Fighting for the Survival of the Internet and Consequently Modern Society

Mark Bowden has established himself as a high caliber non-fiction writer with numerous articles and book titles that include Black Hawk Down and Killing Pablo. This work has earned him many awards including being a finalist for the National Book Award for Black Hawk Down and the Philadelphia inquirer says, “When Mark Bowden writes, smart readers pay attention…” With this reputation I realized that I was going to be in for an interesting read when I picked up Worm: The First Digital World War. But I hadn’t realized just how interesting it was going to be.

I chomped through this book in a day and my dishes remained unwashed. I couldn’t stop because this is an eye-opening look into the war that has been raging under our fingertips without the world at large knowing about it. The war is cybercrime. The end goal? Making your computer a zombie that has been enslaved to a botmaster that will employ your computer to send spam. Or steal your personal information and bank codes. Or use the combined might of your computer and the thousands of others under his control to cripple and/or destroy a network of computers that runs a company, corporation, governmental agency, or even a military organization.

That’s a lot of possibilities.

All of these scenarios are possible because of our modern day infrastructure that relies so heavily on digital devices to keep our lives running smoothly and the Internet that connects them all. With enough digital power behind him, in the form of a large botnet under his command, a skilled botmaster could wreak all of that havoc. In fact, there are two even more heinous acts a botmaster could do with his horde of zombies. The first is to crash the vital infrastructure of a country so that its people would be without power, water, phones, ecommerce, or traffic control. The loss of life and property from such an attack would be devastating, but if someone had a large enough botnet they could crash the big kahuna of the globe. The Internet.

If the Internet went down, the vital infrastructure for every modern country would come to a grinding halt.

To do this, it would take a botnet that’s millions of zombies strong. The likelihood of such a botnet being formed was very slim considering most botnets reach a cap of several hundred thousand. Unfortunately in December of 2008, a worm, or self-propagating program that creates botnets, called Conficker came onto the digital scene. In one month Conficker zombified over a million computers, evading the efforts of the entire computer security world, and by the end of March 2009 had infected over 8 million computers.

The rapid spread of Conficker got the immediate attention of a small group of elite members of the cyber community. Initially their efforts against Conficker was their individual and piecemeal, but eventually their work brought them together into a working group dubbed ‘The Cabal’. This group then works to trace the origins of the worm, limit the massive damage the worm could cause, and seize the attention of The US Government before the botmaster decided to become a multibillionaire through spam and cyber theft, or bring the global community to its knees.

To relate this account to a general audience, Worm details the inner workings of computer software, malware, and the Internet with highly understandable descriptions and examples. Then to add a human element to this otherwise cerebral battle, Worm also relates the varied and memorable individual stories of The Cabal’s members before dealing with Conficker.

If you want to get the details of how this story unfolds, I would highly recommend purchasing a copy of Worm: The First Digital World War.

The Perfect Storm, The Perfect Reader

The Perfect Reader: Deconstructing and Reconstructing the college student inclusive of Sebastian Junger’s The Perfect Storm: A True Story of Men Against the Sea.

The Prefect Storm: A True Story of Men Against the Sea is heralded as a three-year placeholder in the New York Times bestsellers, splashed across the L.A. Times and Entertainment Weekly, even so far as to have a movie based off the book. Junger himself is noteworthy: not only do his journals have the limelight in many popular journals, but he has proven he can pull off journalism with all the trappings of a curious fiction.

. . .Wait, non-fiction? That must be a typo. My history book was rarely interesting, much less dramatic.

No, it’s actually well researched.  In The Perfect Storm, he delights is exploring nautical history from the earliest explorers to the nineteen seventies. He entertains in everything from stranded Frenchmen-turned-murderers and ice machines to relatable love stories. And they’re all factual.

How is this so? The book is centered on the fishing industry of eastern United States, providing in-depth research of many topics and wrapping it together with the survivors’ account. Not only is the book about the six men who are lost forever, but about the families, wives, friends, and community that shares a burden if proofless death.

The book has a decidedly hands-off approach: the reader is greeted with a spectral forewarning as the author questions, probes – “How do men act in a sinking ship?”

 Rewind the clock; land-bound fishermen are equated to the miner and the philanthropist, switching focus to the main crew of the Andrea Gail. Then about the gears and methodology of the ship. Inherently, Junger pits nature against man. “You’re not buying fish,” the saying goes, “you’re buying fisherman’s lives.”

