16 April, 2008

Lack of professionalism in SuSE


# For all those fellow experts out there: yes I know that this is NOT a
# firewall setup but a simple (no, not simple, it tries actually to be
# clever) packet filter. But if we would call this "SuSEpacketfilter",
# only a few user would install it, hence general security would be bad.


It really pisses me off that the config files are so jovial and informal in SuSE. The firewall script actually says "Good luck!" like luck has anything to do with it. I'd be furious if I found shit like this in Solaris, but Solaris is an operating system for grown-ups, and treats you like a commercial Unix should. I feel like I'm using a toy when I work with SuSE, and that I probably can't complain about the shortcomings of Linux because it's built by shut-in basement dwellers. But then, Red Hat has a very nice, very clean, very professional Linux. I've even found that Ubuntu is more clean and clear and no-bullshit than SuSE. SuSE is just an awful, awful Linux. I can't get 'round that. It just has no redeeming qualities.

If you don't have anything intelligent to say in your witty little remarks, don't put the fucking comment in the config file I'm editing when I want to strangle the vendor. The last thing you want to do is be the petrol on the fire that comes from penetration diagnosis at 0400. I am sure you think it's cute or funny, but I don't want cute and funny in my fucking firewall, in my init scripts, or man pages.

"fellow experts," my ass.

14 April, 2008

civil unrest

I’ve been reading over Gibbon’s Decline and Fall, and a couple things have become apparent which seem to coincide, circumstantially of course, with some of the things I’ve written about, here, in the past.

Without directly advocating the “violent overthrow of the United States government,” it is still possible to discuss how that might come about, in the face of a government perceived as unfavorable, and a public, which is, without doubt, unimpressed and in fact compelled to action. The action, in the case of the American populous, seems to be voting and forming NGO’s and PAC’s. If one is to look at the effects of these various organizations, and indeed voting itself, it is hard not to see the outright failure of all of the above.

Looking at one of the largest, most visible PAC’s, Soros’ Move On, one need look no further than the 2004 election to see its most immediate failure. Without making a value judgment one way or another, it is plain that the goal was not accomplished. Adherents may bring up explanations (which is a polite word for excuses) such as “[Bush] did not gain a majority of the vote,” or hint at secret conspiracies and machinations of that particular dynasty to retain power (for one thing, it seems unlikely that any more of the Bush progeny will retain power after the coming election; for another, the opposing party is putting forth its own dynasty). The summation, however, of this event is the most important, because that is indeed what we are left with after the election. The fact is, a single person was elected president, and that person nominated and installed his own staff, judges, and military advisers. In fact, in the tumult that followed both the initial attack on Afghanistan and the invasion of Iraq in March of 2003, said president was incredibly clear on his perception of the office: he believed he was (and it could be argued that he was, although I don’t see a need to address the claim, as it’s clearly irrelevant now) Commander in Chief of the armed forces.

I have no motive or allegiance beyond stating a simple fact when I say that an equally ineffective NGO to Soros’ PAC is al Qaeda itself. Their ultimate goal is in fact murky, but the rhetoric seems to be primarily to extricate the Saud family from power in the Arabian Peninsula, as well as to exact some sort of vague revenge on the West, but primarily America and perhaps Britain. There have indeed been a number of attacks on both British and American soil. And, there have been many thousands of people killed in military service in the Gulf. But if one is to look at, again, the summation of this effort, the net effect is that this conflict is not going terribly well for al Qaeda. We can discuss this ad nauseum, but if one looks solely at the numbers, there are figures varying from 600,000 or more from the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM), and less than 100,000 from the Pentagon. Even if the Coalition Forces (to use their term for purposes of identification, not to indicate a side taken) had lost ten times as many people as the current figures, it would still be nothing like an even fight. The only plausible argument I see to this is to indicate the costs to both sides in this conflict. Where the Coalition Forces are absorbing their losses figured in the billions of dollars, al Qaeda is figuring their losses in the tens of thousands of people killed. If one were to listen to American sentiment on the subject, we very rapidly hear questions such as that by Mr. Kerry, “what is the cost of a single human life?” Surely this factors for both sides of a military conflict; in which case, we can assume that on some level, people are worth at least a few hundred or even a few thousand dollars, as horrific as that sounds. If such is the case, the conflict looks a little closer to “even,” although I would suggest that it’s not even close to parity.

And so, it’s taken seven hundred words to express what I think is a reasonably cogent argument that the current approaches to changing government (in the case of Move On), and to changing world sentiment (in the case of al Qaeda), are entirely incapable of bringing about change. As I’ve said before, the only instrument that seems to bring about change is violence. But how do we measure violence? There is no commonly accepted unit of violence. One could suggest that a “troop year” (the number of troops times the number of years over the length of a conflict) or a “man tonnage” (the amount of tonnage delivered either per attacker or per attacked; the nuclear strategy seems to lean heavily in this direction), but in the end, neither of these has proven effective in regime change, either locally or in a foreign state.

So perhaps I should amend my previous statement that violence is the only mechanism for bringing about regime change. Further, I’ve discussed why regime change is necessary: there is simply nowhere to go to form a new state with the required ideals to satisfy the disaffected. This brings me to Gibbon. Gibbon states


“The power of the sword is more sensibly felt in an extensive monarchy than in a small community. It has been calculated by the ablest politicians that no state, without being soon exhausted, can maintain above the hundredth part of its members in arms and idleness.”


