven-year-old walked balance-beam style on the edge of the lifeguard chair declaring, "Louk ma, oihm ah loifgahd!"
Meanwhile, the jellies silently conspired to sting my feet.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
active cookies
Wow! Of all the times to be out of the country...
This morning, I got an email from a AM New York reporter who wanted to talk with me about phishing and spam. I'm curious why he chose me, but flattered nonetheless. He was a bit discouraged when I explained my location (they usually just do local stories), but we are trying to find him someone in NY to talk with.
Also, the project on Active Cookies is really taking off! It's hit the news many times, even getting picked up by zdnet (who used the diagrams I made) and The Register. This is the most press any of my work has ever had! Wooohoo! Now if my name were mentioned in the articles, it would be even cooler...
This morning, I got an email from a AM New York reporter who wanted to talk with me about phishing and spam. I'm curious why he chose me, but flattered nonetheless. He was a bit discouraged when I explained my location (they usually just do local stories), but we are trying to find him someone in NY to talk with.
Also, the project on Active Cookies is really taking off! It's hit the news many times, even getting picked up by zdnet (who used the diagrams I made) and The Register. This is the most press any of my work has ever had! Wooohoo! Now if my name were mentioned in the articles, it would be even cooler...
evening walk
In lieu of photos (I left my camera when I went walking) here is a literary photobook.
I could live with flocks of parrots around. As I began my walk this evening, ten or so flew over my head; there's something about green birds with flagrantly colored faces that make me feel like I'm sipping a piña colada with nothing to do.
I brought my head back out of the clouds just as I started seriously considering flapping my arms and trying to join the parrots. On I walked, passing a shirtless guy carrying a surfboard, and a few bicyclers. I plodded down towards the beach, on a path between a botanical gardens "annex" and a park of football fields. A sign for the park lists banned activities including discharging firearms, driving recklessly, campfires, and airplane traffic.
Not too blazing hot this evening, a standard 2.4-child family sat in a common area near the beach entrance snacking on buffalo chicken wings and coke. Seagulls congregated aggressively waiting for bones to be tossed to them -- and they can commence their next round of Smear the Queer with the food. Just like children chasing the guy with the ball, the gulls squawked and chased the food-holder. Actually, come to think of it, perhaps they were playing their own verson of Australian rules football... Nonetheless, a seagull who was overwhelmed with competition tossed the nugget into the air where it was caught by a large raven. The raven, who promptly landed with his snack, paused and let out a "caaawah", which the seagulls took as a cue to go away and queue up for the next offering from the family.
Amused by the game, I grinned and walked towards the water. The waves were crashing in at odd angles, though every once in a while a perfect wave would curl slowly from one end of the beach to the other; this is an arduous process (for the water) that surfers love. The longer it propagates, the better. I approached the fingers of the waves as they slid up the beach and let out a big sigh. Ocean sounds are relaxing, even when it's cloudy. A sticky bit pestered my foot and I shook off what seemed to be a little blue jellyfish. In fact, little blue carcasses were lined up all the way down the beach. It looked like Normandy beach on D-day, except the jellies were invading. (Link to what you don't want stinging you)
I absorbed the sounds of the ocean and watched a seagull pick a fight with another (then many others joined for no reason), before hopping over the line of jellies and heading back. On the way out, I passed the flock of gulls that had been feasting on the family's scraps. They were searching the grounds for what the raven might have left behind. One of them was staring at me, so I picked up a pinecone and threw it into the herd. They all approached it, but were in denial that my offering was such a lame one so they kept looking for what I had really thrown. I chuckled and started to leave, but one persistent bird followed me for about 100M. I turned and said to it, "Are you serious?" and it stopped, drew its head back (in disgust I think) then shook its head and left me alone.
The waves were picking up momentum (I could hear them behind me) as if predicting the clouds rolling in over the mountains to the west. I took their cue and rushed back to my room.
I could live with flocks of parrots around. As I began my walk this evening, ten or so flew over my head; there's something about green birds with flagrantly colored faces that make me feel like I'm sipping a piña colada with nothing to do.
I brought my head back out of the clouds just as I started seriously considering flapping my arms and trying to join the parrots. On I walked, passing a shirtless guy carrying a surfboard, and a few bicyclers. I plodded down towards the beach, on a path between a botanical gardens "annex" and a park of football fields. A sign for the park lists banned activities including discharging firearms, driving recklessly, campfires, and airplane traffic.
Not too blazing hot this evening, a standard 2.4-child family sat in a common area near the beach entrance snacking on buffalo chicken wings and coke. Seagulls congregated aggressively waiting for bones to be tossed to them -- and they can commence their next round of Smear the Queer with the food. Just like children chasing the guy with the ball, the gulls squawked and chased the food-holder. Actually, come to think of it, perhaps they were playing their own verson of Australian rules football... Nonetheless, a seagull who was overwhelmed with competition tossed the nugget into the air where it was caught by a large raven. The raven, who promptly landed with his snack, paused and let out a "caaawah", which the seagulls took as a cue to go away and queue up for the next offering from the family.