This cycle continues throughout, keeping many levels of storytelling viable to different readers. Personal and interpersonal relations are incongruent at best: while the book intimately relates the doomed sentiment among the men, they trudge on. They cannot abandon their fellow men, and they cannot abandon money’s stability for personal safety.

Tantamount to the novel, the author delves deeper into the biology and mechanics of the people. It is not enough to imply fishermen know how drowning happens: Junger juggernauts off into a study about the stages of drowning, the biological systems that “shut off” water from the trachea, and the eventual feeling of water entering the lungs in a final gasp.

As Junger pens his final pages, the audience is destitute – yes, we knew the ship was doomed from the moment the first sentence was read.  As the memory of the men is put to rest in one character after another, we are left to smooth over their pictures. Yes, they are real; to the mother who had to believe her son was dead, to the woman who can no longer marry her fisherman, and the wife who may never see her husband again.

. . .

however. . .

. . .this is my immediate reaction to all things Junger, especially The Perfect Storm.

Indeed, his customers on Amazon rate him with an impressive four out of five stars, with a 46% backing of purely positive commentary against the neutral reviews (33%), and the negative reviews (21%). Certainly, Junger has plenty of clout among the literate community. This includes everything from Entertainment Weekly’s “Guaranteed to blow readers away. . . A+,” to Christian Science Monitor’s formulaic praise of The Perfect Storm coupled with an ad demanding “ARE YOU AS WELL READ [sic] AS A 10TH GRADER?”

Putting aside Entertainment Weekly and Christian Science Monitor, what about the average aficionado? What if we don’t absorb our media from National Public Radio’s journals or Charles Dickens’ family lives? How can the dubious bachelor know a book is for them with just a plethora of positive feedback?

Let’s get into the dirty laundry, shall we?

Keeping true to historical accuracy, Junger writes without quotation marks:

“[. . .] we took one hell of a wave, Billy says.”

Which makes the book a pseudo-dream, complete with lurid conceptions in a third-person omniscient view, gears and mechanisms tying down the reader akin to what the bedraggled King Triton probably feels as another ship clutters his kingdom.

But, the author relies on supposition when the Andrea Gail is lost at sea, only giving shaky validation for his thoughts based on what other ships did. How can that be nonfiction?

True, out of all the scenarios, the author goes for the belief Andrea chose to face the storm after sailing home, instead of edging around the storm or trying to get back to open sea or countless other options. Junger’s a historian-eating troll: the rarest of the rare.

Keeping his troll-y goodness about him, Junger writes the book with a friendly first few pages, delving into each character and giving slight background about them. Easy, right? But wait! Don’t forget about the details of the ship. What was that about the boat under new management? Why is the Eishin 29 included in a laundry list of boats? Doesn’t seem particularly memorable.

(fast forward a handful of pages)

What was that boat, again? Why is a Japanese boat in Maryland and why does only one member speak English?

For all my readers who’ve read The Scarlet Letter, parallels can be drawn from the disgruntled collapse when the book is over, to the discussion that brings a sudden realization of genius.

Even more simply, Sebastian Junger’s nerdy. . . REALLY nerdy. Like that one person in every class who has the professor constantly reiterate the necessity of their lesson plan. While we all have certain soft spots for knowledge, reading The Perfect Storm can be a page-a-night ordeal, especially for college students who are required to read a book about fishing. On the positive side, it could probably stop a particularly loud intercourse with the sea-worthy monotony displayed every few paragraphs.

. . .So, on behalf of overwhelmed readers across the globe. . . you conniving trickster, Sebastian Junger. Not one single sub-par review from a major company, yet achingly difficult to read. I can only find grim humor in my own scribble’s publishing. Within this welcomed scrutiny, however, I hope I have equivocally shown the spirit of the book beyond lifeless praise and selfish criticism.

Away! Away. I shall have little to do with the affairs of others, be they immortalized shipmen or the weary undead.

Safe Area Gorazde

Author and illustrator, Joe Sacco's a pretty cool dude. Joe's worn many hats throughout the course of his life: traveler of the world, writer of words, illustrator of comics. He's been writing and illustrating nonfiction stories for years, which includes but is not limited to Palestine, Oregon, and The Fixer. In addition to his work, he'd done illustrations a number of times for the American Splendor before the late Harvey Pekar passed. Joe had a different kind of childhood from you and I because he grew up in the rather primitive nation of Malta. Malta's a small island in the mediterranean southeast of Sicily. It's way smaller then Sicily but it's a country with a heritage and language all it's own. I didn't Google that, I'm 50% Maltese. He grew up and experienced the world, including Gorazde, an eastern Bosnian city. He was 39 at the time of publication of the story. He's 51 now and lives in Portland. This is the review of Safe Area Gorazde. Let's go. 