What does this mean? If we examine the context of this remark, it is the assassination of Pertinax by the Praetorian Guard, ca. March 193 AD. Gibbon describes the origin of this situation (which is admittedly pretty dark, even compared to the unrest in the contemporary West) as


“He distinguished [the Praetorian Guard] by a double pay and superior privileges … [u]nder the fair pretenses of relieving Italy from the heavy burden of military quarters and of introducing a stricter discipline among the guards, he assembled them at Rome in a permanent camp, which was fortified with skillful care and placed on a commanding situation.”


What is important about this is these guards were, as installed by Augustus Caesar, existed to


“maintain his usurped dominion … [of] constant readiness to protect his person, to awe the senate, and either to prevent or to crush the first motions of rebellion.”


Let us remember for a second that Augustus Caesar knew full well what a rebellion entailed – as he succeeded Julius Caesar, and oversaw the exile of Marcus Junius Brutus and his conspirators (who, it is important to remember, viewed themselves as liberators). Pertinax himself did not especially fear the Praetorian Guard, as he had replaced Commodus, who was a miserable ruler and disliked by the people. This last piece alludes to the other component necessary in a violent revolution (which is really what regime change means to those involved).

The Praetorians had been involved in the sacking of a number of rulers of Rome. Yet, in each case, they were merely the focal point of civil unrest. We can look at the end of Julius Caesar’s reign, at the end of Commodus’ reign, or, perhaps comically, the end of Gaius’ (Caligula) reign, and so on, for at least a couple hundred years in Western Rome. The end of Eastern Rome is perhaps more interesting, in that involves the defeat of a state by a foreign power. However, if we again consult Gibbon, we see that the


“[t]heir hasty and unconditional submission was palliated by a promise of future revisal; but the best or the worst of their excuses was the confession of their own perjury. When they were pressed by the reproaches of their honest brethren, ‘Have patience,’ they whispered, ‘have patience till God shall have delivered the city from the great dragon who seeks to devour us.’”


And again at the defeat of Constantine XI by Mehmet II,


“[f]or the payment of his feeble and mutinous troops, Constantine was compelled to despoil the churches with the promise of a fourfold restitution; and his sacrilege offered a new reproach to the enemies of the union.”


While Constantine is revered and indeed beatified, and this is probably appropriate, it is very clear that he was unfortunately ruling during a period of unrest ranging from ennui to religious unrest, and again, mutiny.

With my apologies for not having more brevity in this explanation, I would hope that it has become clear that simple violence is not enough to overthrow a government; it is not enough to overpower and overrun a state; and it is never entirely a military act when it is successful. It is of primary importance that such revolts, military actions, and even assassinations always come on the heels of pronounced, protracted civil unrest. It is a little melodramatic to state that the ruler serves at the pleasure of the people, but in fact this seems to be the case. As recently as World War II France, or present-day Iraq and Afghanistan, and back of course to Julius Caesar and the unfortunate Pertinax, when sufficient civil unrest exists, and a state of an armed population, the only release seems to be civil revolt.

Let’s go back to Gibbon’s figure. It is especially telling (although it is not clear which ablest politicians he refers to) that current figures for the number of people employed (in both civil and military capacity) by the United States Defense Department approaches four million people. Further, that this exceeds Gibbon’s one percent of the population of the United States. Lastly, to this mix we add a near fifty-fifty partitioning of the States on political lines, highest-ever voter turnout, the highest-ever membership in militant religious organization, the highest-ever level of firearms in the hands of civilians, the utter collapse of commercial finance and the ballooning of private debt, and the highest-ever disapproval rating for a president. It would seem that all the pieces are in place for something to occur, although what that something would be is unclear.

What if we instead postulate on what additional elements could be added to the mix, further heating the already unpleasant concoction. There are a number of items, such as a further attack on the United State by al Qaeda or other actors (although I must stress here that, as in 2001, such an attack is merely a catalyst for a change it cannot effectively influence, nor can it know the outcome thereof), which, according to Robert McNamara (who claims to be quoting Perry), is increasingly likely (one in ten as of 2004) to be nuclear (more on this another day), the “wrong” president getting elected (which candidate is the “wrong” president is irrelevant) a religious agitator (e.g., Falwell), an environmental disaster (such as an Exxon Valdez in CONUS or another nuclear meltdown), an outbreak of e.g., H5N1, financial vacillations (inflation/deflation, taxes, trade embargoes) or even a particularly inflammatory piece of literature (e.g., Martin Luther, Galileo, your average fatwa).

The precursor(s) to each of these stressors is readily evident today. How much more stress can be added to an already volatile mix of arms, unrest, and a large military? In Rome, these events took place rather more rapidly than they do today. However, today’s empires are much larger, and the power structures are more stratified and ossified than they have ever been. This does not, however, diminish man’s capability for violence.

A ruler, serving at the pleasure of an armed populace, commanding an unhappy military, and sitting atop a giant cauldron of civil unrest, would do well to simply get out of its way, lest they succumb to the obvious fate of such rulers.

Or, more succinctly, sic semper tyrannis.