Amused by the game, I grinned and walked towards the water. The waves were crashing in at odd angles, though every once in a while a perfect wave would curl slowly from one end of the beach to the other; this is an arduous process (for the water) that surfers love. The longer it propagates, the better. I approached the fingers of the waves as they slid up the beach and let out a big sigh. Ocean sounds are relaxing, even when it's cloudy. A sticky bit pestered my foot and I shook off what seemed to be a little blue jellyfish. In fact, little blue carcasses were lined up all the way down the beach. It looked like Normandy beach on D-day, except the jellies were invading. (Link to what you don't want stinging you)
I absorbed the sounds of the ocean and watched a seagull pick a fight with another (then many others joined for no reason), before hopping over the line of jellies and heading back. On the way out, I passed the flock of gulls that had been feasting on the family's scraps. They were searching the grounds for what the raven might have left behind. One of them was staring at me, so I picked up a pinecone and threw it into the herd. They all approached it, but were in denial that my offering was such a lame one so they kept looking for what I had really thrown. I chuckled and started to leave, but one persistent bird followed me for about 100M. I turned and said to it, "Are you serious?" and it stopped, drew its head back (in disgust I think) then shook its head and left me alone.
The waves were picking up momentum (I could hear them behind me) as if predicting the clouds rolling in over the mountains to the west. I took their cue and rushed back to my room.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
emacs broken again
I really wonder why every single Mac OS X update (10.4.5 this time) breaks my install of Emacs 22.0.50. I need to figure this out! I end up getting an EXEC_BAD_ACCESS exception on launch, and I think it has something to do with a libSystem that Apple likes to update frequently.
Following the Usual Procedure to install Emacs and AucTeX again, I learned that GNU has changed their repository to use pserver instead of ssh. Yay, it's faster to download now. The proper checkout procedure is now:
But I think the rest is the same.
Update:
Nope, I was wrong. make bootstrap fails:
Grr...
Update 2:
It fixed itself! This morning I decided to have another go, and did a cvs up in the emacs project dir... then ./mac/make-package --self-contained worked fine! Thanks GNU developers who updated stuff last night.
Following the Usual Procedure to install Emacs and AucTeX again, I learned that GNU has changed their repository to use pserver instead of ssh. Yay, it's faster to download now. The proper checkout procedure is now:
[sid@lappy] ~% cvs -z3 -d:pserver:anonymous@cvs.savannah.gnu.org:/sources/emacs co emacs
But I think the rest is the same.
Update:
Nope, I was wrong. make bootstrap fails:
/usr/bin/ld: Undefined symbols:
_xmalloc
_xrealloc
Grr...
Update 2:
It fixed itself! This morning I decided to have another go, and did a cvs up in the emacs project dir... then ./mac/make-package --self-contained worked fine! Thanks GNU developers who updated stuff last night.
tribute to a kookaburra
There's an old camp song about Kookaburras that I remember every time I hear one. I dedicate this verse to the dreadfully annoying bird:
If you've never had the joy of hearing one of these Australian jewels, follow this link and listen.
"Kookaburra sits in an old gum tree,
Laughing up a storm at ten past three.
Die, kookaburra, die, kookaburra,
I'm sleeping -- let me be."
If you've never had the joy of hearing one of these Australian jewels, follow this link and listen.
sandwich frenzy
Hm, the dates on my blog are still EST, or GMT-500. I'm in GMT+1100 right now, so they're wrong. It's Monday morning right now.
Anyhow, this morning was the first day of classes for the Uni. This means that everyone where I live decided to get up and catch the first shuttle in. Okay, here's the deal: breakfast opens at 7:30, and the shuttle leaves at 8:00. This means that everyone who could was frantically eating breakfast, making a sandwich for lunch, and attempting to catch the first shuttle of the day.
My leisurely sandwich-making ritual turned into a feeding frenzy today as approximately five million students swarmed around the sandwich-making stands in the dining room. Okay, maybe only 70, but the space is small, so it was intense. There was lettuce everywhere when it was over, and there were about 125 people packed onto the bus that normally seats 100.
Needless to say, my sandwich is not up to par today. I need to work on this.
Anyhow, this morning was the first day of classes for the Uni. This means that everyone where I live decided to get up and catch the first shuttle in. Okay, here's the deal: breakfast opens at 7:30, and the shuttle leaves at 8:00. This means that everyone who could was frantically eating breakfast, making a sandwich for lunch, and attempting to catch the first shuttle of the day.
My leisurely sandwich-making ritual turned into a feeding frenzy today as approximately five million students swarmed around the sandwich-making stands in the dining room. Okay, maybe only 70, but the space is small, so it was intense. There was lettuce everywhere when it was over, and there were about 125 people packed onto the bus that normally seats 100.
Needless to say, my sandwich is not up to par today. I need to work on this.
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