Safe Area Gorazde is part of a massively refreshing genre sometimes known as graphic journalism, which reminds the world that putting pictures and words together is incredibly effective, and not just for tights-and-capes stories. Fans of texts like Persepolis and Maus are sure to enjoy it. It allows the reader to immersively experience another culture. 

Joe Sacco's writing is simple. It's mostly first person narration, which is essentially what just about all of non-fiction writing is except this has pictures. "The Bosnian Serb military commander, General Ratko Mladie, cut off routes into Sarajevo and took hostage scores of U.N. personnel throughout Bosnia." It's alright that this wording is simplisitc because the visual style of storytelling allows him to just show us the settings and events as they unfold. It results in a reading experience that's fast paced and easily perceivable. Joe's illustrations of course come with the quintessential comic convention of speech bubbles which allow for quick snippets of dialogue and quotes. Overall, Joe's use of the medium is massively effective. Nice job, Joe. 

In Safe Area Gorazde, Joe combines the interviews of a number of Bosniaks as they deal with the political crisis with the Serbians. Joe remains objective and recounts their stories, though he interjects throughout the course of the book with moments of his own opinions and experiences. 

Overall, Joe Sacco: good guy, good writer. You don't do this kind of thing for twenty years without knowing what your doing. Joe's been doing this kind of thing for over 24 years, starting in 1988 at the age of 28. He's got 8 collections, all in a similar vein, illustrated journalism dealing with political issues. Check them out. Check him out. Read Safe Area Gorazde. 

Blankets: An Interrogation

The following interrogation has been declassified by the Central Intelligence Agency and made accessible to the public.

Report #nnnn337, Classification B24

September 5, 2012

Subject: “Blankets by Craig Thompson”

Staff Agent: Andrew Rhoades

[The subject is sitting in a rusty black chair facing away from me. We have taken the legs off of the seat because we thought it would be funny. The room is in complete darkness except for my awesome light-up-Sketchers that I recently acquired at a CIA surplus garage sale, and I am slowly walking towards the prisoner, case folder in hand. I grab the hanging lamp and aim the light directly at the chair.]

Well, Mr. “by Craig Thompson”, if that is your real name, it is time we had our little chat.

[The subject does not respond]

Let’s start from the beginning. [I flip the folder open and chuckle] Here are the facts: you tell a story about a young man named Craig that grows up in a poor, fundamentalist Christian family in rural Wisconsin, to later experience his first love and break from religion. Sounds pretty mediocre. But here’s the thing. [I edge closely to the chair and whisper] The whole thing is a autobiographical cartoon strip. You might want to think about losing some weight, not that I really care, but 500 pages? A comic book? That’s just crazy talk. [I spin the chair around so I can face him cover to face] I want you to look at some crime scene photos and tell me what you think.

You don’t fool me, Blankets – can I call you Blankets? – you don’t fool me, not with your surreal art style or your interior reflection on Craig Thompson's emotions, aspirations and fears. No, I’m not even fooled by the poetry style of your language that you infuse with dialogue and Bible excerpts. I could take any piece of narration and put it in a poetry format:

“I heard Raina’s breathing

and beneath that, her heart beating,

and beyond that, the gentle murmur of spirits in the room.

I could even hear the snow falling outside,

and the sounds wove into a rhythm of hushed orchestration,

spiraling me into slumber.”

This whole “multimedia style” you have going on, with your mixture of art, poetry, and memoir, it’s beautiful, but you give too much away about your master Craig Thompson; his honesty is brutal and intimate, like the secrets only a good friend would tell you. [I grab the book and shake it] But tell me about the plot! What even is going on?!

[I put the book back down and put on a Dodgers baseball cap.] Wow, Rhoades, you’ve taken this too far. Go take a coffee break. 

[I remove the cap] You bleeding heart cop, you'll never get him to talk. [I turn to the book] I’ll be back for you. 

