I've written about bearer tokens and how much pain they cause me before, but sadly wishing for a better world doesn't make it happen so I'm making do with what's available. Okta has a feature called Device Trust which allows to you configure access control policies that prevent people obtaining tokens unless they're using a trusted device. This doesn't actually bind the tokens to the hardware in any way, so if a device is compromised or if a user is untrustworthy this doesn't prevent the token ending up on an unmonitored system with no security policies. But it's an incremental improvement, other than the fact that for desktop it's only supported on Windows and MacOS, which really doesn't line up well with my interests.

Obviously there's nothing fundamentally magic about these platforms, so it seemed fairly likely that it would be possible to make this work elsewhere. I spent a while staring at the implementation using Charles Proxy and the Chrome developer tools network tab and had worked out a lot, and then Okta published a paper describing a lot of what I'd just laboriously figured out. But it did also help clear up some points of confusion and clarified some design choices. I'm not going to give a full description of the details (with luck there'll be code shared for that before too long), but here's an outline of how all of this works. Also, to be clear, I'm only going to talk about the desktop support here - mobile is a bunch of related but distinct things that I haven't looked at in detail yet.

Okta's Device Trust (as officially supported) relies on Okta Verify, a local agent. When initially installed, Verify authenticates as the user, obtains a token with a scope that allows it to manage devices, and then registers the user's computer as an additional MFA factor. This involves it generating a JWT that embeds a number of custom claims about the device and its state, including things like the serial number. This JWT is signed with a locally generated (and hardware-backed, using a TPM or Secure Enclave) key, which allows Okta to determine that any future updates from a device claiming the same identity are genuinely from the same device (you could construct an update with a spoofed serial number, but you can't copy the key out of a TPM so you can't sign it appropriately). This is sufficient to get a device registered with Okta, at which point it can be used with Fastpass, Okta's hardware-backed MFA mechanism.

As outlined in the aforementioned deep dive paper, Fastpass is implemented via multiple mechanisms. I'm going to focus on the loopback one, since it's the one that has the strongest security properties. In this mode, Verify listens on one of a list of 10 or so ports on localhost. When you hit the Okta signin widget, choosing Fastpass triggers the widget into hitting each of these ports in turn until it finds one that speaks Fastpass and then submits a challenge to it (along with the URL that's making the request). Verify then constructs a response that includes the challenge and signs it with the hardware-backed key, along with information about whether this was done automatically or whether it included forcing the user to prove their presence. Verify then submits this back to Okta, and if that checks out Okta completes the authentication.

Doing this via loopback from the browser has a bunch of nice properties, primarily around the browser providing information about which site triggered the request. This means the Verify agent can make a decision about whether to submit something there (ie, if a fake login widget requests your creds, the agent will ignore it), and also allows the issued token to be cross-checked against the site that requested it (eg, if g1thub.com requests a token that's valid for github.com, that's a red flag). It's not quite at the same level as a hardware WebAuthn token, but it has many of the anti-phishing properties.

But none of this actually validates the device identity! The entire registration process is up to the client, and clients are in a position to lie. Someone could simply reimplement Verify to lie about, say, a device serial number when registering, and there'd be no proof to the contrary. Thankfully there's another level to this to provide stronger assurances. Okta allows you to provide a CA root[1]. When Okta issues a Fastpass challenge to a device the challenge includes a list of the trusted CAs. If a client has a certificate that chains back to that, it can embed an additional JWT in the auth JWT, this one containing the certificate and signed with the certificate's private key. This binds the CA-issued identity to the Fastpass validation, and causes the device to start appearing as "Managed" in the Okta device management UI. At that point you can configure policy to restrict various apps to managed devices, ensuring that users are only able to get tokens if they're using a device you've previously issued a certificate to.

I've managed to get Linux tooling working with this, though there's still a few drawbacks. The main issue is that the API only allows you to register devices that declare themselves as Windows or MacOS, followed by the login system sniffing browser user agent and only offering Fastpass if you're on one of the officially supported platforms. This can be worked around with an extension that spoofs user agent specifically on the login page, but that's still going to result in devices being logged as a non-Linux OS which makes interpreting the logs more difficult. There's also no ability to choose which bits of device state you log: there's a couple of existing integrations, and otherwise a fixed set of parameters that are reported. It'd be lovely to be able to log arbitrary material and make policy decisions based on that.

This also doesn't help with ChromeOS. There's no real way to automatically launch something that's bound to localhost (you could probably make this work using Crostini but there's no way to launch a Crostini app at login), and access to hardware-backed keys is kind of a complicated topic in ChromeOS for privacy reasons. I haven't tried this yet, but I think using an enterprise force-installed extension and the chrome.enterprise.platformKeys API to obtain a device identity cert and then intercepting requests to the appropriate port range on localhost ought to be enough to do that? But I've literally never written any Javascript so I don't know. Okta supports falling back from the loopback protocol to calling a custom URI scheme, but once you allow that you're also losing a bunch of the phishing protection, so I'd prefer not to take that approach.

Like I said, none of this prevents exfiltration of bearer tokens once they've been issued, and there's still a lot of ecosystem work to do there. But ensuring that tokens can't be issued to unmanaged machines in the first place is still a step forwards, and with luck we'll be able to make use of this on Linux systems without relying on proprietary client-side tooling.

(Time taken to code this implementation: about two days, and under 1000 lines of new code. Time taken to figure out what the fuck to write: rather a lot longer)

[1] There's also support for having Okta issue certificates, but then you're kind of back to the "How do I know this is my device" situation

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Review: Postwar, by Tony Judt

Publisher:	Penguin Books
Copyright:	2005
ISBN:	1-4406-2476-3
Format:	Kindle
Pages:	835

Tony Judt (1948 2010) was a British-American historian and Erich Maria Remarque Professor in European Studies at New York University. Postwar is his magnum opus, a history of Europe from 1945 to 2005. A book described as a history of Europe could be anything from a textbook to a political analysis, so the first useful question to ask is what sort of history. That's a somewhat difficult question to answer. Postwar mentions a great deal of conventional history, including important political movements and changes of government, but despite a stated topic that would suit a survey textbook, it doesn't provide that sort of list of facts and dates. Judt expects the reader to already be familiar with the broad outlines of modern European history. However, Postwar is also not a specialty history and avoids diving too deep into any one area. Trends in art, philosophy, and economics are all mentioned to set a broader context, but still only at the level of a general survey. My best description is that Postwar is a comprehensive social and political history that attempts to focus less on specific events and more on larger trends of thought. Judt grounds his narrative in concrete, factual events, but the emphasis is on how those living in Europe, at each point in history, thought of their society, their politics, and their place in both. Most of the space goes to exploring those nuances of thought and day-to-day life. In the US university context, I'd place this book as an intermediate-level course in modern European history, after the survey course that provides students with a basic framework but before graduate-level specializations in specific topics. If you have not had a solid basic education in European history (and my guess is that most people from the US have not), Judt will provide the necessary signposts, but you should expect to need to look up the signposts you don't recognize. I, as the dubious beneficiary of a US high school history education now many decades in the past, frequently resorted to Wikipedia for additional background. Postwar uses a simple chronological structure in four parts: the immediate post-war years and the beginning of the Cold War (1945 1953), the era of rapidly growing western European prosperity (1953 1971), the years of recession and increased turmoil leading up to the collapse of communism (1971 1989), and the aftermath of the collapse of communism and the rise of the European Union (1989 2005). Each part is divided into four to eight long chapters that trace a particular theme. Judt usually starts with the overview of a theme and then follows the local manifestations of it on a spiral through European countries in whatever order seems appropriate. For the bulk of the book that covers the era of the Cold War, when experiences were drastically different inside or outside the Soviet bloc, he usually separates western and eastern Europe into alternating chapters. Reviewing this sort of book is tricky because so much will depend on how well you already know the topic. My interest in history is strictly amateur and I tend to avoid modern history (usually I find it too depressing), so for me this book was remedial, filling in large knowledge gaps that I ideally shouldn't have had. Postwar was a runner up for the Pulitzer Prize for General Non-Fiction, so I think I'm safe saying you won't go far wrong reading it, but here's the necessary disclaimer that the rest of my reactions may not be useful if you're better versed in modern European history than I was. (This would not be difficult.) That said, I found Postwar invaluable because of its big-picture focus. The events and dates are easy enough to find on the Internet; what was missing for me in understanding Europe was the intent and social structures created by and causing those events. For example, from early in the book:

On one thing, however, all were agreed resisters and politicians alike: "planning". The disasters of the inter-war decades the missed opportunities after 1918, the great depression that followed the stock-market crash of 1929, the waste of unemployment, the inequalities, injustices and inefficiencies of laissez-faire capitalism that had led so many into authoritarian temptation, the brazen indifference of an arrogant ruling elite and the incompetence of an inadequate political class all seemed to be connected by the utter failure to organize society better. If democracy was to work, if it was to recover its appeal, it would have to be planned.

