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just call me Rebbe Fubuki (aboutme) | by fubuki
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just call me Rebbe Fubuki (aboutme)

what is fubuki?

 

fubuki is japanese for snowstorm. in cryptanalysis, the most effective mode of foiling an eavesdropper is not to devise the most impenetrable code, but to skew the signal to noise ratio so that neither the real content nor context of your data can be interpreted. for example, in the pacific half of world war 2, US code breakers knew the basics of the japanese naval cipher, but not 100%. they interpreted that a massive push was being made for some target designated 'AP', but they couldnt decide what AP was. we didnt have the resources to cover all possible target scenarios, so it was imperative that the identity of AP was determined conclusively. strategists had a good idea that midway island was the japanese goal. to confirm their hunch, they sent a false transmission that midway's water treatment plant was broken and that repairs were needed. in short order, they intercepted enemy traffic that AP had a broken water treatment plant. you can tell as much about your opponent's intentions by what they focus on (context) as by what they say (content).

 

on the european front of world war 2, the us-uk alliance had an incredible advantage with their near real-time decryption of german military codes. but it was a double-edge sword. if they acted consistently on every piece of intel they deciphered, the germans could infer that their enigma code had been compromised. the allies went to extreme lengths to provide alternate assumable conclusions for german counter-intelligence. if the german submarine fleet was sending out a wolfpack squadron on march 15th from their pens at Lorient, instead of rushing a destroyer group to nail them directly, they would send spotter boats and planes over the area first. churchill allowed convoys to sail into the know path of german u-boats rather than alert them, because the risk of compromising enigma was too high.

 

so if you want to hide your content and context, throw up the white noise, throw up a snowstorm. shotgun a thousand plausible intentions and messages. collapse your opponents ability to correlate your talk to action. in the same manner the al-queda network has figured this nifty little rule out. they flood our intel services with false messages about shopping mall, scuba, apartment complex, super bowl, etc. attacks. our side runs to every possible target, throws up color coded nonsense threat assesments, and generally gets run into the ground.

 

in short, fubuki is about throwing up a thousand ideas and letting you figure out what is going on.

 

who are you?

 

it is difficult to talk about yourself without sounding like an epitaph or using epithets. but...here goes:

my name is ty. 36 male lumpen techprole. amateur class observer/critic on politics, history, science, and popkultur. my vices hopelessly outnumber my virtues. on any given night i can be found brooding over a good book with a bucket glass of scotch, a butt-full ashtray of smokes, and long miles davis solos. generally, i subscribe to oscar wilde's axiom that the only sin is to be boring and heinlein's corollary that all saints are either dullards or cowards.

 

i welcome all requests from the third-world media, but, sadly, cannot exchange email with federal prisoners (i've been hurt too many times).

 

what is your manifesto?

 

no manifesto here. in my opinion, ism's lead to schisms. generally, i'm more of a why not than a what for. i have uttered a few notions that others have taken the effort to jot down and throw back in my face.

'humor is the liquor of the soul - which explains flat british pints and bitter irish draughts.'

 

'the orient treats the merchant class with the proper disdain. they are of the same seed as tanners, gravediggers, and professional politicos.'

 

'let sleeping gods lie'

 

'a newborn either has the eyes of a jaded satrap or a nervous pauper, so do police officers for that matter.'

 

'curiosity is a bit of a sociopath, not caring where it leads us, nor at what price'

 

'everything was clear to me when i realized life was choice between savior and savoir'

 

 

 

do you have a bio?

 

sure. its a bit scattered, or scatological (i cant decide).

as the italian bard, dante, warned:

 

'lasciate ogni speranza, voi chi entrate...

(trans: abandon all hopes, ye who enter (personal motto))

 

 

 

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ty-fu, the story of the drunken praying mantis fighter...

 

 

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ch. 1 cielo and sangre phase

graduated in 93 from U of Chicago with a BA in political science. brutal matriculation. very emotionally harsh period. a period of great Magellanic interior exploration of self and soul and assorted commodities. many stories and aphorisms written during this period. collectively this is considered the bohemian 'cielo and sangre phase' or the great interior Cultural Revolution of 92'.

 

ch 2 De Res Agricultura

 

after graduation, the drunken praying mantis fighter moved back to North Carolina. Ty was a chef in a bistro, A fantastic oportunity arose to purchase 206 acres of farmland for $100,000. The land was gorgeous southern Virginia hill-country with running streams, artesian springs, deer, turkey, pine forests, wide blue sky...he went into a deal with ty's father to split the land and the costs. Shortly thereafter he moved to the land. Ty renovated a log tobacco drying barn into a smithy. the drunken praying mantis fighter made reproductions of greek and roman antiquities and abstract hand-forged metal sculptures for a year or so, while cooking in restaurants and working white trash construction jobs. aditionally, he planted a small (!) vineyard of cabernet sauvignon grapes (killed by Hurricane Fran), planted a great amount of provence herbs, and built a small japanese tea house called matsu-kaze (pine-wind) overlooking a wooded bluff. alas, the burn rate on the sculpture business and maintaining a healthy farm outstripped the meager income the drunken praying mantis fighter brought in.

 

ch 3 The Apostasy

 

the drunken praying mantis fighter bought a computer and started learning the caballah of networking. eventually ty found employment with a really BIG computer company - signaling the end of the period of poverty, but also the outsourcing of his soul. over time the drunken praying mantis fighter, using his powers for good, has assumed the responsibilities of a network operations manager - this means that he manages crisis situations when networks and servers and associated things infarc. ty has gone from neo-luddite to neo-tech in less than a decade. critics are still assessing whether the sea change was the result of a weak fidelity to a moral, artistic existence or the selfless assumption of maturing responsibilities. this phase is known as The Apostasy.

 

ch 4 grihastha (the vedic period of householding)

 

the drunken praying mantis fighter lives in raleigh, north carolina in a pretty house. ty entertains himself with trite landscaping endeavors - koi pond and bamboo garden - and reading on scientificish subjects. the drunken praying mantis fighter's current master plan for world domination is to be an asimov or clarke-level science fiction writer, however he is mortally hamstrung by the inescapable fact that he loves to read and think far more than write. well...actually i really love to write.

 

 

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Taken on May 10, 2006