[I put the cap back on] Sorry about that, Blankets. Would you like some water? No? Okay, now I want to help you- I can’t protect you from my partner all day. What I need is some information. What specifically happened to this “Craig” that even makes us care in the first place? Let’s pretend that I don’t know all about him from my thorough Wikipedia search, how he’s a 36-year-old graphic novelist that’s written 4 books and paid the bills by drawing cartoons for National Geographic Kids, OWL, and Nickelodeon while he wrote you. No, I want to know about his cartoon persona. C’mon, help me out here.

[The book coughs] Okay, I’ll tell you. It all starts out with Craig as a child and his relationship with his younger brother Phil as they share a bed. The two do not always get along, but they both embrace drawing as a form of escape and always end up snuggling in blankets in the bitter winter, even after they get separate beds.

As Phil and Craig get older and drift apart, Craig goes to a Christian camp, where he meets a girl named Raina, who is just as lonely to be there as he is. Camp ends, letters are exchanged, and Craig goes to live with Raina for a couple of weeks in the wintertime. Raina’s parents are in the middle of a divorce, so she is set to take care of her two mentally handicapped siblings. The two share a blanket at night that Raina made from her baby blanket, until morning, where Craig sneaks back into his room. The two fall deep into teenage love, where Craig starts to come to terms with his obsessions with God and Raina. Although the two become very close over the two weeks, the relationship does not hold up in the long distance. Craig moves away to go to art college, where he can reminisce with his younger brother about their early days and come to terms with his new lack of faith in God. 

He is able to look back on his childhood and be thankful that he was able to leave such a mark on a blank surface, like footprints in the snow.

Aah, another thing I noticed was the reoccurring motif of the blanket patterns throughout the book, even before Raina is introduced. I also enjoyed the parallels between Craig sharing a bed with his brother as a child and Craig sharing a bed with Raina as he slips into romantic insanity.  It all ties up the title image in a way that makes the whole book seem like a loving reflection on life, love, and growing up. 

What? Don’t you work for the CIA?

Oh don’t mind me; before I worked for the government, I was an English student. Now tell me, how do you fit in? Who are your accomplices?

I guess there isn’t a lack of autobiographical comics on the market, but I’m different. There’s a reason that The New York Times listed me as the #1 graphic novel of 2003 and that I received numerous awards throughout the year. 

[I take my cap off] 

New York Times? Those liberal Pinko Commies? Gross. Now who are your accomplices?

Marjane Satrapi’s novel “Persepolis”  and Raina Telgemeier’s webcomic “Smile” are also quite renowned in the comic world and exhibit a similar narrative style. You should check them out if you enjoyed reading me.

I did not. I only read obituaries and cookbooks. In fact, I think I’ve gotten all the information I can out of you. Farewell, Mr. by Craig Thompson. Good luck in Guantanamo.

//Out of character now, real thoughts and feelings:

I was afraid that this story was going to be one of those sappy teen love stories, but I was wrong. The book is so lovingly genuine that I can’t help but moved by it. So far, I've read it three times (it's a quick read) and each time I notice something different in the pictures, some little detail that comes to describe Craig in a way that makes me understand and root for him. The dialogue is almost unreal how amazing it is; it could make a very tight movie script if it was converted to the big screen, but even if it was, it would lose some of the power that the novel has. Its themes of faith, romance, and confusion of youth blend so well into the fabric of Blankets that it becomes an instant classic, the kind of art that can only exist in comic form. I personally have not been a fan of the genre in the past, but this story has changed my mind, and perhaps I will find myself seeking out more graphic novels in the future (not necessarily super hero books, but more stuff like this). I would recommend this book to everyone. Anyone who’s ever been stupidly in love or has experienced the well-intentioned cruelty of parents can find something to hold onto with Blankets. It’s the kind of book that you pass around to your friends because it drives you crazy to experience it alone. Blankets is the real deal; it’s funny, horrifying, thought-provoking, and just overall impressive. The art is wonderful, the prose poetic, and it has that special something that makes you want to go play in the snow and fall in love.

The Partly Cloudy Patriot

The Partly Cloudy Patriot - Sarah Vowell

"The best the slaughtered can usually hope for is a cameo in some kind of art. Mostly, we need a Guernica to remind us of Guernica."

"I remember seeing an interview with him on TV, it might have been a Nova episode on global warming in the mid-eighties. It was basically the first time I had ever heard of global warming. And Gore was the young senator from Tennessee. He very articulately explained what politics is. Politics is people worrying about next year and right now. The problem you have when the more you know about global warming as a politician is the more you realize you can’t do anything with it. Experts bombard you with cold, hard facts about what’s going to happen fifteen years from now. You look at your children. You know they’re going to be living in that world. You can see the train coming down the track. Gore said one of the most frustrating things is that you can’t run on that because the public is not interested in wisdom and the public is not wise. The public is actually reactive. So unless you can create is as a scenario that’s going to work for them right now, it’s just something you have to do behind the scenes. You have to figure out how to sell your idea to people within the system.”