It's one thing to be familiar with the basic economic and political arguments between degrees of free market and planned economies. It's quite another to understand how the appeal of one approach or the discredit of another stems from recent historical experience, and that's what a good history can provide. Judt does not hesitate to draw these sorts of conclusions, and I'm sure some of them are controversial. But while he's opinionated, he's rarely ideological, and he offers no grand explanations. His discussion of the Yugoslav Wars stands out as an example: he mentions various theories of blame (a fraught local ethnic history, the decision by others to not intervene until the situation was truly dire), but largely discards them. Judt's offered explanation is that local politicians saw an opportunity to gain power by inflaming ethnic animosity, and a large portion of the population participated in this process, either passively or eagerly. Other explanations are both unnecessarily complex and too willing to deprive Yugoslavs of agency. I found this refreshingly blunt. When is more complex analysis a way to diffuse responsibility and cling to an ideological fantasy that the right foreign policy would have resolved a problem? A few personal grumblings do creep in, particularly in the chapters on the 1970s (and I think it's not a coincidence that this matches Judt's own young adulthood, a time when one is prone to forming a lot of opinions). There is a brief but stinging criticism of postmodernism in scholarship, which I thought was justified but probably incomplete, and a decidedly grumpy dismissal of punk music, which I thought was less fair. But these are brief asides that don't detract from the overall work. Indeed, they, along with the occasional wry asides ("respecting long-established European practice, no one asked the Poles for their views [on Poland's new frontiers]") add a lot of character. Insofar as this book has a thesis, it's in the implications of the title: Europe only exited the postwar period at the end of the 20th century. Political stability through exhaustion, the overwhelming urgency of economic recovery, and the degree to which the Iron Curtain and the Cold War froze eastern Europe in amber meant that full European recovery from World War II was drawn out and at times suspended. It's only after 1989 and its subsequent upheavals that European politics were able to move beyond postwar concerns. Some of that movement was a reemergence of earlier European politics of nations and ethnic conflict. But, new on the scene, was a sense of identity as Europeans, one that western Europe circled warily and eastern Europe saw as the only realistic path forward.

What binds Europeans together, even when they are deeply critical of some aspect or other of its practical workings, is what it has become conventional to call in disjunctive but revealing contrast with "the American way of life" the "European model of society".

Judt also gave me a new appreciation of how traumatic people find the assignment of fault, and how difficult it is to wrestle with guilt without providing open invitations to political backlash. People will go to great lengths to not feel guilty, and pressing the point runs a substantial risk of creating popular support for ideological movements that are willing to lie to their followers. The book's most memorable treatment of this observation is in the epilogue, which traces popular European attitudes towards the history of the Holocaust through the whole time period. The largest problem with this book is that it is dense and very long. I'm a fairly fast reader, but this was the only book I read through most of my holiday vacation and it still took a full week into the new year to finish it. By the end, I admit I was somewhat exhausted and ready to be finished with European history for a while (although the epilogue is very much worth waiting for). If you, unlike me, can read a book slowly among other things, that may be a good tactic. But despite feeling like this was a slog at times, I'm very glad that I read it. I'm not sure if someone with a firmer grounding in European history would have gotten as much out of it, but I, at least, needed something this comprehensive to wrap my mind around the timeline and fill in some embarrassing gaps. Judt is not the most entertaining writer (although he has his moments), and this is not the sort of popular history that goes out of its way to draw you in, but I found it approachable and clear. If you're looking for a solid survey of modern European history with this type of high-level focus, recommended. Rating: 8 out of 10

In my three most recent posts, I went over the memoirs and biographies, classics and fiction books that I enjoyed the most in 2022. But in the last of my book-related posts for 2022, I'll be going over my favourite works of non-fiction. Books that just missed the cut here include Adam Hochschild's King Leopold's Ghost (1998) on the role of Leopold II of Belgium in the Congo Free State, Johann Hari's Stolen Focus (2022) (a personal memoir on relating to how technology is increasingly fragmenting our attention), Amia Srinivasan's The Right to Sex (2021) (a misleadingly named set of philosophic essays on feminism), Dana Heller et al.'s The Selling of 9/11: How a National Tragedy Became a Commodity (2005), John Berger's mindbending Ways of Seeing (1972) and Louise Richardson's What Terrorists Want (2006).

The Great War and Modern Memory (1975)
Wartime: Understanding and Behavior in the Second World War (1989) Paul Fussell Rather than describe the battles, weapons, geopolitics or big personalities of the two World Wars, Paul Fussell's The Great War and Modern Memory & Wartime are focused instead on how the two wars have been remembered by their everyday participants. Drawing on the memoirs and memories of soldiers and civilians along with a brief comparison with the actual events that shaped them, Fussell's two books are a compassionate, insightful and moving piece of analysis. Fussell primarily sets himself against the admixture of nostalgia and trauma that obscures the origins and unimaginable experience of participating in these wars; two wars that were, in his view, a "perceptual and rhetorical scandal from which total recovery is unlikely." He takes particular aim at the dishonesty of hindsight:

For the past fifty years, the Allied war has been sanitised and romanticised almost beyond recognition by the sentimental, the loony patriotic, the ignorant and the bloodthirsty. I have tried to balance the scales. [And] in unbombed America especially, the meaning of the war [seems] inaccessible.

The author does not engage in any of the customary rose-tinted view of war, yet he remains understanding and compassionate towards those who try to locate a reason within what was quite often senseless barbarism. If anything, his despondency and pessimism about the Second World War (the war that Fussell himself fought in) shines through quite acutely, and this is especially the case in what he chooses to quote from others:

"It was common [ ] throughout the [Okinawa] campaign for replacements to get hit before we even knew their names. They came up confused, frightened, and hopeful, got wounded or killed, and went right back to the rear on the route by which they had come, shocked, bleeding, or stiff. They were forlorn figures coming up to the meat grinder and going right back out of it like homeless waifs, unknown and faceless to us, like unread books on a shelf."

It would take a rather heartless reader to fail to be sobered by this final simile, and an even colder one to view Fussell's citation of such an emotive anecdote to be manipulative. Still, stories and cruel ironies like this one infuse this often-angry book, but it is not without astute and shrewd analysis as well, especially on the many qualitative differences between the two conflicts that simply cannot be captured by facts and figures alone. For example:

A measure of the psychological distance of the Second [World] War from the First is the rarity, in 1914 1918, of drinking and drunkenness poems.

Indeed so. In fact, what makes Fussell's project so compelling and perhaps even unique is that he uses these non-quantitive measures to try and take stock of what happened. After all, this was a war conducted by humans, not the abstract school of statistics. And what is the value of a list of armaments destroyed by such-and-such a regiment when compared with truly consequential insights into both how the war affected, say, the psychology of postwar literature ("Prolonged trench warfare, whether enacted or remembered, fosters paranoid melodrama, which I take to be a primary mode in modern writing."), the specific words adopted by combatants ("It is a truism of military propaganda that monosyllabic enemies are easier to despise than others") as well as the very grammar of interaction:

The Field Service Post Card [in WW1] has the honour of being the first widespread exemplary of that kind of document which uniquely characterises the modern world: the "Form". [And] as the first widely known example of dehumanised, automated communication, the post card popularised a mode of rhetoric indispensable to the conduct of later wars fought by great faceless conscripted armies.

And this wouldn't be a book review without argument-ending observations that:

Indicative of the German wartime conception [of victory] would be Hitler and Speer's elaborate plans for the ultimate reconstruction of Berlin, which made no provision for a library.

Our myths about the two world wars possess an undisputed power, in part because they contain an essential truth the atrocities committed by Germany and its allies were not merely extreme or revolting, but their full dimensions (embodied in the Holocaust and the Holodomor) remain essentially inaccessible within our current ideological framework. Yet the two wars are better understood as an abyss in which we were all dragged into the depths of moral depravity, rather than a battle pitched by the forces of light against the forces of darkness. Fussell is one of the few observers that can truly accept and understand this truth and is still able to speak to us cogently on the topic from the vantage point of experience. The Second World War which looms so large in our contemporary understanding of the modern world (see below) may have been necessary and unavoidable, but Fussell convinces his reader that it was morally complicated "beyond the power of any literary or philosophic analysis to suggest," and that the only way to maintain a na ve belief in the myth that these wars were a Manichaean fight between good and evil is to overlook reality. There are many texts on the two World Wars that can either stir the intellect or move the emotions, but Fussell's two books do both. A uniquely perceptive and intelligent commentary; outstanding.

