The Art Of Not Asking Why

Playing around with Micro.blog. More like trying to wrap my head around its mastodon relationship.

This service is "smart" enough to know to convert long posts to blog entries, while providing a quick link on Mastodon. Short posts will show fully on Mastodon (and in the Micro.blog's direct feed of the community).

It's interesting how it works, sort of a mix of Mastodon and a blog in one. I think I like.

@grueproof @joel

I’m testing Micro.blog to use for quick blog-like updates. If you’re reading this on Mastodon, it means cross-posting is enabled correctly from Micro.blog to Mastodon.

This post is written in Emacs org-mode, which I will convert to Markdown, then copy-paste to Micro.blog. The website (blog) I opened with this service is jtr.micro.blog. It was very easy to find and install a theme I like. Ironically enough, Micro.blog is using Hugo, which is what I’m trying to replace.

Please forgive typos, I’m recovering from COVID and my brain is floating on different cold medicines.

This is another test post, to see what posts here do with my existing mastodon account which I created for feeds. https://fosstodon.org/@jtr_feed

No, I don’t mean the new “hack” from Cellebrite, which still seems to make waves¹. There’s a more fundamental issue at hand, a result of Signal being secure, not because it’s flawed somehow.

Privacy as Ownership

I’ve been thinking about privacy for a while, if that’s not evident from my recent blog posts. The word is so widely used these days it lost tangible meaning. What does privacy even mean anymore?

To me, privacy is the option to share information. To have a choice. This post I’m writing right now, for example. I can keep it to myself, deep in my journal pages, where it will never be shared. Or I can push it to my repository on GitLab, which will cause Netlify to pull it and build a post on its virtual Hugo environment, with DNS pointing to my domain, for the whole world to see.

In order to have this choice, I first need to own my data. In the old days, I used to have a blog on WordPress.com. There was no local copy; I’d just log into the website, work on my draft, and publish. I never truly owned my data, despite whatever WordPress might say. They could have shut down my account without a second thought, and all of my posts would have been gone forever, no matter how loud I’d yelled. No data ownership, no choice, no privacy².

Can I Own my Data on Signal…?

At this point, you can see what I’m getting at: with Signal, I don’t own my data. Sure, my conversations are end-to-end encrypted. Sure, no one besides me and the person I’m talking to, not even Signal, can read these conversations. But the WordPress problem I described above still exists: I don’t own the conversation.

Even though the conversation itself is stored locally in a database on my phone, it is fully encrypted (as it should be), and even if I decrypt it (in a similar manner Cellebrite did³, it is still not laid out conveniently. It looks like lines in a table. After all, it’s a database you’re looking at.

As far as I know, Signal doesn’t have the option to export conversations⁴. To do so would be a security risk for sure, especially for non-informed users who just want to have an encrypted chat client on their phone. However, I believe there’s room for such a feature, perhaps with limited access. Maybe for developers or folks who want to build Signal from source, which I think is still possible (Signal has their repository on Github).

Footnotes

¹ If you’re curious if there’s truth in these claims, start by reading Signal’s official response and follow up on Reddit for a few entertaining remarks.

² You could argue that having my post hosted on GitLab is not much different than WordPress, and you’d be right, with one important exception: all my posts are local before they ever get pushed to GitLab. GitLab, and the post you’re now reading, are just a copy of my original content, which I do my best to preserve with encrypted backups. If GitLab closes my account tomorrow, I won’t lose anything. I could probably relocate to a new repository within the same day.

³ The retracted blog post on their site showed how they decrypted the local database on an Android device. In a way, it was pretty informative. The big problem with it was that it was no hack at all: they described a way to decrypt the information using an unlocked phone. The equivalent of breaking into a house after you have already unlocked the front door with the key you happen to have.

⁴ There’s an option to creak a local encrypted backup, but this backup is meant to be used with Signal. If you don’t have Signal, you can’t use this option.

I was listening to some Brahms music and I was thinking I should find myself some more, but I forgot how hard it is to get a proper classical music CD.

Searching is always difficult, and then my NYPL card doesn’t work anymore. When I do find a CD, I need to pick it up from the library and record the tracks to mp3 of flac files.

Why not just listen to streaming music? Because it seems every musician and his grandma create some Brahms cover (this is much worse of course for Beethoven, or Mozart) and you end up listening to some electrical guitar mix with drums that some 20-year-old thought was cool.

