The Blue Angel Connection – a Story About Internet Security

Choosing connection names is very important: a story about inviting angels


 

I

unwrap the package like a candy box and quickly tossed the thin plastic wrapper. I opened from the top inserting my fingers on both sides of the enclosures lifting slowly. A shinny, rounded and flat object comes out from the box like a spaceship leaving the mother ship floating in space. Slowly it gravitates towards my piano top.

I will try to connect it myself; I must do it, no one can do it for me. I must follow precise steps so the connection work, fortunately a wizard comes to guide my journey, he keeps me from getting lost in the maze of instructions. This is a very important job as I am responsible to our home connection to cyberspace. My children depend on it. My wife wants it to be perfect. They will be angry if we’re not up and running by tonight.

In minutes we will be connected to everybody in the world and who knows maybe even people from other planets; they might be worlds we don’t want to connect to. That is precisely where the danger lies. I think of the pirates and intruders who lurk in the bowels of the Internet.

Now the wizard is almost done guiding me but before he disappears he ask me one more question: what name do you want to use for your network? Without a name the network cannot be identified. So I think of a name and wanting to be funny I come up with some stupid ones like “Bugallu” or “hot house” but then I think of something better like “Fat Bastard” (the character in the second and third films of the Austin Powers series). I thought that was funny when I think of my neighbors reading that on their “available networks” list. I also thought about hiring Fat Bastard as a body guard. I enter that name and sit back scratching my head. My connection worked but not very well.

I reflect a little about the internet. It’s direct connections to every kind of person anywhere in the world. The good, the bad and the ugly. I think of our children and how naive they are. Their vulnerability to the raw power of the Internet. Do I really want Fat Bastard as a guardian of our internet connection? Fat Bastard is a nasty bad villain from Austin Powers’ movies; for those who don’t know.

He will sure let all hackers in and bring all kinds of troubles so I quickly erase him from the connection and stare blank at the wall behind the modem. After a few moments a soft and thin voice coming from deep inside of my head, whispers: “Blue Angel”. Yes, Blue Angel. That’s it. Sounds like something I want to protect our connection.

They will protect my family. After inviting the Blue Angels in, the connection initiates perfectly. I imagined a blue angel existing somewhere in our wireless connection, a stream of blue light coming to and fro guiding every bit of transient bits between the black star ship sitting on top of the piano and the computers on my kids laps in our home. I am sure without a doubt the blue angels will protect and guide our home and protect our children, I trust the Blue Angel more than I did Fat Bastard and I’m happy with my decision.

The next day my son comes to me and he looks excited. He says that all his movies and video games are working exceedingly well and in HD. He says he saw the blue angel name showing up in the computer and he says: “when did you get the Blue Angel pointing to the space ship on top of the piano thinking perhaps the router was called Blue Angel. I said the Blue Angle came to me and it was not the original name. He told me it sounded like the box was called Blue Angel as he pointed to something atop to the router.

I took a closer look and saw for the first time that on top of the modem there were all these beautiful flickering blue lights dancing as they were alive. What a reassuring vision. I am now convinced that the whole thing about the blue angel was true but I’m still using my anti-virus just in case, and watching what my kids see on the net. Now I know that inviting angels is not that hard, one must just want them in.

Image credit: flickr.com

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Marcos Taquechel

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