Longitude (1995) Dava Sobel Since Man first decided to sail the oceans, knowing one's location has always been critical. Yet doing so reliably used to be a serious problem if you didn't know where you were, you are far more likely to die and/or lose your valuable cargo. But whilst finding one's latitude (ie. your north south position) had effectively been solved by the beginning of the 17th century, finding one's (east west) longitude was far from trustworthy in comparison. This book first published in 1995 is therefore something of an anachronism. As in, we readily use the GPS facilities of our phones today without hesitation, so we find it difficult to imagine a reality in which knowing something fundamental like your own location is essentially unthinkable. It became clear in the 18th century, though, that in order to accurately determine one's longitude, what you actually needed was an accurate clock. In Longitude, therefore, we read of the remarkable story of John Harrison and his quest to create a timepiece that would not only keep time during a long sea voyage but would survive the rough ocean conditions as well. Self-educated and a carpenter by trade, Harrison made a number of important breakthroughs in keeping accurate time at sea, and Longitude describes his novel breakthroughs in a way that is both engaging and without talking down to the reader. Still, this book covers much more than that, including the development of accurate longitude going hand-in-hand with advancements in cartography as well as in scientific experiments to determine the speed of light: experiments that led to the formulation of quantum mechanics. It also outlines the work being done by Harrison's competitors. 'Competitors' is indeed the correct word here, as Parliament offered a huge prize to whoever could create such a device, and the ramifications of this tremendous financial incentive are an essential part of this story. For the most part, though, Longitude sticks to the story of Harrison and his evolving obsession with his creating the perfect timepiece. Indeed, one reason that Longitude is so resonant with readers is that many of the tropes of the archetypical 'English inventor' are embedded within Harrison himself. That is to say, here is a self-made man pushing against the establishment of the time, with his groundbreaking ideas being underappreciated in his life, or dishonestly purloined by his intellectual inferiors. At the level of allegory, then, I am minded to interpret this portrait of Harrison as a symbolic distillation of postwar Britain a nation acutely embarrassed by the loss of the Empire that is now repositioning itself as a resourceful but plucky underdog; a country that, with a combination of the brains of boffins and a healthy dose of charisma and PR, can still keep up with the big boys. (It is this same search for postimperial meaning I find in the fiction of John le Carr , and, far more famously, in the James Bond franchise.) All of this is left to the reader, of course, as what makes Longitute singularly compelling is its gentle manner and tone. Indeed, at times it was as if the doyenne of sci-fi Ursula K. LeGuin had a sideline in popular non-fiction. I realise it's a mark of critical distinction to downgrade the importance of popular science in favour of erudite academic texts, but Latitude is ample evidence that so-called 'pop' science need not be patronising or reductive at all.

Closed Chambers: The Rise, Fall, and Future of the Modern Supreme Court (1998) Edward Lazarus After the landmark decision by the U.S. Supreme Court in *Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization that ended the Constitutional right to abortion conferred by Roe v Wade, I prioritised a few books in the queue about the judicial branch of the United States. One of these books was Closed Chambers, which attempts to assay, according to its subtitle, "The Rise, Fall and Future of the Modern Supreme Court". This book is not merely simply a learned guide to the history and functioning of the Court (although it is completely creditable in this respect); it's actually an 'insider' view of the workings of the institution as Lazurus was a clerk for Justice Harry Blackmun during the October term of 1988. Lazarus has therefore combined his experience as a clerk and his personal reflections (along with a substantial body of subsequent research) in order to communicate the collapse in comity between the Justices. Part of this book is therefore a pure history of the Court, detailing its important nineteenth-century judgements (such as Dred Scott which ruled that the Constitution did not consider Blacks to be citizens; and Plessy v. Ferguson which failed to find protection in the Constitution against racial segregation laws), as well as many twentieth-century cases that touch on the rather technical principle of substantive due process. Other layers of Lazurus' book are explicitly opinionated, however, and they capture the author's assessment of the Court's actions in the past and present [1998] day. Given the role in which he served at the Court, particular attention is given by Lazarus to the function of its clerks. These are revealed as being far more than the mere amanuenses they were hitherto believed to be. Indeed, the book is potentially unique in its the claim that the clerks have played a pivotal role in the deliberations, machinations and eventual rulings of the Court. By implication, then, the clerks have plaedy a crucial role in the internal controversies that surround many of the high-profile Supreme Court decisions decisions that, to the outsider at least, are presented as disinterested interpretations of Constitution of the United States. This is of especial importance given that, to Lazarus, "for all the attention we now pay to it, the Court remains shrouded in confusion and misunderstanding." Throughout his book, Lazarus complicates the commonplace view that the Court is divided into two simple right vs. left political factions, and instead documents an ever-evolving series of loosely held but strongly felt series of cabals, quid pro quo exchanges, outright equivocation and pure personal prejudices. (The age and concomitant illnesses of the Justices also appears to have a not insignificant effect on the Court's rulings as well.) In other words, Closed Chambers is not a book that will be read in a typical civics class in America, and the only time the book resorts to the customary breathless rhetoric about the US federal government is in its opening chapter:

The Court itself, a Greek-style temple commanding the crest of Capitol Hill, loomed above them in the dim light of the storm. Set atop a broad marble plaza and thirty-six steps, the Court stands in splendid isolation appropriate to its place at the pinnacle of the national judiciary, one of the three independent and "coequal" branches of American government. Once dubbed the Ivory Tower by architecture critics, the Court has a Corinthian colonnade and massive twenty-foot-high bronze doors that guard the single most powerful judicial institution in the Western world. Lights still shone in several offices to the right of the Court's entrance, and [ ]

Et cetera, et cetera. But, of course, this encomium to the inherent 'nobility' of the Supreme Court is quickly revealed to be a narrative foil, as Lazarus soon razes this dangerously na ve conception to the ground:

[The] institution is [now] broken into unyielding factions that have largely given up on a meaningful exchange of their respective views or, for that matter, a meaningful explication or defense of their own views. It is of Justices who in many important cases resort to transparently deceitful and hypocritical arguments and factual distortions as they discard judicial philosophy and consistent interpretation in favor of bottom-line results. This is a Court so badly splintered, yet so intent on lawmaking, that shifting 5-4 majorities, or even mere pluralities, rewrite whole swaths of constitutional law on the authority of a single, often idiosyncratic vote. It is also a Court where Justices yield great and excessive power to immature, ideologically driven clerks, who in turn use that power to manipulate their bosses and the institution they ostensibly serve.

Lazurus does not put forward a single, overarching thesis, but in the final chapters, he does suggest a potential future for the Court:

In the short run, the cure for what ails the Court lies solely with the Justices. It is their duty, under the shield of life tenure, to recognize the pathologies affecting their work and to restore the vitality of American constitutionalism. Ultimately, though, the long-term health of the Court depends on our own resolve on whom [we] select to join that institution.

Back in 1998, Lazurus might have had room for this qualified optimism. But from the vantage point of 2022, it appears that the "resolve" of the United States citizenry was not muscular enough to meet his challenge. After all, Lazurus was writing before Bush v. Gore in 2000, which arrogated to the judicial branch the ability to decide a presidential election; the disillusionment of Barack Obama's failure to nominate a replacement for Scalia; and many other missteps in the Court as well. All of which have now been compounded by the Trump administration's appointment of three Republican-friendly justices to the Court, including hypocritically appointing Justice Barrett a mere 38 days before the 2020 election. And, of course, the leaking and ruling in Dobbs v. Jackson, the true extent of which has not been yet. Not of a bit of this is Lazarus' fault, of course, but the Court's recent decisions (as well as the liberal hagiographies of 'RBG') most perforce affect one's reading of the concluding chapters. The other slight defect of Closed Chambers is that, whilst it often implies the importance of the federal and state courts within the judiciary, it only briefly positions the Supreme Court's decisions in relation to what was happening in the House, Senate and White House at the time. This seems to be increasingly relevant as time goes on: after all, it seems fairly clear even to this Brit that relying on an activist Supreme Court to enact progressive laws must be interpreted as a failure of the legislative branch to overcome the perennial problems of the filibuster, culture wars and partisan bickering. Nevertheless, Lazarus' book is in equal parts ambitious, opinionated, scholarly and dare I admit it? wonderfully gossipy. By juxtaposing history, memoir, and analysis, Closed Chambers combines an exacting evaluation of the Court's decisions with a lively portrait of the intellectual and emotional intensity that has grown within the Supreme Court's pseudo-monastic environment all while it struggles with the most impactful legal issues of the day. This book is an excellent and well-written achievement that will likely never be repeated, and a must-read for anyone interested in this ever-increasingly important branch of the US government.

