Smokescreen for the Sheeple

If I could afford it, I'd buy crates and crates of Daniel Pennac's Au bonheur des ogres, and I'd distribute copies at the door of some department stores.

The novel has been translated - and I'm not going to spoil the plot, but let's say that the sheeple I've seen queueing (queueing!!!) to have security guys give a quick look at their bags' innards make me want to cry (and cuff them in the hope to kick-start their three brain cells).

That's Security theatre and smokescreen for sheeple. It's the Man wanting to cover his plump behind just in case the next batch of murderous plonkers take his store for target. *points at Mr Pennac's novel again*
It's the politicos wanting to be re-elected/elected/whatever/something and spreading fear because frightened sheeple are easier to control.
It's sheeple being afraid of their own shadows and surrendering freedom, democracy, and life itself in the faint hope that the bad guys won't hurt them. Maybe the worst guys won't get them (but no one can promise that), but the bad guys are all those bipeds grooming sheeple to surrender liberty in exchange for nothing - coz if the worst guys want to do some evil, guess what? They will; one way or the other.

Pay attention... yes.

But stop asking how far you must bend to please the manipulators.

I've seen what happened in the US. The country went from "only a police officer can legally touch you - if s/he's got some super valid reason or a warrant. Full stop" to "Allow a biped in a blue shirt to be more intimate with you than your last date. It's for your own good. If you mean to rebel, we'll detain you, make you miss your flight, spend hundreds or thousands of dollars - and you can't sue us, coz we're here to protect you from the bad guys, so shut up and don't mind the gloves (used on all the previous passengers, too, coz we're too cheap)".

I don't want that here.

I refuse to have that here.

I'll fight against that for as long as I can.

I pointed out to co-workers that some of the guards who are posted at our school's door touch what's inside some people's bags (which is, still for the moment, illegal: they can look all they want, they can't touch; only a police officer can - if s/he's got suspicions about an ongoing crime or a warrant). The brave guys told me to tell them. Tell them what? 'Hey, guys! You should have a word with whoever taught you because he was an idiot who could get you sued if you ruffle the feathers of the wrong person.' Something like that?

The men to whom I told that work more closely with these guards, and I thought they could have a quiet word with them (all the more since they agreed that touching someone else's property's illegal), but they don't want to make a fuss. They seemed to think that I was overreacting somehow and that I should let it go - to keep the peace, you know.

Next, my co-workers told me to not let the guards touch my belongings. Thanks, guys, but I do not (last time one tried to move his hand closer to the inside of my bag, I jumped backwards). I just don't want the guards to be in trouble the day they do that with someone who does know the law and who's ready to stand her or his ground, and who's got the money to sue.

I find it astounding and properly scary to see so many sheeple accepting what they're told without even checking that they're not being lied to.

- Spread your legs and bend over!

- But I just want to buy some carrots!

- Believe me, it's for your own good. It's for your protection.

- But...

- (losing patience) Obey me or I'll call the cops!!!!!

The worst guys must be rolling on the floor laughing madly. Alas.

Oh, I wish the sheeple would think and stop being afraid.

Merci Free !

Free est un très bon fournisseur... tant que vous n'avez pas de problème.

Si vous avez un problème, soudainement la main droite ne sait plus ce que fait le pied gauche (et ça, c'est la version polie et gentille).

Il y a quelques années, le transfo de la Freebox de ma cousine était grillé et il lui a fallu batailler et galérer afin qu'ils lui en envoient un neuf (sans le lui facturer !).

Aujourd'hui... un vrai festival !

Le 17 décembre, alors que Free (d'après ce que nous avons pu comprendre après avoir parlé à plus d'une demie douzaine d'esclaves de la hotline) changeait un serveur, des Russes ont profité d'une faille de sécurité pour voler des centaines de mots de passe (les bidules ne sont pas encryptés puisqu'ils nous arrivent en clair quand on demande leur renvoi par mail).