“In the first day or two [after 9/11] the flags were plastered everywhere, seeing them was heartening because they indicated that we’re all in this sorrow together. The flags were purely emotional. Once we went to war, once the president announced that we were going to retaliate against the ‘evildoers,’ then the flag again represented what it usually represents, the government. I think that’s when the flags started making me nervous."

"The more history I learn, the more the world fills up with stories. Just the other day, I was in my neighborhood Starbucks, waiting for the post office to open. I was enjoying a chocolatey café mocha when it occurred to me that to drink a mocha is to gulp down the entire history of the New World. From the Spanish exportation of Aztec cacao, and the Dutch invention of the chemical process for making cocoa, on down to the capitalist empire of Hershey, PA, and the lifestyle marketing of Seattle’s Starbucks, the modern mocha is a bittersweet concoction of imperialism, genocide, invention, and consumerism served with whipped cream on top. No wonder it costs so much. And, thanks to Sophie and Michael Coe’s book The True History of Chocolate, I remembered that cacao beans were used as currency at the moment of European contact. When Christopher Columbus’s son Ferdinand captured a Mayan canoe in 1503, he noticed that whenever one of the natives dropped a cacao bean, ‘they all stooped to pick it up, as if an eye had fallen.’ When you know such trivia, an act as mundane as having an overpriced breakfast drink becomes imbued with meaning, even poetry. Plus, I read a women’s magazine article called ‘5 Fabulous Morning Rituals,’ and it said that after you ‘bask in bed’ and ‘walk in nature’ you’re supposed to ‘ponder the sins of the conquistadors.’"

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running - Haruki Murakami

“I’m struck by how, except when you’re young, you really need to prioritize in life, figuring out in what order you should divide up your time and energy. If you don’t get that sort of system set by a certain age, you’ll lack focus and your life will be out of balance. I placed the highest priority on the sort of life that lets me focus on writing, not associating with all the people around me. I felt that the indispensable relationship I should build in my life was not with a specific person, but with an unspecified number of readers. As long as I got my day-to-day life set so that each work was an improvement over the last, then many of my readers would welcome whatever life I chose for myself. Shouldn’t this be my duty as a novelist, and my top priority?”

“…I don’t think it’s merely willpower that makes you able to do something. The world isn’t that simple. To tell the truth, I don’t even think there’s that much correlation between my running every day and whether or not I have a strong will. I think I’ve been able to run for more than twenty years for a simple reason: It suits me."

“The funny thing is, no matter how much experience I have under my belt, no matter how old I get, it’s all just a repeat of what came before. I think certain types of processes don’t allow for any variation. If you have to be part of that process, all you can do is transform—or perhaps distort—yourself through that persistent repetition, and make that process a part of your own personality.”

The Age of Virtual Reproduction

The Age of Virtual Reproduction - Spring Ulmer

“If [Walter] Benjamin, whose death remains inseparable from the Holocaust, inhabited the age of mechanical reproduction, an age in which art and writing were becoming less esoteric and ritualistic and more political and available to a larger public, but simultaneously ever more endangered by fascist co-opting, I embody the age of virtual reproduction, an age not so different from Benjamin’s, except that today’s dissemination of cultural products happens more rapidly and is more far-reaching, and the language that must be wrested back from military and capitalist co-opting is no longer German, but English. Mine is an age in which, arguably, it is more responsible to birth neither book nor baby. It is an age in which we are alienated not just from our work, but from almost everything, not excluding the environment around us, our friends, families, and selves.”

“What’s a quote of a quote? a friend’s son asked me at one of my Benjamin’s Spectacles readings, after I’d spoken about how I quote from Walter Benjamin’s book of quotes, The Arcades, in my book. I didn’t know enough then to say what I’ve since determined would have been the best reply: Why, a quote of a quote is a twice intensified return to words that have been broken from their original contexts! Pulled that far out from where they originally belonged, a quote of a quote is a kind of stretch-marked language. Have you see those lines on your mother’s stomach? It is like that certain proof of passage.

          Instead, I fumbled about on stage, taken aback by such a real question.”