Crashed: How a Decade of Financial Crises Changed the World (2018)
Shutdown: How Covid Shook the World's Economy (2021) Adam Tooze The economic historian Adam Tooze has often been labelled as an unlikely celebrity, but in the fourteen years since the global financial crisis of 2008, a growing audience has been looking for answers about the various failures of the modern economy. Tooze, a professor of history at New York's Columbia University, has written much that is penetrative and thought-provoking on this topic, and as a result, he has generated something of a cult following amongst economists, historians and the online left. I actually read two Tooze books this year. The first, Crashed (2018), catalogues the scale of government intervention required to prop up global finance after the 2008 financial crisis, and it characterises the different ways that countries around the world failed to live up to the situation, such as doing far too little, or taking action far too late. The connections between the high-risk subprime loans, credit default swaps and the resulting liquidity crisis in the US in late 2008 is fairly well known today in part thanks to films such as Adam McKay's 2015 The Big Short and much improved economic literacy in media reportage. But Crashed makes the implicit claim that, whilst the specific and structural origins of the 2008 crisis are worth scrutinising in exacting detail, it is the reaction of states in the months and years after the crash that has been overlooked as a result. After all, this is a reaction that has not only shaped a new economic order, it has created one that does not fit any conventional idea about the way the world 'ought' to be run. Tooze connects the original American banking crisis to the (multiple) European debt crises with a larger crisis of liberalism. Indeed, Tooze somehow manages to cover all these topics and more, weaving in Trump, Brexit and Russia's 2014 annexation of Crimea, as well as the evolving role of China in the post-2008 economic order. Where Crashed focused on the constellation of consequences that followed the events of 2008, Shutdown is a clear and comprehensive account of the way the world responded to the economic impact of Covid-19. The figures are often jaw-dropping: soon after the disease spread around the world, 95% of the world's economies contracted simultaneously, and at one point, the global economy shrunk by approximately 20%. Tooze's keen and sobering analysis of what happened is made all the more remarkable by the fact that it came out whilst the pandemic was still unfolding. In fact, this leads quickly to one of the book's few flaws: by being published so quickly, Shutdown prematurely over-praises China's 'zero Covid' policy, and these remarks will make a reader today squirm in their chair. Still, despite the regularity of these references (after all, mentioning China is very useful when one is directly comparing economic figures in early 2021, for examples), these are actually minor blemishes on the book's overall thesis. That is to say, Crashed is not merely a retelling of what happened in such-and-such a country during the pandemic; it offers in effect a prediction about what might be coming next. Whilst the economic responses to Covid averted what could easily have been another Great Depression (and thus showed it had learned some lessons from 2008), it had only done so by truly discarding the economic rule book. The by-product of inverting this set of written and unwritten conventions that have governed the world for the past 50 years, this 'Washington consensus' if you well, has yet to be fully felt. Of course, there are many parallels between these two books by Tooze. Both the liquidity crisis outlined in Crashed and the economic response to Covid in Shutdown exposed the fact that one of the central tenets of the modern economy ie. that financial markets can be trusted to regulate themselves was entirely untrue, and likely was false from the very beginning. And whilst Adam Tooze does not offer a singular piercing insight (conveying a sense of rigorous mastery instead), he may as well be asking whether we're simply going to lurch along from one crisis to the next, relying on the technocrats in power to fix problems when everything blows up again. The answer may very well be yes.

Looking for the Good War: American Amnesia and the Violent Pursuit of Happiness (2021) Elizabeth D. Samet Elizabeth D. Samet's Looking for the Good War answers the following question what would be the result if you asked a professor of English to disentangle the complex mythology we have about WW2 in the context of the recent US exit of Afghanistan? Samet's book acts as a twenty-first-century update of a kind to Paul Fussell's two books (reviewed above), as well as a deeper meditation on the idea that each new war is seen through the lens of the previous one. Indeed, like The Great War and Modern Memory (1975) and Wartime (1989), Samet's book is a perceptive work of demystification, but whilst Fussell seems to have been inspired by his own traumatic war experience, Samet is not only informed by her teaching West Point military cadets but by the physical and ontological wars that have occurred during her own life as well. A more scholarly and dispassionate text is the result of Samet's relative distance from armed combat, but it doesn't mean Looking for the Good War lacks energy or inspiration. Samet shares John Adams' belief that no political project can entirely shed the innate corruptions of power and ambition and so it is crucial to analyse and re-analyse the role of WW2 in contemporary American life. She is surely correct that the Second World War has been universally elevated as a special, 'good' war. Even those with exceptionally giddy minds seem to treat WW2 as hallowed:

It is nevertheless telling that one of the few occasions to which Trump responded with any kind of restraint while he was in office was the 75th anniversary of D-Day in 2019.

What is the source of this restraint, and what has nurtured its growth in the eight decades since WW2 began? Samet posits several reasons for this, including the fact that almost all of the media about the Second World War is not only suffused with symbolism and nostalgia but, less obviously, it has been made by people who have no experience of the events that they depict. Take Stephen Ambrose, author of Steven Spielberg's Band of Brothers miniseries: "I was 10 years old when the war ended," Samet quotes of Ambrose. "I thought the returning veterans were giants who had saved the world from barbarism. I still think so. I remain a hero worshiper." If Looking for the Good War has a primary thesis, then, it is that childhood hero worship is no basis for a system of government, let alone a crusading foreign policy. There is a straight line (to quote this book's subtitle) from the "American Amnesia" that obscures the reality of war to the "Violent Pursuit of Happiness." Samet's book doesn't merely just provide a modern appendix to Fussell's two works, however, as it adds further layers and dimensions he overlooked. For example, Samet provides some excellent insight on the role of Western, gangster and superhero movies, and she is especially good when looking at noir films as a kind of kaleidoscopic response to the Second World War:

Noir is a world ruled by bad decisions but also by bad timing. Chance, which plays such a pivotal role in war, bleeds into this world, too.

Samet rightfully weaves the role of women into the narrative as well. Women in film noir are often celebrated as 'independent' and sassy, correctly reflecting their newly-found independence gained during WW2. But these 'liberated' roles are not exactly a ringing endorsement of this independence: the 'femme fatale' and the 'tart', etc., reflect a kind of conditional freedom permitted to women by a post-War culture which is still wedded to an outmoded honour culture. In effect, far from being novel and subversive, these roles for women actually underwrote the ambient cultural disapproval of women's presence in the workforce. Samet later connects this highly-conditional independence with the liberation of Afghan women, which:

is inarguably one of the more palatable outcomes of our invasion, and the protection of women's rights has been invoked on the right and the left as an argument for staying the course in Afghanistan. How easily consequence is becoming justification. How flattering it will be one day to reimagine it as original objective.

Samet has ensured her book has a predominantly US angle as well, for she ends her book with a chapter on the pseudohistorical Lost Cause of the Civil War. The legacy of the Civil War is still visible in the physical phenomena of Confederate statues, but it also exists in deep-rooted racial injustice that has been shrouded in euphemism and other psychological devices for over 150 years. Samet believes that a key part of what drives the American mythology about the Second World War is the way in which it subconsciously cleanses the horrors of brother-on-brother murder that were seen in the Civil War. This is a book that is not only of interest to historians of the Second World War; it is a work for anyone who wishes to understand almost any American historical event, social issue, politician or movie that has appeared since the end of WW2. That is for better or worse everyone on earth.

This post marks the beginning my yearly roundups of the favourite books and movies that I read and watched in 2022 that I plan to publish over the next few days. Just as I did for 2020 and 2021, I won't reveal precisely how many books I read in the last year. I didn't get through as many books as I did in 2021, though, but that's partly due to reading a significant number of long nineteenth-century novels in particular, a fair number of those books that American writer Henry James once referred to as "large, loose, baggy monsters." However, in today's post I'll be looking at my favourite books that are typically filed under fiction, with 'classic' fiction following tomorrow. Works that just missed the cut here include John O'Brien's Leaving Las Vegas, Colson Whitehead's Sag Harbor and possibly The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, or Elif Batuman's The Idiot. I also feel obliged to mention (or is that show off?) that I also read the 1,079-page Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace, but I can't say it was a favourite, let alone recommend others unless they are in the market for a good-quality under-monitor stand.

Mona (2021) Pola Oloixarac Mona is the story of a young woman who has just been nominated for the 'most important literary award in Europe'. Mona sees the nomination as a chance to escape her substance abuse on a Californian campus and so speedily decamps to the small village in the depths of Sweden where the nominees must convene for a week before the overall winner is announced. Mona didn't disappear merely to avoid pharmacological misadventures, though, but also to avoid the growing realisation that she is being treated as something of an anthropological curiosity at her university: a female writer of colour treasured for her flourish of exotic diversity that reflects well upon her department. But Mona is now stuck in the company of her literary competitors who all have now gathered from around the world in order to do what writers do: harbour private resentments, exchange empty flattery, embody the selfsame racialised stereotypes that Mona left the United States to avoid, stab rivals in the back, drink too much, and, of course, go to bed together. But as I read Mona, I slowly started to realise that something else is going on. Why does Mona keep finding traces of violence on her body, the origins of which she cannot or refuses to remember? There is something eerily defensive about her behaviour and sardonic demeanour in general as well. A genre-bending and mind-expanding novel unfolded itself, and, without getting into spoiler territory, Mona concludes with such a surprising ending that, according to Adam Thirlwell:

Perhaps we need to rethink what is meant by a gimmick. If a gimmick is anything that we want to reject as extra or excessive or ill-fitting, then it may be important to ask what inhibitions or arbitrary conventions have made it seem like excess, and to revel in the exorbitant fictional constructions it produces. [...]

Mona is a savage satire of the literary world, but it's also a very disturbing exploration of trauma and violence. The success of the book comes in equal measure from the author's commitment to both ideas, but also from the way the psychological damage component creeps up on you. And, as implied above, the last ten pages are quite literally out of this world.