Du coup, un compte principal de la famille a été bloqué... et c'est là que commence le dialogue de sourds.

Le 17/12/15, le compte est piraté.

Le 18/12, la victime se rend compte qu'il y a un problème, mais comme le message d'erreur indique un problème de serveur, nous patientons.

Le 22/12, ma cousine et moi prenons les choses en main. Le 3244 nous annonce un énorme problème de serveur. Nous patientons encore.

Quelques coups de fils plus tard (plus au service commercial, mais directement au service technique), on nous apprend que le compte a été piraté et donc bloqué.

Que faire ? Depuis le changement de look du site de Free, le compte en question n'apparaît plus sur l'interface de gestion et, là, on nous dit que comme il s'agit d'un compte libre qui n'est pas rattaché à la nouvelle ligne ADSL (Purée ! C'est trop dur de programmer un message d'alerte quand l'e-mail de contact est en mode "électron libre") et comme la personne a déménagé, il faut envoyer une lettre recommandée avec accusé de réception expliquant le problème et deux justificatifs (domicile et identité) - alors que tous les conseillers à qui nous avons parlé peuvent voir l'identité de la victime et l'ancienne et la nouvelle adresse sur leurs ordinateurs (tous !!) - et ils pouvaient tous voir que nous téléphonions de la ligne qui avait un problème. 

Mais non... Il FAUT un courrier postal................

En 2015 (presque 2016 à ce moment-là).................

Pour récupérer un compte e-mail piraté parce que la sécurité de Free sur ses boites mails est pathétique........................

Alors qu'ils n'envoient pas de message d'alerte quand une activité suspecte est constatée sur un compte (enfin, sauf s'ils admettent qu'ils ont été piratés).........................................

Ben voyons !

Presque tous les conseillers ont été soit arrogants ("Mais vous ne comprenez pas, ma p'tite dame") ou encore plus paumés que nous.

Nous avons aussi tenté de contacter le "pied gauche" (le service tout puissant qui peut rétablir la situation - le SEUL service). Alors, je ne sais pas s'il y a juste un gars derrière cette adresse, mais il aura fallu neuf jours (c'est marrant, parce que certaines personnes sont aidées dans la journée) pour qu'on nous dise que le compte allait être débloqué le 01/01/16.

Youpi !

Sauf que... 

Le compte n'est toujours plus visible sur l'interface de gestion.

Que faire ?

Réponse de Free : Ben, un courrier postal avec une lettre expliquant le problème et les justificatifs adéquats. Of course.

Moi et ma cousine : têtes --> mur --> quelques grands coups

Le p'tit gars que ma cousine a eu au téléphone hier (Ah, ben oui, on n'est pas un peu têtues pour des prunes) l'a prise pour une tanche intergalactique de concours : quand une boite envoie du spam (ce que les Russes ont fait), c'est HADOPI qui bloque le compte.

Qui veut m'acheter le Pont Neuf ? Je promets que l'encre de l'acte de propriété sera sèche. Parole de scout (je n'ai jamais été scout).

Et là, aujourd’hui (10/01/16), nous tombons sur un gars qui nous propose d'envoyer la paperasse par... FAX ! Et si on leur téléphone dans la demie-heure après l'envoi du fax, ils pourront faire réapparaître le compte sur l'interface, et là, nous pourrons récupérer le mot de passe changé par les pirates et de nouveau avoir le contrôle du compte.

On va tenter le coup...

... mais s'il nous a prises pour des truites, ça va saigner.

Mise à jour du 21/01/16 :
Nous avons envoyé un fax avec toute la paperasse le 12 dans l'après-midi et comme indiqué par le p'tit gars du dimanche, nous avons téléphoné trente minutes après l'envoi... et une gentille dame nous a dit qu'elle ne pouvait rien faire, que le service qui reçoit les fax allait nous répondre... OK, merci, M'dame...

