The Southland Times

Screens that give and take

- Joe Bennett

WNeverthel­ess

we imagine we get some

privacy by using

passwords.

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was hated, is loved. the which voluntary family compulsory It the a house has actual dog become and without seems and much internet like much

empty. family one Internet the horse, Or nice perhaps security Greeks that wooden like left is an the us. oxymoron. As a boffin once we’ve some put privacy got it you.’’ to me: by Neverthele­ss using ‘‘If you’ve passwords. got we a imagine cellphone And it is we get illustrati­ve passwords that story. are the subject of my trivial but

of my At the dog dawn as my of password the internet for everything. I used the name (Indulge him. He was me for a lovely a moment boy, old while 1234.) I remember But then the internet complex got passwords. cute and One started could demanding hardly call more a dog than £3^%$=, I forgot so no it. sooner And if had ever I I chosen needed a to password use it again, I solved I had the to reset problem it. It with was a tedious. bit of kit we boffins so they call don’t as trash pen and the paper. house – (Note the notebook to burglars in which I have written down all my passwords is on the shelf to the right of the computer in my study, just under the jar of tarantulas.)

With the help of the notebook I thought I had passwords licked. But see truth No 2 above.

This week a woman emailed to invite me to take part in a literary festival. When I clicked on the attached itinerary, the computer informed me that I had to sign in to a beast called googledocs. The name rang a faint bell.

I nudged aside the tarantulas and found I had once before signed in to googledocs for some forgotten reason. I duly typed in my email address and password. Nothing. Access denied. Ah well, one gets used to electronic thwarting.

Then an email arrived entitled ‘‘Critical Security Alert’’, replete with exclamatio­n marks and a sense of urgency. It was from googledocs. ‘‘Someone,’’ it said, ‘‘just tried to used your password to sign into your account.’’

It was a no-reply email address but I replied anyway. ‘‘Oh lordy,’’ I wrote, ‘‘can it be long now?’’ And then I went looking for a drink with which to wash down the entrails.

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