My Brilliant Friend (2011)
The Story of a New Name (2012)
Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay (2013)
The Story of the Lost Child (2014) Elena Ferrante Elena Ferrante's Neopolitan Quartet follows two girls, both brilliant in their own way. Our protagonist-narrator is Elena, a studious girl from the lower rungs of the middle class of Naples who is inspired to be more by her childhood friend, Lila. Lila is, in turn, far more restricted by her poverty and class, but can transcend it at times through her fiery nature, which also brands her as somewhat unique within their inward-looking community. The four books follow the two girls from the perspective of Elena as they grow up together in post-war Italy, where they drift in-and-out of each other's lives due to the vicissitudes of change and the consequences of choice. All the time this is unfolding, however, the narrative is very always slightly charged by the background knowledge revealed on the very first page that Lila will, many years later, disappear from Elena's life. Whilst the quartet has the formal properties of a bildungsroman, its subject and conception are almost entirely different. In particular, the books are driven far more by character and incident than spectacular adventures in picturesque Italy. In fact, quite the opposite takes place: these are four books where ordinary-seeming occurrences take on an unexpected radiance against a background of poverty, ignorance, violence and other threats, often bringing to mind the films of the Italian neorealism movement. Brilliantly rendered from beginning to end, Ferrante has a seemingly studious eye for interpreting interactions and the psychology of adolescence and friendship. Some utterances indeed, perhaps even some glances are dissected at length over multiple pages, something that Vittorio De Sica's classic Bicycle Thieves (1948) could never do. Potential readers should not take any notice of the saccharine cover illustrations on most editions of the books. The quartet could even win an award for the most misleading artwork, potentially rivalling even Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it is revealed that the drippy illustrations and syrupy blurbs ("a rich, intense and generous-hearted story ") turn out to be part of a larger metatextual game that Ferrante is playing with her readers. This idiosyncratic view of mine is partially supported by the fact that each of the four books has been given a misleading title, the true ambiguity of which often only becomes clear as each of the four books comes into sharper focus. Readers of the quartet often fall into debating which is the best of the four. I've heard from more than one reader that one has 'too much Italian politics' and another doesn't have enough 'classic' Lina moments. The first book then possesses the twin advantages of both establishing the environs and finishing with a breathtaking ending that is both satisfying and a cliffhanger as well but does this make it 'the best'? I prefer to liken the quartet more like the different seasons of The Wire (2002-2008) where, personal favourites and preferences aside, although each season is undoubtedly unique, it would take a certain kind of narrow-minded view of art to make the claim that, say, series one of The Wire is 'the best' or that the season that focuses on the Baltimore docks 'is boring'. Not to sound like a neo-Wagnerian, but each of them adds to final result in its own. That is to say, both The Wire and the Neopolitan Quartet achieve the rare feat of making the magisterial simultaneously intimate.

Out There: Stories (2022) Kate Folk Out There is a riveting collection of disturbing short stories by first-time author Kate Fork. The title story first appeared in the New Yorker in early 2020 imagines a near-future setting where a group of uncannily handsome artificial men called 'blots' have arrived on the San Francisco dating scene with the secret mission of sleeping with women, before stealing their personal data from their laptops and phones and then (quite literally) evaporating into thin air. Folk's satirical style is not at all didactic, so it rarely feels like she is making her points in a pedantic manner. But it's clear that the narrator of Out There is recounting her frustration with online dating. in a way that will resonate with anyone who s spent time with dating apps or indeed the contemporary hyper-centralised platform-based internet in general. Part social satire, part ghost story and part comic tales, the blurring of the lines between these factors is only one of the things that makes these stories so compelling. But whilst Folk constructs crazy scenarios and intentionally strange worlds, she also manages to also populate them with characters that feel real and genuinely sympathetic. Indeed, I challenge you not to feel some empathy for the 'blot' in the companion story Big Sur which concludes the collection, and it complicates any primary-coloured view of the dating world of consisting entirely of predatory men. And all of this is leavened with a few stories that are just plain surreal. I don't know what the deal is with Dating a Somnambulist (available online on Hobart Pulp), but I know that I like it.

Solaris (1961) Stanislaw Lem When Kelvin arrives at the planet Solaris to study the strange ocean that covers its surface, instead of finding an entirely physical scientific phenomenon, he soon discovers a previously unconscious memory embodied in the physical manifestation of a long-dead lover. The other scientists on the space station slowly reveal that they are also plagued with their own repressed corporeal memories. Many theories are put forward as to why all this is occuring, including the idea that Solaris is a massive brain that creates these incarnate memories. Yet if that is the case, the planet's purpose in doing so is entirely unknown, forcing the scientists to shift focus and wonder whether they can truly understand the universe without first understanding what lies within their own minds and in their desires. This would be an interesting outline for any good science fiction book, but one of the great strengths of Solaris is not only that it withholds from the reader why the planet is doing anything it does, but the book is so forcefully didactic in its dislike of the hubris, destructiveness and colonial thinking that can accompany scientific exploration. In one of its most vitriolic passages, Lem's own anger might be reaching out to the reader:

We are humanitarian and chivalrous; we don t want to enslave other races, we simply want to bequeath them our values and take over their heritage in exchange. We think of ourselves as the Knights of the Holy Contact. This is another lie. We are only seeking Man. We have no need of other worlds. We need mirrors. We don t know what to do with other worlds. A single world, our own, suffices us; but we can t accept it for what it is. We are searching for an ideal image of our own world: we go in quest of a planet, of a civilisation superior to our own, but developed on the basis of a prototype of our primaeval past. At the same time, there is something inside us that we don t like to face up to, from which we try to protect ourselves, but which nevertheless remains since we don t leave Earth in a state of primal innocence. We arrive here as we are in reality, and when the page is turned, and that reality is revealed to us that part of our reality that we would prefer to pass over in silence then we don t like it anymore.

An overwhelming preoccupation with this idea infuses Solaris, and it turns out to be a common theme in a lot of Lem's work of this period, such as in his 1959 'anti-police procedural' The Investigation. Perhaps it not a dislike of exploration in general or the modern scientific method in particular, but rather a savage critique of the arrogance and self-assuredness that accompanies most forms of scientific positivism, or at least pursuits that cloak themselves under the guise of being a laudatory 'scientific' pursuit:

Man has gone out to explore other worlds and other civilizations without having explored his own labyrinth of dark passages and secret chambers and without finding what lies behind doorways that he himself has sealed.

I doubt I need to cite specific instances of contemporary scientific pursuits that might meet Lem's punishing eye today, and the fact that his critique works both in 2022 and 1961 perhaps tells us more about the human condition than we'd care to know. Another striking thing about Solaris isn't just the specific Star Trek and Stargate SG-1 episodes that I retrospectively realised were purloined from the book, but that almost the entire register of Star Trek: The Next Generation in particular seems to be rehearsed here. That is to say, TNG presents itself as hard and fact-based 'sci-fi' on the surface, but, at its core, there are often human, existential and sometimes quite enormously emotionally devastating human themes being discussed such as memory, loss and grief. To take one example from many, the painful memories that the planet Solaris physically materialises in effect asks us to seriously consider what it actually is taking place when we 'love' another person: is it merely another 'mirror' of ourselves? (And, if that is the case, is that... bad?) It would be ahistorical to claim that all popular science fiction today can be found rehearsed in Solaris, but perhaps it isn't too much of a stretch:

[Solaris] renders unnecessary any more alien stories. Nothing further can be said on this topic ...] Possibly, it can be said that when one feels the urge for such a thing, one should simply reread Solaris and learn its lessons again. Kim Stanley Robinson [...]

I could go on praising this book for quite some time; perhaps by discussing the extreme framing devices used within the book at one point, the book diverges into a lengthy bibliography of fictional books-within-the-book, each encapsulating a different theory about what the mechanics and/or function of Solaris is, thereby demonstrating that 'Solaris studies' as it is called within the world of the book has been going on for years with no tangible results, which actually leads to extreme embarrassment and then a deliberate and willful blindness to the 'Solaris problem' on the part of the book's scientific community. But I'll leave it all here before this review gets too long... Highly recommended, and a likely reread in 2023.

Brokeback Mountain (1997) Annie Proulx Brokeback Mountain began as a short story by American author Annie Proulx which appeared in the New Yorker in 1997, although it is now more famous for the 2005 film adaptation directed by Taiwanese filmmaker Ang Lee. Both versions follow two young men who are hired for the summer to look after sheep at a range under the 'Brokeback' mountain in Wyoming. Unexpectedly, however, they form an intense emotional and sexual attachment, yet life intervenes and demands they part ways at the end of the summer. Over the next twenty years, though, as their individual lives play out with marriages, children and jobs, they continue reuniting for brief albeit secret liaisons on camping trips in remote settings. There's no feigned shyness or self-importance in Brokeback Mountain, just a close, compassionate and brutally honest observation of a doomed relationship and a bone-deep feeling for the hardscrabble life in the post-War West. To my mind, very few books have captured so acutely the desolation of a frustrated and repressed passion, as well as the particular flavour of undirected anger that can accompany this kind of yearning. That the original novella does all this in such a beautiful way (and without the crutch of the Wyoming landscape to look at ) is a tribute to Proulx's skills as a writer. Indeed, even without the devasting emotional undertones, Proulx's descriptions of the mountains and scree of the West is likely worth the read alone.