Alors...
Le fax est soit-disant arrivé illisible ("Renvoyez-nous votre courrier par voie postale, en recommandé, avec AR") et le p'tit gars du dimanche, qui devait nous rappeler le vendredi 15 si le problème n'était toujours pas réglé a disparu dans le cyber-espace. Of course.
Mais, pas de panique, nous renvoyons un n-ième SOS au service tout puissant qui, ô miracle, procède au changement d'adresse, nous demandons le renvoi du mot de passe - par courrier postal puisqu'il s'agit d'un compte principal et........... ça met une semaine à nous envoyer le bidule.
Le mot de passe nous permet de reprendre le contrôle du compte en changeant le mot de passe des Russes (ou changé par Free - 'stère et boules de gommes).
Tout va bien donc.... Heu, ben, non... Au moment de rattacher cette vieille adresse e-mail, le site de Free annonce qu'il existe des comptes secondaires (au pluriel !!!) qu'il faut d'abord rattacher au compte avant de pouvoir faire la même chose avec le compte principal. Ouaip. A un détail près... Quels comptes secondaires ?
Même la hotline de Free est paumée. Ils viennent de refiler notre bébé à un service de niveau supérieur qui va nous téléphoner..................... un jour. Oh, et il faut que ce soit sur un portable (heureusement que j'ai pu prêter le mien à ma cousine qui n'en a pas !!) autrement vous pouvez allez au cœur du Sahara - sans eau.

Nous procéderons à une dernière mise à jour quand le problème sera définitivement réglé et nous posterons cette entrée de parcours du combattant en mode "les procédures de Free sont archaïques et punissent le client, même si Free est en tort".

Mise à jour du 22/01/2016 :
Nous sommes retournées sur la page qui nous avait permis de modifier le mot de passe du compte piraté et là... il y a un truc du genre "afficher vos coordonnées et comptes secondaires". *clic* Et là... Ah! Nous trouvons un compte secondaire. Un compte qui a plus de quinze ans, qui a dû servir cinq minutes et qui n'a plus jamais été utilisé depuis (là, nous avions Hotel California dans la tête : You can check out any time you want, but you can never leave !!).
Nous avons rattaché ce compte fantôme et le compte principal - et le super service de Free n'a toujours pas téléphoné.

Si vous n'avez besoin de rien, vous êtes tout de suite servi. Merci Free !

PS: on les aime bien. Si, si... sauf en cas de problème... où l'usage de poupées vaudou devient carrément tentant.

Imperial Decree #1

Since we are the empress of Mars, we could as well add a few rules to our empire, and share them with you.

You're welcome to adopt them if you ever find them to your taste.

In our world, these decrees will be the Law from the moment we publish them.

Since last year, we've lost too many artists dear to us, and, in one case, our heart will remain broken until our last breath.

We do not need to go visit Bedlam.

We do not need pills or drugs or treatment.

Thank you.

We're not asking anyone to give us permission to grieve in a nutty way (you do whatever you want with your incarnation; we do whatever we want with ours - full stop).

From now on:

Art1. We won't use the past to talk about someone who's no longer on planet Earth if it hurts too much.

In order to feed that illusion:

Art 2. The people who have left us went to a secret island where they're all working on secret projects. These projects will never be available in our lifetime, and therefore these secrets will forever remain mysteries.

I know it's properly barmy (all the more since I'm a nullifidian!), but it's either a secret island with artists working on secret creations or I keep crying the seven seas and all the rivers if I acknowledge the fact that the lights of my heroes are disappearing.

I know they're gone, but my dream/plot bunny/illusion/lie/coping mechanism/security blanket is easier to face... 

They're all working on something big, they share cocktails all together at 7PM as the sun sets on the purest and most beautiful sea in the universe.
Too bad there's no reception and no Internet there, right?

Quick Art News Update

It turns out that my idea for my paintings is very good. However, I completely underestimated the time I'd need to finish just one, and I'm going to need a lot more time to have something to show you here.

The thing is I'm using something that's got one element that's drying very slowly. The first test is looking great; it's fully done, but I can't move it (and even less hang it).

