At Mike Lietz’s mention of the OLF session on using Linux with robots, I let slip the fact that I dislike robots. Really, I hadn’t thought about it much before that very moment, but the more I consider it, the more I hold it to be true.
I have fond memories of robots as a child. My 2-XL robot was one of my prized possessions. But 2-XL wasn’t a robot. He was an 8-track player in the shape of a robot. And this is where my journey into robot bait-and-switch starts.
On Sunday, I drove to Harrisburg to meet up with Ryan Duff at the Central Pennsylvania Open Source Convention. This was their first event, covering all sorts of interesting Open Source topics.
Of the six sessions I attended - a packed day - only two were really not of too much interest to me. That’s a pretty good ratio in general, and I suppose that had I chosen to go to other sessions during those time slots instead, I would have had more interest.
It was bound to happen to Habari eventually, right? And in the dark recesses of my mind, I’m happy for two reasons. First because at last we merit inspection by “security consultants”. Second because we are staffed well enough to have addressed the issue within a reasonable amount of time. But some questions have arisen about how to handle security announcements, and there are distinct sides on the issues.
People are going to publish security notices about your software whether you want them to or not. Sometimes there is altruism at work - people want others to know that something is unsafe. Sometimes it’s open malice - people sharing secrets of how to exploit software for their own malicious uses. In either case, as a software author, you can’t control what people say about you, and specifically what exploits in your software they expose to the world. So in the end, security exploits result in more spin control than controlling the information.
While reading an old Entertainment Weekly magazine earlier today I discovered something I didn’t know about that Janet Jackson Superbowl nipple slip debacle.
As you will recall, a couple of years ago MTV was put in charge of the Superbowl halftime show, and they presented some crazy spectacle involving Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson. In what would later be referred to as a “wardrobe malfunction”, Timberlake removed part of Jackson’s costume revealing parts that aren’t fit for prime time public television.
Whether the incident was planned or accidental isn’t material to this topic, although I will say that I’m in the camp of those who are all for nudity on the public airwaves provided that there is some way to determine what shows to avoid watching if your preference is not to be shocked by seeing a half second of exposed female breast. Regardless, CBS, the network that aired the game and halftime show, was fined something like $500,000 by the government for the public’s exposure to indecency.
What’s interesting – or disturbing, depending on how you look at it – is that until I read this small blurb in the legal news column tucked away in the front of the Entertainment Weekly, I did not know that a federal court in Philadelphia had revoked this fine, saying that the network couldn’t be held responsible for this accidental incident on live TV.
Alex and I have been going back and forth in comments over the areas of our interest that overlap. In his recent post, he asks, “how long can organic communities self-moderate?”
I admit that I haven’t read the Starfish and the Spider, although I did just one-click it into my Kindle, so it’s doomed to suffer my analysis. Nevertheless, I had some comments about how leaderless organizations can thrive, particularly in open source communities, of which I happen to be a part of a couple.