Luster (2020) Raven Leilani Edie is a young Black woman living in New York whose life seems to be spiralling out of control. She isn't good at making friends, her career is going nowhere, and she has no close family to speak of as well. She is, thus, your typical NYC millennial today, albeit seen through a lens of Blackness that complicates any reductive view of her privilege or minority status. A representative paragraph might communicate the simmering tone:

Before I start work, I browse through some photos of friends who are doing better than me, then an article on a black teenager who was killed on 115th for holding a weapon later identified as a showerhead, then an article on a black woman who was killed on the Grand Concourse for holding a weapon later identified as a cell phone, then I drown myself in the comments section and do some online shopping, by which I mean I put four dresses in my cart as a strictly theoretical exercise and then let the page expire.

She starts a sort-of affair with an older white man who has an affluent lifestyle in nearby New Jersey. Eric or so he claims has agreed upon an 'open relationship' with his wife, but Edie is far too inappropriate and disinhibited to respect any boundaries that Eric sets for her, and so Edie soon becomes deeply entangled in Eric's family life. It soon turns out that Eric and his wife have a twelve-year-old adopted daughter, Akila, who is also wait for it Black. Akila has been with Eric's family for two years now and they aren t exactly coping well together. They don t even know how to help her to manage her own hair, let alone deal with structural racism. Yet despite how dark the book's general demeanour is, there are faint glimmers of redemption here and there. Realistic almost to the end, Edie might finally realise what s important in her life, but it would be a stretch to say that she achieves them by the final page. Although the book is full of acerbic remarks on almost any topic (Dogs: "We made them needy and physically unfit. They used to be wolves, now they are pugs with asthma."), it is the comments on contemporary race relations that are most critically insightful. Indeed, unsentimental, incisive and funny, Luster had much of what I like in Colson Whitehead's books at times, but I can't remember a book so frantically fast-paced as this since the Booker-prize winning The Sellout by Paul Beatty or Sam Tallent's Running the Light.

First up: what I'm covering here is probably not relevant for most people. That's ok! Different situations have different threat models, and if what I'm talking about here doesn't feel like you have to worry about it, that's great! Your life is easier as a result. But I have worked in situations where we had to care about some of the scenarios I'm going to describe here, and the technologies I'm going to talk about here solve a bunch of these problems.

So. You run a typical VM in the cloud. Who has access to that VM? Well, firstly, anyone who has the ability to log into the host machine with administrative capabilities. With enough effort, perhaps also anyone who has physical access to the host machine. But the hypervisor also has the ability to inspect what's running inside a VM, so anyone with the ability to install a backdoor into the hypervisor could theoretically target you. And who's to say the cloud platform launched the correct image in the first place? The control plane could have introduced a backdoor into your image and run that instead. Or the javascript running in the web UI that you used to configure the instance could have selected a different image without telling you. Anyone with the ability to get a (cleverly obfuscated) backdoor introduced into quite a lot of code could achieve that. Obviously you'd hope that everyone working for a cloud provider is honest, and you'd also hope that their security policies are good and that all code is well reviewed before being committed. But when you have several thousand people working on various components of a cloud platform, there's always the potential for something to slip up.

Let's imagine a large enterprise with a whole bunch of laptops used by developers. If someone has the ability to push a new package to one of those laptops, they're in a good position to obtain credentials belonging to the user of that laptop. That means anyone with that ability effectively has the ability to obtain arbitrary other privileges - they just need to target someone with the privilege they want. You can largely mitigate this by ensuring that the group of people able to do this is as small as possible, and put technical barriers in place to prevent them from pushing new packages unilaterally.

Now imagine this in the cloud scenario. Anyone able to interfere with the control plane (either directly or by getting code accepted that alters its behaviour) is in a position to obtain credentials belonging to anyone running in that cloud. That's probably a much larger set of people than have the ability to push stuff to laptops, but they have much the same level of power. You'll obviously have a whole bunch of processes and policies and oversights to make it difficult for a compromised user to do such a thing, but if you're a high enough profile target it's a plausible scenario.

How can we avoid this? The easiest way is to take the people able to interfere with the control plane out of the loop. The hypervisor knows what it booted, and if there's a mechanism for the VM to pass that information to a user in a trusted way, you'll be able to detect the control plane handing over the wrong image. This can be achieved using trusted boot. The hypervisor-provided firmware performs a "measurement" (basically a cryptographic hash of some data) of what it's booting, storing that information in a virtualised TPM. This TPM can later provide a signed copy of the measurements on demand. A remote system can look at these measurements and determine whether the system is trustworthy - if a modified image had been provided, the measurements would be different. As long as the hypervisor is trustworthy, it doesn't matter whether or not the control plane is - you can detect whether you were given the correct OS image, and you can build your trust on top of that.

(Of course, this depends on you being able to verify the key used to sign those measurements. On real hardware the TPM has a certificate that chains back to the manufacturer and uniquely identifies the TPM. On cloud platforms you typically have to retrieve the public key via the metadata channel, which means you're trusting the control plane to give you information about the hypervisor in order to verify what the control plane gave to the hypervisor. This is suboptimal, even though realistically the number of moving parts in that part of the control plane is much smaller than the number involved in provisioning the instance in the first place, so an attacker managing to compromise both is less realistic. Still, AWS doesn't even give you that, which does make it all rather more complicated)

Ok, so we can (largely) decouple our trust in the VM from having to trust the control plane. But we're still relying on the hypervisor to provide those attestations. What if the hypervisor isn't trustworthy? This sounds somewhat ridiculous (if you can't run a trusted app on top of an untrusted OS, how can you run a trusted OS on top of an untrusted hypervisor?), but AMD actually have a solution for that. SEV ("Secure Encrypted Virtualisation") is a technology where (handwavily) an encryption key is generated when a new VM is created, and the memory belonging to that VM is encrypted with that key. The hypervisor has no access to that encryption key, and any access to memory initiated by the hypervisor will only see the encrypted content. This means that nobody with the ability to tamper with the hypervisor can see what's going on inside the OS (and also means that nobody with physical access can either, so that's another threat dealt with).

But how do we know that the hypervisor set this up, and how do we know that the correct image was booted? SEV has support for a "Launch attestation", a CPU generated signed statement that it booted the current VM with SEV enabled. But it goes further than that! The attestation includes a measurement of what was booted, which means we don't need to trust the hypervisor at all - the CPU itself will tell us what image we were given. Perfect.

Except, well. There's a few problems. AWS just doesn't have any VMs that implement SEV yet (there are bare metal instances that do, but obviously you're building your own infrastructure to make that work). Google only seem to provide the launch measurement via the logging service - and they only include the parsed out data, not the original measurement. So, we still have to trust (a subset of) the control plane. Azure provides it via a separate attestation service, but again it doesn't seem to provide the raw attestation and so you're still trusting the attestation service. For the newest generation of SEV, SEV-SNP, this is less of a big deal because the guest can provide its own attestation. But Google doesn't offer SEV-SNP hardware yet, and the driver you need for this only shipped in Linux 5.19 and Azure's SEV Ubuntu images only offer up to 5.15 at the moment, so making use of that means you're putting your own image together at the moment.

And there's one other kind of major problem. A normal VM image provides a bootloader and a kernel and a filesystem. That bootloader needs to run on something. That "something" is typically hypervisor-provided "firmware" - for instance, OVMF. This probably has some level of cloud vendor patching, and they probably don't ship the source for it. You're just having to trust that the firmware is trustworthy, and we're talking about trying to avoid placing trust in the cloud provider. Azure has a private beta allowing users to upload images that include their own firmware, meaning that all the code you trust (outside the CPU itself) can be provided by the user, and once that's GA it ought to be possible to boot Azure VMs without having to trust any Microsoft-provided code.

Well, mostly. As AMD admit, SEV isn't guaranteed to be resistant to certain microarchitectural attacks. This is still much more restrictive than the status quo where the hypervisor could just read arbitrary content out of the VM whenever it wanted to, but it's still not ideal. Which, to be fair, is where we are with CPUs in general.

(Thanks to Leonard Cohnen who gave me a bunch of excellent pointers on this stuff while I was digging through it yesterday)

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Being able to SSH into remote machines and do work there is great. Using hardware security tokens for 2FA is also great. But trying to use them both at the same time doesn't work super well, because if you hit a WebAuthn request on the remote machine it doesn't matter how much you mash your token - it's not going to work.

But could it?

The SSH agent protocol abstracts key management out of SSH itself and into a separate process. When you run "ssh-add .ssh/id_rsa", that key is being loaded into the SSH agent. When SSH wants to use that key to authenticate to a remote system, it asks the SSH agent to perform the cryptographic signatures on its behalf. SSH also supports forwarding the SSH agent protocol over SSH itself, so if you SSH into a remote system then remote clients can also access your keys - this allows you to bounce through one remote system into another without having to copy your keys to those remote systems.

