A quick trawl through the biohazardous gleanings of my local spam filter demonstrates just how breathtakingly tawdry the Internet has become in its awkward adolescence. (And we all had such high hopes!) Hold an email address long enough, and Beelzebub will beat a path to your inbox. Layered in there among the various blatant porno promos and "enlargement" come-ons, it's a sure bet you'll find the Internet's very own three-card-monte games--designed to separate you either from some personal information you probably shouldn't surrender (hint: 16 digits and an expiration date) or else from your hard-earned $US29.95.
Stories by Lew McCreary
Ask Dan Geer a question about something--privacy, for instance--and he walks straight through the topic and out its back door before even beginning his answer. The answer, when it comes, arrives deceptively from what appears to be a very great distance, some weird nether alley or off-premises parking lot. Eventually, the questioner starts to lose track of what the question was--perhaps when Geer is drawing a set of thick blue axes on a whiteboard, the vertical one labeled "people" and the horizontal one labeled "permissions."