Comment from 2024-12-12: Since then, I’ve learned and subscribed to Idagio, an online lossless streaming service that keeps my classical music cravings satisfied

• Belladonna of Sadness
• Oblivion
• The Mule

• Leonor Will Never Die

I read a good argument in a NYTimes opinion piece by Laura Vanderkam in favor of flexible work hours.

The article contains a couple of interviews with people who adjusted to work with flexibility. Here’s the part that resonates with me:

I hope we can begin to understand that, for many, work is a collection of tasks, not a collection of hours in a certain place. And time is a finite resource, but one that cannot always be neatly divided into “work time” and “free time.” Taking time for yourself during the work day doesn’t make you lazy, and working a bit on vacation doesn’t make you a workaholic. Dispensing with strict time boundaries should also mean ditching the guilt you might feel for either. In org-mode, I measure time by clocking in and out of tasks. These can take days, weeks, or months. Other projects repeat and become routines. I don’t particularly care “when” these hours take place. The nature of the job, not to mention COVID-19, have long deemed most of the “where” irrelevant. I often work outside my dedicated work hours, sometimes as early as 5 in the morning or as late as 9 in the evening. The flip side of this is taking long lunch breaks or leave the office a bit early. It goes both ways.

One of my good work “hacks” are quick naps, from 10 minutes to about half an hour. In return, these breaks allow me to be alert and productive at work, often working beyond the minimal requirements of a certain task. I enjoy what I do, so what’s the big deal?

New York’s Last Movie Clerk Knows More Than You Do nytimes.com

Read: www.nytimes.com

Last weekend, I ran a DnD session. Three curious players stepped into a fantasy world I created for the first time in over 20 years, took whatever plans I had for them, shredded them to bits, and apparently left satisfied and wanting more. So if you’re curious, this is a chance to understand what’s the fuss about from a perspective of a guy who’s starting it all over again.

DnD (easier to type than D&D) is a phenomenon that has seen a renaissance in the last decade or so. I believe that’s because most of the folks who played the game as teens (myself included) are now old enough to pass the hobby down to the kids: either their own or those who matured after the 90s.

Because DnD is essentially an act of communal storytelling, you can make it whatever you want. This means you don’t have to be a kid to participate; the story can be adult-oriented with everything you’d expect from a good book. While DnD is usually set in a medieval fantasy world, it doesn’t have to be this way (one such example is the unsleeping city, a DnD setting in modern-day New York City).

To me, the story aspect of DnD is primary to everything else, which means the people who create it are of utmost importance. I was on the lookout for a while. I couldn’t just pick a random group online and join a game: sharing the world inside my head is an invitation to a private, intimate domain. I had to pick and choose people that I felt I could open up to and be comfortable with.

The requirements from these people were not easy, especially during these times of COVID. They needed to be geeky, even dorky. They needed to be open-minded and comfortable exploring darker themes, sexual elements, and questionable philosophies. I needed people who are familiar with the game and understand that I haven’t led an adventure in over two decades and that I don’t have the vocabulary they do for medieval terms or the knowledge of the rules. It was also important to me to meet these people face to face and talk to them over a drink or two, pick their brains, and see if they have what it takes¹ (more accurately, if I have what it takes). In short, I had to make new friends.

I said led the game, and this is somewhat misleading. A better description of a DM (dungeon master) might be a host. Just like a host, the DM invites the players to play (in my case, the invitation extended to my physical home and the one in my mind). Once the players come, the DM serves as a foundation of a story for the players to take and do what they wish. A good host tries to make their guests feel comfortable and open up, be themselves, and have a good time; a DM’s role should be the same.

Usually, a good game session is full of good laughs, excitement, and a table with snacks and drinks. When a successful meeting ends, the players may ask when is the next session, and the gang you’ve brought together keeps exploring the world you’ve all just built together in chats until the next meeting. These were the moments that gave me satisfaction beyond just the joy of the game. It was the kind of happiness you feel after you feed a group of hungry people with homemade food.

There is more to being a DM than just being a good host. In fact, there is so much more I’d like to talk about just from this one gaming session, I don’t even know how to start (that’s right, I didn’t even start yet). DnD is a game spread over hundreds of pages of content and rules; yet, when it came to just sitting down and creating an adventure, I found that I was drawing from my intuition and past experiences and not so much from the official content. It felt as if there was very little there for me, and the little that I found was not what was needed².