More recently, SSH gained the ability to store SSH keys on hardware tokens such as Yubikeys. If configured appropriately, this means that even if you forward your agent to a remote site, that site can't do anything with your keys unless you physically touch the token. But out of the box, this is only useful for SSH keys - you can't do anything else with this support.

Well, that's what I thought, at least. And then I looked at the code and realised that SSH is communicating with the security tokens using the same library that a browser would, except it ensures that any signature request starts with the string "ssh:" (which a genuine WebAuthn request never will). This constraint can actually be disabled by passing -O no-restrict-websafe to ssh-agent, except that was broken until this weekend. But let's assume there's a glorious future where that patch gets backported everywhere, and see what we can do with it.

First we need to load the key into the security token. For this I ended up hacking up the Go SSH agent support. Annoyingly it doesn't seem to be possible to make calls to the agent without going via one of the exported methods here, so I don't think this logic can be implemented without modifying the agent module itself. But this is basically as simple as adding another key message type that looks something like:

type ecdsaSkKeyMsg struct  
       Type        string  sshtype:"17 25" 
       Curve       string
       PubKeyBytes []byte
       RpId        string
       Flags       uint8
       KeyHandle   []byte
       Reserved    []byte
       Comments    string
       Constraints []byte  ssh:"rest" 
 

Where Type is ssh.KeyAlgoSKECDSA256, Curve is "nistp256", RpId is the identity of the relying party (eg, "webauthn.io"), Flags is 0x1 if you want the user to have to touch the key, KeyHandle is the hardware token's representation of the key (basically an opaque blob that's sufficient for the token to regenerate the keypair - this is generally stored by the remote site and handed back to you when it wants you to authenticate). The other fields can be ignored, other than PubKeyBytes, which is supposed to be the public half of the keypair.

This causes an obvious problem. We have an opaque blob that represents a keypair. We don't have the public key. And OpenSSH verifies that PubKeyByes is a legitimate ecdsa public key before it'll load the key. Fortunately it only verifies that it's a legitimate ecdsa public key, and does nothing to verify that it's related to the private key in any way. So, just generate a new ECDSA key (ecdsa.GenerateKey(elliptic.P256(), rand.Reader)) and marshal it ( elliptic.Marshal(ecKey.Curve, ecKey.X, ecKey.Y)) and we're good. Pass that struct to ssh.Marshal() and then make an agent call.

Now you can use the standard agent interfaces to trigger a signature event. You want to pass the raw challenge (not the hash of the challenge!) - the SSH code will do the hashing itself. If you're using agent forwarding this will be forwarded from the remote system to your local one, and your security token should start blinking - touch it and you'll get back an ssh.Signature blob. ssh.Unmarshal() the Blob member to a struct like

type ecSig struct  
        R *big.Int
        S *big.Int
 

and then ssh.Unmarshal the Rest member to

type authData struct  
        Flags    uint8
        SigCount uint32
 

The signature needs to be converted back to a DER-encoded ASN.1 structure (eg,

var b cryptobyte.Builder
b.AddASN1(asn1.SEQUENCE, func(b *cryptobyte.Builder)  
        b.AddASN1BigInt(ecSig.R)
        b.AddASN1BigInt(ecSig.S)
 )
signatureDER, _ := b.Bytes()

, and then you need to construct the Authenticator Data structure. For this, take the RpId used earlier and generate the sha256. Append the one byte Flags variable, and then convert SigCount to big endian and append those 4 bytes. You should now have a 37 byte structure. This needs to be CBOR encoded (I used github.com/fxamacker/cbor and just called cbor.Marshal(data, cbor.EncOptions )).

Now base64 encode the sha256 of the challenge data, the DER-encoded signature and the CBOR-encoded authenticator data and you've got everything you need to provide to the remote site to satisfy the challenge.

There are alternative approaches - you can use USB/IP to forward the hardware token directly to the remote system. But that means you can't use it locally, so it's less than ideal. Or you could implement a proxy that communicates with the key locally and have that tunneled through to the remote host, but at that point you're just reinventing ssh-agent.

And you should bear in mind that the default behaviour of blocking this sort of request is for a good reason! If someone is able to compromise a remote system that you're SSHed into, they can potentially trick you into hitting the key to sign a request they've made on behalf of an arbitrary site. Obviously they could do the same without any of this if they've compromised your local system, but there is some additional risk to this. It would be nice to have sensible MAC policies that default-denied access to the SSH agent socket and only allowed trustworthy binaries to do so, or maybe have some sort of reasonable flatpak-style portal to gate access. For my threat model I think it's a worthwhile security tradeoff, but you should evaluate that carefully yourself.

Anyway. Now to figure out whether there's a reasonable way to get browsers to work with this.

comments

More ICFP-inspired experiments using the rec-def library: In Norman Ramsey s very nice talk about his Functional Pearl Beyond Relooper: Recursive Translation of Unstructured Control Flow to Structured Control Flow , he had the following slide showing the equation for the dominators of a node in a graph:

Norman Ramsey shows a formula

He said it s ICFP and I wanted to say the dominance relation has a beautiful set of equations you can read all these algorithms how to compute this, but the concept is simple . This made me wonder: If the concept is simple and this formula is beautiful shouldn t this be sufficient for the Haskell programmer to obtain the dominator relation, without reading all those algorithms? Before we start, we have to clarify the formula a bit: If a node is an entry node (no predecessors) then the big intersection is over the empty set, and that is not a well-defined concept. For these nodes, we need that big intersection to return the empty set, as entry nodes are not dominated by any other node. (Let s assume that the entry nodes are exactly those with no predecessors.) Let s try, first using plain Haskell data structures. We begin by implementing this big intersection operator on Data.Set, and also a function to find the predecessors of a node in a graph: Now we can write down the formula that Norman gave, quite elegantly: Does this work? It seems it does: But not surprising if you have read my previous blog posts it falls over once we have recursion: So let us reimplement it with Data.Recursive.Set. The hope is that we can simply replace the operations, and that now it can suddenly handle cyclic graphs as well. Let s see: It does! Well, it does return a result but it looks strange. Clearly node 3 and 4 are also dominated by 1, but the result does not reflect that. But the result is a solution to Norman s equation. Was the equation wrong? No, but we failed to notice that the desired solution is the largest, not the smallest. And Data.Recursive.Set calculates, as documented, the least fixed point. What now? Until the library has code for RDualSet a, we can work around this by using the dual formula to calculate the non-dominators. To do this, we

• use union instead of intersection
• delete instead of insert,
• S.empty, use the set of all nodes (which requires some extra plumbing)
• subtract the result from the set of all nodes to get the dominators

and thus the code turns into: And with this, now we do get the correct result:

ghci> domintors3 [(1,2),(1,3),(2,4),(3,4),(4,3)]
fromList [(1,[1]),(2,[1,2]),(3,[1,3]),(4,[1,4])]

We worked a little bit on how to express the beautiful formula to Haskell, but at no point did we have to think about how to solve it. To me, this is the essence of declarative programming.

It's been a while since I posted one of these! Or, really, much of anything else. Busy and distracted this summer and a bit behind on a wide variety of things at the moment, although thankfully not in a bad way. Sara Alfageeh & Nadia Shammas Squire (graphic novel)
Travis Baldree Legends & Lattes (sff)
Leigh Bardugo Six of Crows (sff)
Miles Cameron Artifact Space (sff)
Robert Caro The Power Broker (nonfiction)
Kate Elliott Servant Mage (sff)
Nicola Griffith Spear (sff)
Alix E. Harrow A Mirror Mended (sff)
Tony Judt Postwar (nonfiction)
T. Kingfisher Nettle & Bone (sff)
Matthys Levy & Mario Salvadori Why Buildings Fall Down (nonfiction)
Lev Menand The Fed Unbound (nonfiction)
Courtney Milan Trade Me (romance)
Elie Mystal Allow Me to Retort (nonfiction)
Quenby Olson Miss Percy's Pocket Guide (sff)
Anu Partanen The Nordic Theory of Everything (nonfiction)
Terry Pratchett Hogfather (sff)
Terry Pratchett Jingo (sff)
Terry Pratchett The Last Continent (sff)
Terry Pratchett Carpe Jugulum (sff)
Terry Pratchett The Fifth Elephant (sff)
Terry Pratchett The Truth (sff)
Victor Ray On Critical Race Theory (nonfiction)
Richard Roberts A Spaceship Repair Girl Supposedly Named Rachel (sff)
Nisi Shawl & Latoya Peterson (ed.) Black Stars (sff anthology)
John Scalzi The Kaiju Preservation Society (sff)
James C. Scott Seeing Like a State (nonfiction)
Mary Sisson Trang (sff)
Mary Sisson Trust (sff)
Benjanun Sriduangkaew And Shall Machines Surrender (sff)
Lea Ypi Free (nonfiction)
It's been long enough that I've already read and reviewed some of these. Already read and pending review are the next two Pratchett novels in my slow progress working through them. Had to catch up with the Tor.com re-read series. So many books and quite definitely not enough time at the moment, although I've been doing better at reading this summer than last summer!

