Mossy Character writes: (This happened back in July, but I noticed it now.)

an unknown attacker exploited a critical flaw in the Parity multi-signature wallet on the Ethereum network, draining three massive wallets of over $31,000,000 worth of Ether
[...]
So who were the crackpot developers who wrote this? [...] This is basically the highest standard of programming that exists in the Ethereum ecosystem.
[...]
Most of the programmers who are getting into this space [...] come from a web development background, and the blockchain toolchain is designed to be familiar for web developers.
[...]
When you push bad code to a web server, it's not a big deal if there's a critical mistake -- you can just roll back the code, or roll forward with a fix
[...]
In blockchain, code is intrinsically unrevertible.
[...]
Imagine that you were deploying software for vending machines. But instead of a bug allowing you to simply steal candy from one machine, the bug allowed you to simultaneously steal candy from every machine in the world that employed this software. Yeah, that's how blockchain works.

Heebie's take: So we don't think that blockchain things are going away, do we? Are they just going to be a playground for con artists and hackers? I don't really understand what happens to this stuff going forward.

E. Messily writes as follows, in the third person:

Here's something to argue about:

E. Messily has a disability tag for her car. When she gets to the sushi restaurant, the only two available spaces are right next to each other: one is a reserved Disabled People Only spot, and one is for normals.

Which spot should E. Messily park in, to best serve the common good?

If she parks in the unmarked spot, the disability spot is reserved for someone else who comes along who needs it. But that's statistically unlikely; it's more likely that someone who is not disabled will come along and have to park, like, A BLOCK OR MORE, away, with the reserved spot empty all night.

If she parks in the disabled spot (to which she has a legal and moral right), the other spot is likely to be full soon, and then parking space has been utilized in a maximally efficient way. But, if any disabled people who need close access shows up, they are SOL.

What say you, Mineshaft?

I guess I think that if she feels she has both the legal right (undisputed) and the moral right (what I would have thought we were to argue about), the question is open-and-shut, but apparently she feels differently, so have at it, you princes of New England, you queens of Maine.

(I had the legal right to park my car in a disabled space for a couple of months, when I was required to wear a pediatric boot and told to minimize my walking. Did I use it? Sometimes! Not super often, though, I don't think.)

2018 prediction time. Last year's predictions here. It seems I was too gun shy to predict anything last year.

I enjoyed this kidding-on-the-square blog post: Productivity Is Dangerous; you know who else was productive? It does boggle my mind sometime people (of power) who bother getting out of bed just to make the world worse. Just stay in bed!

This is a not-really-worth-reading article about a fun question: who will be remembered in 1000 years? Let's stipulate: human civilization has survived and we're considering people from the last 150 (or so) years. Maybe make your list, then read the comments, where I'll put mine, and you put yours, and we'll make comment babies.

I think I'm losing my ability to make conversation with other people. I can ask about the people in their life, and their job, and major life events, and hopefully they're feeling talkative and we can riff on this. If I'm asked about my job, or kids, or Jammies, I find it very difficult to say much. I really don't ever feel like talking about politics these days. I can't remember how people bring up ideas or concepts in conversation. Do you just pose it as a question? (Ironic, given that I spend a decent part of my life playing hostess here, and doing exactly that. But you all generally take the prompt and run with it!)

The internet is probably to blame on two dimensions: first, I get a lot of human connection online, so I'm not as hungry for dialogue as I otherwise would be. Second, I'm maybe less interested in learning what I can from other people than I would be if I didn't have the internet. There's much fewer reasons to pick someone's brain for content - it has to be very specific to their life and expertise, otherwise I internally just assume I'll look it up online at some point.

Some people are very good at conversation. Around them, sure, I find it easy to hold up my end of the bargain. But with people who are middling, I wish I could do a better job of generating interesting conversations for both me and the other person to sink their teeth into.

Merry Christmas.

Sir Kraab writes: I have a dopey game we can play. A friend of mine works at a used book store which has a display of awfully specific books, e.g., the blockbuster Veilleuses: A Definitive Review of Ceramic Food and Tea Warmers of the 18th and 19th Centuries and the indispensable Water Cooled Grinding and Sharpening of Edge Tools.

Part 1. Awfully specific advice received.

There were those school assemblies that told us to fight cavities and to stop, drop, and roll. (I legit wonder how many lives Dick Van Dyke has saved.) But I also remember, and annoyingly think of nearly every time I'm in the shower, that they told us that if the water's too cold, you should save energy by turning the cold water down before turning the hot water up.

Part 2. Awfully specific advice given.

When Kraabniece #1 leaves the nest, I'll tell her that at least some of her underwear should be all-cotton because sometimes you run out of clean clothes and you can wear them inside out. (Look, we've all done it. I'm just bringing it out of the shadows.)

Heebie's take: What fun! The ones that first pop into mind are the uncomfortably specific advice from my older brother I received growing up. AIHMHB. I'll restate it in the comments.

Well, it seems unlikely that Mueller will get fired by Christmas, at least, right?