How does one create a good story? How do you even know you want to? And when you have an idea, how do you bring it to life? Do you just write down a list of bullet points? Start typing until smoke comes out of your fingertips? Do you draw the map first, or do you create NPCs (Non-Player Characters)? Do you know why there are monsters there, and are they automatically the “bad guys”? How do you tell a good story, and how do you roleplay?

I haven’t a clue. Seriously, I don’t. However, asking these questions is rewarding. It’s the stuff that would get your juices flowing and your imagination working as it hasn’t in years.

What I hope to do is to explore what I’ve done so far (which is both barely anything and way too much to write about at the same time) and recapture my passion for this game.

Footnotes

1. These are my requirements, which may be a bit much. Those who just want to pick up the game and play can find it in many places online, from Twitch to roll20 to meetup groups. You can always try to play first and learn what you feel comfortable with later.

2. The DMG (Dungeon Master’s Guide) is filled with good advice and rules, not to mention other additions like Xanathar’s Guide to Everything or Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. This is not what I’m talking about here, as it will hopefully become clear. There’s an excellent discussion on Reddit about this, as well.

I returned from a trip to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and I miss it already. My mind is still running a mental rsync against the usual daily grind, and as rsync goes with large portions of data, this can take a while. One of the things I can bring up already though is the color theme in New Mexico, which was everywhere we went. It seems to convey the colors of the desert: sand to clay browns and yellows, green-gray for the cactus, the turquoise for the sky and water.

I grew up in a place where the desert was always nearby, and forests were small, usually limited to modest nature reserves of pine trees. Perhaps it was somewhat of this home-like feeling, perhaps it was the peaceful surroundings, or the way human-made structures blended into nature effortlessly. Whatever it was, I felt the colors resonate with who I am as a person and how I operate.

Naturally, Emacs came to mind. Coincidentally, I just discussed low contrast themes on Reddit before the trip, and received some interesting feedback. The discussion started after I realized I enjoy low-contrast themes over high-contrast ones. Indeed, the colors I now use in Emacs, inspired by nature where I went, give me more of that soothing feeling from New Mexico.

At this point, my “slightly modified” Gotham theme, which I discussed in the Reddit post, is heavily modified. The color descriptions inside the theme’s .el file don’t make much sense anymore. I’ve also noticed that org-mode is somewhat of an afterthought in the theme, with some of its key elements not defined at all. I’m wondering how hard it would be to create my own theme based on the colors I’ve already added.

Interestingly, for such uniformity of colors, I couldn’t find any official guide or even an explanation from an official source (if you happen to be from New Mexico or know of such a place, please let me know!) The only thing that came close was the New Mexico University branding guide.

When I started researching privacy more seriously, I didn’t know what I was looking at was the face of a forlorn path that seems to go nowhere. I picked it up as a challenge, and within a few days it became clear that privacy is a journey of hard sacrifices.

When I asked for help on Reddit’s privacy community I was blocked from posting because my freshly-created account specifically for this purpose was too new and thus, too suspicious. It was just one stop of many I’ve made in the last two months. Article after article from Medium to Lifehacker was filled with beginner tips like “use VPN” or “search with Duck Duck Go.” As I kept digging deeper, looking for more specifics and advanced techniques, the more it seemed that the internet I use every day suddenly had an end. A wall.

Everything on the screen had a sense of purpose. I was supposed to follow the answers in front of me. Buy a Visa gift card with your credit card; submit your phone number to get a discount; surrender your verified email address to chat with an agent. Not a single website gave additional options. Everywhere I looked, I had to give up a piece of my privacy or lie and hope for the best. I chose the latter option whenever I could. The feeling that I was doing something wrong intensified.

Then there was the loneliness. I haven’t logged into Facebook for years. I stopped using Twitter last year, and with it, I stopped following trends and celebrities in my industry. Most recently, I stopped using Instagram and lost touch with those who like my photos, a window to the outside world, especially during the pandemic. On the other hand, getting in touch with me became more difficult since I insist on less popular apps that no one wants to download. When I try to explain why, it often feels like I’m speaking a different language even with those close to me the most.

This is the price of privacy. I am almost at a breaking point, and I’ve only started. I understand now why there is so little real information about true privacy. Those who stay out of the familiar platforms live in the shadows. It’s not that they hide, but by resisting selling their lives away they can’t reach us or we them. You can’t Google them, friend them on Facebook, or follow them on Twitter. They don’t exist to us, criminal by association with the cryptic “dark web.”