I'll share the unusual "framing" with you as soon as possible (but between chemistry that's not on my side and the weather that's not helping... it'll be a few weeks in fact).

Incompetence or Complete Lack of Respect?

I just cannot decide.

I'm still growling about the hacked e-mail account (check a few of my previous posts - the list's beginning to be too long to add all the links).

I'm monitoring a forum where other victims are sending flares and SOS, and the common theme is that the provider doesn't know what the left foot's doing whilst the right hand is flailing madly... and you get help if you're lucky (there was one gal who got her account back within a day whilst others are still waiting after over a month - and her case was similar to others; she just got lucky!!).

As well, what I particularly love is the tech bipeds who take me for the village idiot when I point out that they have everything they need to know to whom the account belongs on file and it's idiotic to ask for a snail-mail letter to prove what they already have.

They can be patronizing. Some lie, as well (the last one I talked to yesterday afternoon spinned me a lie that I'm not planning to swallow peacefully: I'm phoning them again tomorrow, and I'll be the one serving them that lie to see what someone else will say about it).

Sometimes, they slip and they tell the truth: they were changing a server when hackers used a security gap to steal clients' passwords. Because they store their password without encryption, and because they were hacked, hundreds of customers have lost their primary accounts.

Since that provider only uses one password without any additional security, the hackers could plunder the accounts that are now blocked (or are they?). There's no warning either; the provider sees spam being sent, they block your account; contact the faithful, paying customers?? Nooooo!

Many accounts were created back when that company was starting, and when they expended, they forgot to ask the customers to change the status of these accounts. The provider's new website ignored all these accounts, so when the hacking happened, there was no way to try to get them back, but, hey! It's the customers' fault. They should all have a PhD in IT! Sheesh!!

In the meantime, the helpline bipeds are unhelpful, arrogant, unpleasant, and incompetent, and they lie (I'm not even sure their "Hello!" is sincere).

Yes, that provider is cheap, but when you have a tiny problem (or a big one), you can go frell yourself slowly.

Maybe they work with Big Pharma, and they want us to invest in some strong antidepressant.

What's for sure is that they recruited good lil' golems who obey their masters and who've got a black hole between the ears!

I'm not done with them.

I'm not planning to lose that war... but, fuck! These wankers are a bloody waste of time (and oxygen).

A Spot of Art News

No, not about the plot bunnies. though I can tell you that they're all healthy.

As well, the publishing triumvirate I joined is steadily moving towards the official launch of our business and website (I'll brag about it when everything's online).

Today... I'm here to talk about my paintings.

I'm not about to start working on a new one, but I've found a way to have them ready to hang that doesn't involve a frame...

Mysterious enough?

Are you intrigued?

If you are nodding in front of your screen, thank you. I'll keep you posted, and I'll show you as soon as possible. I started working on one painting, but it'll only be ready to hang about next week.

My idea isn't that extraordinary, but it definitely solved the issues I had with potential frames.

You'll see...

Gibbs-smackworthy

It's only been a day, and I'm not convinced about 2016...

I had to block a denialist on Twitter: it was trying to convince me that even the American soldiers knew that the Korean (and Japanese, as well) girls actually enslaved for sex (for whatever reasons) were just prostitutes. Well, in my book, when you're sold for money, you become a slave.

It's the second time that happens to me. What's frightening is that these illiterate, truth-denying trolls are quite young, and if you confront them with facts, they become aggressive. Swell.

As well, the e-mail saga goes on.

A gal on a forum was told that the provider was hacked (the stored passwords are not encrypted!), but they put the blame on the victims.

We're going to try to find a biped with more than three brain cells between the ears, coz they've got all our info on file, and someone with a brain - and not afraid of using it! - could solve this in two minutes. We got a message informing us that the account would be unblocked ("and please change your password as quickly as possible"), but they deleted that account from the main account page when they modified their website's layout so we can't access it!

Honestly, I want to ship someone in space without a suit.