I thought the story was so cool when I saw it that I had to clip it electronically and review in detail. It was a candidate for yesterday’s story until I got off on other technologies that don’t deliver on what they promise. I suppose I should reserve judgment until the new washers and dryers are installed and hopefully operational.
The story I blew by yesterday is worth talking about today, though. Check this: an alleged senior Iranian nuclear scientist contacted some Black Hat cyber security guys to say that several computers activated themselves in the night, un-commanded, at the Natanz nuclear plant. The machines began to play the AC/DC arena rock anthem “Thunderstruck.”
You can imagine what the Iranian IT security folks thought about that, particularly after the STUXNET virus hosed up their uranium enrichment centrifuges.
I think ‘Thunderstruck’ is a great signature song for what is happening to the Iranians, particularly in light of the fact that the affected machines were running Siemens software. It is a curious thing.
What I think is working here is the demonstration of the follow-on, or companion to STUXNET, the “Flame” program. Flame was something special. It was a remote monitoring capability that could turn on microphones and cameras on target computers, log keystrokes, literally make the target computer a reporting sensor for a remote user.
If this Thunder program has been introduced with AC/DC tunes playing unbidden in the fastness of the Iranian nuclear program’s virtual privacy network, it indicates that someone now knows their fire-walled system as well as the owners do.
I would have little confidence that their IT will work the way it is intended to work when it counts- and perhaps that is the point of this (apparent) innocuous manifestation of continued infection. A sort of “Hi! Still here!” greeting to the scientific vanguard of the Shia Bomb.
Just a thought.
It is nice to get my eyes up off my little personal problems and look at things further away than where my cane is going. It was a scorcher of a day, but nice. I swam twice, and being concerned with the impending upgrade of the laundry rooms, I hobbled down the hall with my dirty clothes. I have tokens to burn, after all, and this marked another significant milestone.
In the earlier days of my incapacity as they served they purpose, and then nudging the full hamper atop my old-lady cart down the hall, poking with the crutches, or dragging the hamper behind me on one occasion with the crook of my cane.
That is an indication of how far this strange and private journey has gone. When the workday was done- I thought- I drove over to the Fort and hit the Commissary. It was a hundred degrees almost, and steamy. I put the groceries away before anything cooked by itself and encased a beef brisket in foil to slow cook overnight. Then I mixed a vodka tonic and sat down to make a last swipe through the office e-mail and close out the day.
I frowned. There was a tasker from some distant colleagues (different business group) to support a proposal they are doing, and they were wrapped pretty tight. I sighed and began to compile lists and write boilerplate language to support their efforts.
Anyway, the delay postponed my arrival at the pool until after eight. I swam with Jiggs, for a half hour and then returned to the unit semi-refreshed and aching. I ate the leftovers I had put in the skillet- out of the skillet- and realized if I tried to watch something on the television I would simply fall asleep there. I went back to the bedroom and took off the leg brace and got under the throw-blankets I have been using rather than the eiderdown in deference to the heat and humidity of the DC summer.
The phone rang, of course, and it was not the Blackberry next to me on the bed but the regular cell, which is the number on my business card. It was out by the computer in the living room. Crap.
I swung my naked legs out of the bed, glanced at the brace where it leaned against the tall white credenza, and shook my head. I rose, steadied myself and walked to the kitchen to get the phone. Then I walked back to bed and called back the people working on the proposal deep into the evening.
As I punched the buttons to dial back the last number, I realized I had walked upright and unaided for the first time since the accident in March. “Far out,” I thought, thunderstruck.
Walking is good. Maybe I will be able to walk to work this fall. I sure hope so. Where did the summer go? I picked up the iPad from where I had tossed it on the blanket. I clicked on the iTunes logo, and went to the music store.
For some reason, I thought I ought to have AC/DC on my playlist.
Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicscotra.com