| Ty Myrddin | https://tymyrddin.dev/ |
Weizenbaum built ELIZA in 1966, warned us in 1976 that computers should never replace human judgment… and we ignored him. Thirty years later, AI is making decisions he said it never should. The results? Not looking good.
Quietly, methodically, the Dutch Institute for Vulnerability Disclosure (DIVD) finds the cracks before criminals do — and keeps pushing until they’re fixed. Two verified stories show why this work matters, and how you can help.
In the spring of 2021, Dutch Institute for Vulnerability Disclosure (DIVD) researcher Wietse Boonstra quietly uncovered seven critical flaws in Kaseya’s widely used IT management software. DIVD warned the company within days, flagging more than 2,200 vulnerable systems across the globe. Weeks later, three flaws remained unpatched—and the REvil ransomware gang pounced. Overnight, some 1,500 organisations were paralysed, from supermarkets in Sweden to schools in New Zealand. This was not an isolated close call. In a 2023 study with the University of Twente, DIVD found that less than half of Dutch municipalities acted promptly when notified of exploitable flaws in their email systems. In some cases, local authorities ignored the warnings entirely.
The trickster is no ordinary troublemaker. They are the necessary saboteur, the holy vandal, the one who pries open order just enough to let chaos breathe. Found in every corner of the world and across every era, the trickster is an ancient archetype dressed in local clothes — part comedian, part rebel, part divine disruption. They don’t simply play tricks; they expose the trick of the world itself. From the scheming spider Anansi to the gender-bending Loki, from Coyote’s dusty trails to Hermes’ winged heists, the trickster thrives in the cracks of civilisation — those uncomfortable in-between spaces where certainties collapse and new meanings ferment. If priests bless the structure and kings enforce it, the trickster questions the terms of the deal. They aren’t against the rules. They just want to know who wrote them and whether the ink is dry.
An uncomfortable truth: Every byte uploaded to AWS, Azure, or Google Cloud isn’t just data—it’s cloud capital. Coined by economist Yanis Varoufakis, the term captures how tech giants transform your digital activity into privatised infrastructure. It’s not merely about hosting files; it’s about hoarding power.
But there is an alternative: cloud-on-prem—a return to digital self-sufficiency.
An uncomfortable truth: Every byte uploaded to AWS, Azure, or Google Cloud isn’t just data—it’s cloud capital. Coined by economist Yanis Varoufakis, the term captures how tech giants transform your digital activity into privatised infrastructure. It’s not merely about hosting files; it’s about hoarding power. And right now, the United States holds the keys, turning Europe into a lodger in its digital manor. But there is an alternative: cloud-on-prem—a return to digital self-sufficiency—and European providers like Hetzner, who offer control, compliance, and a way to starve the beast. Think of it less as going backwards and more as refusing to pay rent to your colonial landlord.