So much of what we do, what we are, is not even ours to share but instead borrowed, hosted somewhere unknown to us, supplied only if we sign an agreement to give ourselves up. And we can’t be bothered to know. After all, when was the last time you read Facebook’s terms of service? Twitter’s? Google’s? Apple’s?

I wish I could tell you this is all a cheap Matrix ripoff. The problem is that I can’t unlearn what I’ve learned or unread what I’ve read. Instead, I’m figuring out how to bend the rules just enough to be more than a sheepish user. I’m starting to see the invisible walls of the digital cell.

I received my new Pixel 4a on Friday before last, and after a week, I can say this with confidence: this is the best smartphone Google has ever made. I also hope it will be the last phone I buy from Google.

If you want to read more about the Pixel4a, There are plenty of reviews on the web, both written and videos (here’s a recent in-depth one from arstechnica, and a quicker video from the Verge). Here I’m going to focus on why I like this phone.

Let’s start with the obvious: the price. At $350, Google is back where it has always been best: supplying top tech at a price that doesn’t twists people’s arms. At hard times like this, with folks losing their jobs, this is a welcome change from the $800-plus flagships.

The Pixel 4a is not a statement of class like the iPhone, and it’s far from delivering the latest and greatest. That’s fine because I don’t need the latest and greatest, I need a damn phone. The iPhone 8 Plus, which I have for work, still sells for about $500 today(1)

The iPhone 8 Plus is too heavy and too big, yet somehow the screen on it is smaller than the one on the Pixel 4a. This makes a big difference. The Pixel doesn’t fall out of my hand when I pick it up like the iPhone 8 Plus does. I can reach the corners of the screen without doing crazy hands acrobatics. It doesn’t stick out of my pocket for everyone on the street to see. It fits into my pouch when I go for a run. These may look like insignificant details, but the overall experience is liberating.

As a bonus, the pixel comes with an earphone jack. I can carry my FLAC files with me on the phone and listen to my higher-end earphones at the office now. The Bluetooth headphones are good for meetings and streaming music, but if I want to get lost in some good stuff, I need an audio cable(2). It’s also nice to plug in my good set and charge my phone at the same time when I’m at my computer.

I know the argument for/against Pixel phones is all about the camera, the better battery life, lack of better water resistance, Android sucks/rules, blah blah blah. I don’t care about those. While I don’t particularly care about looks, the Pixel does look nice. The edge-to-edge screen without bezels, the crisp image, and thefabric cases to match, it puts the iPhone in perspective.

I used to marvel at Google’s utilitarian vanilla Android and scoff at anything that isn’t a pure Android experience. Now, after a couple of years in IT working with Android, iOS, macOS, Windows, and of course Linux, I’m moving forward.

It’s called GrapheneOS. A mobile OS that strips the Pixel from what makes it Google. It’s a mobile OS built for privacy geeks who want a smartphone that doesn’t call back to the mothership. I want to wipe this phone clean and see if I can live without Google on me all the time.

But I’m cheating. I still have my iPhone. I’ve decided that all the apps that need to “spy” on me can be on my work phone. Bank app? I don’t mind if my job, which pays my salary, sees my bank statements. Google Maps? If I travel, I can’t leave work completely behind anyway. Phone calls? I barely call people anymore and most of my contacts are on iPhone, so I don’t mind using Facetime. Everything private however will live on the Pixel. My org notes in Orgzly, my contacts on Signal(3), my media, passwords, etc.

Right now, this is a challenge I want to take. I still have my old Pixel 2, and I’m planning to use it first as a “demo” version to see how this works out - or fails. By the time I’m done, I believe GrapheneOS will already have a working Pixel 4a version.

Why? Well, why not? This blog is called the art of not asking why, after all.

(1) This price came up for a refurbished iPhone 8+ on Apple’s website.

(2) I find that I don’t need my amplifier when I connect directly to the jack. With the USB-C dangle, which looks terrible and prevents charging at the same time (so the phone slowly runs out of juice), I need to use an AMP as well. Visualize this: an audio cable from the headset goes into an adapter, which goes into the AMP, which goes into the phone. I want to say there’s a slight difference in sound quality without the amp, but I don’t have a professional-grade headset to detect that sort of thing.

(3) This will be tricky since Signal is not exactly open source, but I’m aware there’s a way to install the APK anyway. Actually, Signal puts out its APK on its website.