Chaos Theory causes password entry pandemonium There are things in this tiny microcosm of the universe that I will never comprehend. For example, why do so many humans require the assistance of spectacles? How does the phase of the moon affect emotional behaviour? And what is it about the otherwise harmless, uncontroversial and inoffensive Justin Bieber that makes me want to …
My senility has reached the point where "confirm new password" boxes are like landmines, lying in wait for my accidental fat hand capslock fail. The trouble with those public sector frequent password changes, is that I could never remember which one of the many post-its stuck to the bottom of the keyboard was the current one. Especially on Fridays. I'd usually ask one of my colleagues, because wey used any spare machines to run vast n bulbous worktrays without bringing the days business to a grinding halt, so logins were like gold dust. Cheaper than buying four licences for everyone, so management never screeched about security.
On the vital subject of trouserheight, I think tailoring has much to answer for. I like a baggy trouser, because nutcrushinglty tight strides do nothing for my comfort levels in offices or vehicles. All of my suit trousers have low slung flies, which allied with a sensible choice of undercrackers, allows a smooth transition from comfort to relief, without a three stage launch procedure. The repacking is also grief free, being at the correct height.
My theory is that the more time a chap spends unpacking his Clarksonian jeans, streaming his beer, and giving the little feller a good old shake, the less likely he is to wash his piss-soaked hands afterwards.
You stand at the urinal, unzip your fly, then discover that in a hungover fog of scurrying to get ready for work, that you've put your boxers on backwards and there is no hole to be found... Except in the back, which is convenient if you're preparing to be corn-holed. Which may actually be the perfect metaphor for a Monday at work anyway...
"why do grown men these days feel the need to unbuckle their belts and lower their trousers while standing at a urinal?"
Wear a nappy, problem solved*
*Apart from the smell of stale piss and horrified looks when you suprisingly pull and forget your wearing the thing in your pissedness of course, but hey, no belt fumbling all night inches from other mens penni eh?.
I've never observed the trouser phenomenon, but then I don't get out much. No real need, as I brew my own beer. In my nearly 40 years of computing, I've never had issues remembering or typing strong passwords. So I can't help with those particular issues.
But I can solve your "vibrating keyboard" problem. Get an IBM Model M. Sorted.
Beer, because ... well, it's bloody obvious.
The problem with muscle memory is it makes dictionary attacks possible.
Simple solution: learn to program in an obscure, outdated programming language. New muscle memory, but unlikely to be in the attackers' dictionary lists.
Z80 assembler anyone? A mathematical expression in FORTH?
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