kafkaestblog

A Change of Lifestyle Thanks to a Computer Hack

As far as I know, I clicked on a link to a site about Optical Illusions.

That froze my computer with a screen-sized warning, telling me that I had been hacked, and infected with a Trojan Horse Virus. The warning purported to be from Microsoft, and gave a phone number to call. There was no other avenue to follow, nothing to click on. I was also warned not to turn off the computer. But, with nothing else to do, I turned off the computer.

Two or three minutes later I turned the computer back on and the frozen screen was still there. Since I was not clicking anything on the screen (being unable to do so anyway), I called the number. I have since found out that 805 phone numbers are a favorite of scams.

At any rate, the situation on the other end of the call sounded exactly like the call centers which phone me for the usual scams. A jumble of background noises and voices that sound as if the people are in a huge warehouse. I questioned the authenticity of the situation with the speaker immediately. The proof he offered was for me to hang up and he would call right back. Which, of course, proved nothing.

So, after a couple of minutes of this, I hung up and I turned off the computer. I phoned my computer shop. I was told I was hacked and to bring in the machine.

And thus, three days later, I have a cleansed machine, information about hacks I did not know, and the news that even my computer expert has been hacked (once by going to a story in The Guardian Newspaper). He also told me that had I waited a day, the screen would have unfrozen on its own, but I would not know if something had been downloaded into my computer.

So, here I am, with everything seemingly fine.

But, in those three days with no internet access, I started reading novels again. I picked out two (yes, this is true) from one of those small “Free Library” box/houses where folk can drop off books they have read, and exchange – all free. I took a JohnleCarré novel (one of my favorite writers) which I probably read twenty years ago [Absolute Friends] and a Joanna Trollope novel, an author I have wanted to read for twenty years [Other People’s Children].

I have read 15 pages a day, of each one, since. I will continue after I post this.

Gotta say, it feels good to be back reading novels. And I will restrict my roaming time in the internet.

03/18/2022 0

Commander-in-Chief Putin Needs All of His Masks To (Perhaps) Survive

I have updated this post from an earlier year, by making a number of cuts, and changing the name of the character to Putin. Waste not, want not. I believe this character remains suitably ridiculous, but is now dangerous beyond my imagination.

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Commander-in-Chief Putin decided it would be a grand day to become Admiral of the Fleet – Lord High Admiral, if he chose the hat with cockade and plume.

The plume put on an impressive display, as he either agreed (or disapproved) with a toss (or a shake) of his head. The dancing ostrich feathers would add a dashing air as he boarded his flagship. He would, of course, be extra careful about the pitfalls awaiting a small man, with ornate dress sword and scabbard, among the steep steps and narrow companionways.

Wednesday is khaki day for Commander-in-Chief Putin.

It was the day set aside to remind him of the loyalty he must always retain from his men. What is a leader without his troops? As a treat – for really, dull brown did not make a striking appearance – he would choose the tank commander’s uniform.

With its wide web belt and shiny black holster on the hip, the flap unsnapped, to reveal the butt of a MP-443 Grach, or “Rook”. And black leather gloves.. And a steel helmet polished to a mirror-shine.

The riding crop? Ah, the riding crop was debatable.

Today Commander-in-Chief Putin will have a parade.

Massed men at attention with stiffly-held rifles and fixed bayonets.

Commander-in-Chief Putin would have to choose carefully. to represent his awesome power and responsibility. Cavalry boots are a must, raising half-way up the calf, resounding with silver spurs, steel-tipped toes and elevated heels.

Then would come crisp black trousers, billowing majestically around the thighs, kept up with a wide leather belt. He took care that each red stripe reaching the length of each leg was as straight as an arrow.

His blue tunic, he decided, would have only muted decorations, with the minimum of gold braid entwined about his shoulders. He is – after all – a fighting general.

03/12/2022 0

The Biggest Crow In Christendom Lands On Partridge Island

The biggest Crow

I ever did see

Is roosting

On the tallest tree

On Partridge Island.

I’m guessing for a day,

Or two,

Of rest.

Wingspan beyond belief.

He won’t find much

Winter fare to eat,

Except carrion.

And they do like clams.

But their choice of seeds,

And nuts and berries,

Is not available.

Nor insects,

Though they’ll dig for them.

But a taste of a small animal,

Might be very tempting.

So, I will keep

Paw, my cat/kitten

Black as a crow

With one white mitten,

In his carry case

Whilst the crow visits.

And,

You know,

My cat/kitten

Has not made one

Complaint.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

03/11/2022 0

Will The Future Be Different If You Turn Over A New Leaf?

Alison Alexandra sometimes thinks of turning over a new leaf. Sometimes at the most traditional of times, like at New Year or her birthday or under a full moon or when the tide is at its highest.

But then she remembers that well into her preteen years she thought the expression to turn over a new leaf meant reaching into the branches of a tree and flipping her wrist (somewhat like Amanda does when cutting cards) and when she found out the flip flip flipping concerned paper pages she was so bored she never did it.

No, not once.

And anyway, why would she overturn anything in some sort of orderly fashion when she pell-mell turns things over at the very time they seem that they need to be overturned and not a minute or an hour or a full moon or one leaf later?

That now is indeed now is, indeed, now and as she daily finds out from her windows or cliffs overlooking the ocean; tide and time await no Alison Alexandra. So she will not wait for them.

03/06/2022 0

Although I Judge, I Never Pass Sentence

In Kafka In The Castle, I fill in the ‘missing’ diary entries from Kafka’s real diary. He either did not fill in these days himself, or he destroyed them. There are some estimates that Kafka destroyed 70% – 80% of everything he wrote.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

02 February 1917

Their faces – sometimes.

I am not a man to cry (am barely capable of it) but those times when I see their faces. The social cast gone, and they think themselves unobserved.

They have such a revelation that they do not care – or, more accurately, they are beyond caring. A bewildering revelation. A truth, which once known, they can never escape.

They now know they can never escape.

Perhaps, because I observe more, I see more.

Or, perhaps the less resilient come through the doors of the Institute, with their injuries and their needs. Perhaps it is this war.

Perhaps they somehow know that although I judge, I never pass sentence.

When I see this look upon their faces – the fear of life itself.

03/04/2022 0

Putin And Satan Walk Into A Bar In Kiev On The Way To Hell

~ Vladimir, Vladimir, who’s being a bad boy?

~ I protect all the Russias.

~ Who’s your daddy?

~ They tell me it is you.

~ Then don’t lie to your father.

~ Why?

~ It only makes the dark side darker.

~ But I must lie to get what I want.

~ And what do you want?

~ To be loved.

~ You are too vile to be loved.

~ Even by my father?

~ Who art in Hell. Hollow be my name.

~ I will at least make them respect me.

~ Or kill them in the process.

~ Of course – it is what they deserve.

~Tell me.

~ What?

~ What do you really want?

~ To be taller.

~ That sounds true.

~ My shadow stretches over the world.

~ Yet your body barely blocks the light.

~ I will be noticed.

~ You will be trampled.

03/03/2022 0

Putin and Hitler Walk Into a Bar in Ukraine On the Way to Hell

~ Impaler, how are you doing?

~ Just fine, Adolf – how are you?

~ Missing the old days.

~ Why do you call me Impaler?

~ Vlad the Impaler – the perfect bloodthirsty tyrant

~ You were no slouch, Adolf.

~ Ja – but you are a good student.

~ Better than you, Adolf.

~ What makes you think that?

~ I’m going to win.

~ No – not possible.

~ Why do you say that?

~ I at least believed in something.

~ What was that?

~ Myself.

~ They know I am great,

~ You are despised, Impalier.

~ So were you, Adolf.

~ But I didn’t care.

~ But I am feared.

~ Not enough. Your reign will be short.

~ I have ruled for a long time.

~ But you used to know when to stop.

02/26/2022 0

Putin and Trump Walk Into A Bar and Discuss the Future [UPDATED]

~ How much vodka did you have, Vlad?

~ Why do you ask, Donnie?

~ ‘Cause you’re reaching kinda far – even for you.

~ Are you jealous, Donnie?

~ Well, I had God on my side, and even I didn’t take this step.

~ You were a funny little president, Donnie.

~ You’re making me seem lucid.

~ So far – so good. Isn’t that right, Donnie?

~ What is good about this; Vlad?

~ I’m still standing,

~ For how long?

~ Until I am Tzar of all the Russias.

Note:

The title Tsar of all the Russias originated in connection with Russia’s victory in the Great Northern War of 1700-1721 and appeared as the adaptation of the Tsar ‘s title under the accepted system of titling in Europe.

02/24/2022 0

The Sea Birds Find Safe Haven In The Fog With The Light House Beam

If it was not for the

Sweep Sweep Sweep

Of the Light House light

We would see nothing.

The tired, exhausted sea birds,

Who have seen nothing for hours,

But the fog,

Take what haven they can

And descend around

And upon

The Lighthouse.

Dozens of them,

By what I can count in the

Sweep Sweep Sweep

Of the Light House light.

Paw, my cat/kitten

Himself black as a fog night,

With one white mitten,

Went up to one of the

Near dead birds,

And sniffed him.

Smelled the exhaustion

Beyond even the fear,

And left him alone.

I’ll find some dead tomorrow

And we’ll let the others rest

Until they can

Fly.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

02/23/2022 0