Background Internet email is becoming more reliant on DKIM, a scheme for having mail servers cryptographically sign emails. The Big Email providers have started silently spambinning messages that lack either DKIM signatures, or SPF. DKIM is arguably less broken than SPF, so I wanted to deploy it. But it has a problem: if done in a naive way, it makes all your emails non-repudiable, forever. This is not really a desirable property - at least, not desirable for you, although it can be nice for someone who (for example) gets hold of leaked messages obtained by hacking mailboxes. This problem was described at some length in Matthew Green s article Ok Google: please publish your DKIM secret keys. Following links from that article does get you to a short script to achieve key rotation but it had a number of problems, and wasn t useable in my context. dkim-rotate So I have written my own software for rotating and revoking DKIM keys: dkim-rotate. I think it is a good solution to this problem, and it ought to be deployable in many contexts (and readily adaptable to those it doesn t already support). Here s the feature list taken from the README:

• Leaked emails become unattestable (plausibily deniable) within a few days soon after the configured maximum email propagation time.
• Mail domain DNS configuration can be static, and separated from operational DKIM key rotation. Domain owner delegates DKIM configuration to mailserver administrator, so that dkim-rotate does not need to edit your mail domain s zone.
• When a single mail server handles multiple mail domains, only a single dkim-rotate instance is needed.
• Supports situations where multiple mail servers may originate mails for a single mail domain.
• DNS zonefile remains small; old keys are published via a webserver, rather than DNS.
• Supports runtime (post-deployment) changes to tuning parameters and configuration settings. Careful handling of errors and out-of-course situations.
• Convenient outputs: a standard DNS zonefile; easily parseable settings for the MTA; and, a directory of old keys directly publishable by a webserver.

Complications It seems like it should be a simple problem. Keep N keys, and every day (or whatever), generate and start using a new key, and deliberately leak the oldest private key. But, things are more complicated than that. Considerably more complicated, as it turns out. I didn t want the DKIM key rotation software to have to edit the actual DNS zones for each relevant mail domain. That would tightly entangle the mail server administration with the DNS administration, and there are many contexts (including many of mine) where these roles are separated. The solution is to use DNS aliases (CNAME). But, now we need a fixed, relatively small, set of CNAME records for each mail domain. That means a fixed, relatively small set of key identifiers ( selectors in DKIM terminology), which must be used in rotation. We don t want the private keys to be published via the DNS because that makes an ever-growing DNS zone, which isn t great for performance; and, because we want to place barriers in the way of processes which might enumerate the set of keys we use (and the set of keys we have leaked) and keep records of what status each key had when. So we need a separate publication channel - for which a webserver was the obvious answer. We want the private keys to be readily noticeable and findable by someone who is verifying an alleged leaked email dump, but to be hard to enumerate. (One part of the strategy for this is to leave a note about it, with the prospective private key url, in the email headers.) The key rotation operations are more complicated than first appears, too. The short summary, above, neglects to consider the fact that DNS updates have a nonzero propagation time: if you change the DNS, not everyone on the Internet will experience the change immediately. So as well as a timeout for how long it might take an email to be delivered (ie, how long the DKIM signature remains valid), there is also a timeout for how long to wait after updating the DNS, before relying on everyone having got the memo. (This same timeout applies both before starting to sign emails with a new key, and before deliberately compromising a key which has been withdrawn and deadvertised.) Updating the DNS, and the MTA configuration, are fallible operations. So we need to cope with out-of-course situations, where a previous DNS or MTA update failed. In that case, we need to retry the failed update, and not proceed with key rotation. We mustn t start the timer for the key rotation until the update has been implemented. The rotation script will usually be run by cron, but it might be run by hand, and when it is run by hand it ought not to jump the gun and do anything too early (ie, before the relevant timeout has expired). cron jobs don t always run, and don t always run at precisely the right time. (And there s daylight saving time, to consider, too.) So overall, it s not sufficient to drive the system via cron and have it proceed by one unit of rotation on each run. And, hardest of all, I wanted to support post-deployment configuration changes, while continuing to keep the whole the system operational. Otherwise, you have to bake in all the timing parameters right at the beginning and can t change anything ever. So for example, I wanted to be able to change the email and DNS propagation delays, and even the number of selectors to use, without adversely affecting the delivery of already-sent emails, and without having to shut anything down. I think I have solved these problems. The resulting system is one which keeps track of the timing constraints, and the next event which might occur, on a per-key basis. It calculates on each run, which key(s) can be advanced to the next stage of their lifecycle, and performs the appropriate operations. The regular key update schedule is then an emergent property of the config parameters and cron job schedule. (I provide some example config.) Exim Integrating dkim-rotate itself with Exim was fairly easy. The lsearch lookup function can be used to fish information out of a suitable data file maintained by dkim-rotate. But a final awkwardness was getting Exim to make the right DKIM signatures, at the right time. When making a DKIM signature, one must choose a signing authority domain name: who should we claim to be? (This is the SDID in DKIM terms.) A mailserver that handles many different mail domains will be able to make good signatures on behalf of many of them. It seems to me that domain to be the mail domain in the From: header of the email. (The RFC doesn t seem to be clear on what is expected.) Exim doesn t seem to have anything builtin to do that. And, you only want to DKIM-sign emails that are originated locally or from trustworthy sources. You don t want to DKIM-sign messages that you received from the global Internet, and are sending out again (eg because of an email alias or mailing list). In theory if you verify DKIM on all incoming emails, you could avoid being fooled into signing bad emails, but rejecting all non-DKIM-verified email would be a very strong policy decision. Again, Exim doesn t seem to have cooked machinery. The resulting Exim configuration parameters run to 22 lines, and because they re parameters to an existing config item (the smtp transport) they can t even easily be deployed as a drop-in file via Debian s split config Exim configuration scheme. (I don t know if the file written for Exim s use by dkim-rotate would be suitable for other MTAs, but this part of dkim-rotate could easily be extended.) Conclusion I have today released dkim-rotate 0.4, which is the first public release for general use. I have it deployed and working, but it s new so there may well be bugs to work out. If you would like to try it out, you can get it via git from Debian Salsa. (Debian folks can also find it freshly in Debian unstable.)

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Welcome to the July 2022 report from the Reproducible Builds project! In our reports we attempt to outline the most relevant things that have been going on in the past month. As a brief introduction, the reproducible builds effort is concerned with ensuring no flaws have been introduced during this compilation process by promising identical results are always generated from a given source, thus allowing multiple third-parties to come to a consensus on whether a build was compromised. As ever, if you are interested in contributing to the project, please visit our Contribute page on our website.

Reproducible Builds summit 2022 Despite several delays, we are pleased to announce that registration is open for our in-person summit this year: November 1st November 3rd
The event will happen in Venice (Italy). We intend to pick a venue reachable via the train station and an international airport. However, the precise venue will depend on the number of attendees. Please see the announcement email for information about how to register.

Is reproducibility practical? Ludovic Court s published an informative blog post this month asking the important question: Is reproducibility practical?:

Our attention was recently caught by a nice slide deck on the methods and tools for reproducible research in the R programming language. Among those, the talk mentions Guix, stating that it is for professional, sensitive applications that require ultimate reproducibility , which is probably a bit overkill for Reproducible Research . While we were flattered to see Guix suggested as good tool for reproducibility, the very notion that there s a kind of reproducibility that is ultimate and, essentially, impractical, is something that left us wondering: What kind of reproducibility do scientists need, if not the ultimate kind? Is reproducibility practical at all, or is it more of a horizon?

The post goes on to outlines the concept of reproducibility, situating examples within the context of the GNU Guix operating system.

diffoscope diffoscope is our in-depth and content-aware diff utility. Not only can it locate and diagnose reproducibility issues, it can provide human-readable diffs from many kinds of binary formats. This month, Chris Lamb prepared and uploaded versions 218, 219 and 220 to Debian, as well as made the following changes:

• New features:
  • Support Haskell 9.x series files. [ ]
• Bug fixes:
  • Fix a regression introduced in version 207 where diffoscope would crash if one directory contained a directory that wasn t in the other. Thanks to Alderico Gallo for the testcase. [ ]
  • Don t traceback if we encounter an invalid Unicode character in Haskell versioning headers. [ ]
• Output improvements:
  • Improve output of Markdown and reStructuredText to use code blocks with highlighting. [ ]
• Codebase improvements:
  • Space out a file a little. [ ]
  • Update various copyright years. [ ]

Mailing list On our mailing list this month:

• Roland Clobus posted his Eleventh status update about reproducible [Debian] live-build ISO images, noting amongst many other things! that all major desktops build reproducibly with bullseye, bookworm and sid.
• Santiago Torres-Arias announced a Call for Papers (CfP) for a new SCORED conference, an academic workshop around software supply chain security . As Santiago highlights, this new conference invites reviewers from industry, open source, governement and academia to review the papers [and] I think that this is super important to tackle the supply chain security task .

Upstream patches The Reproducible Builds project attempts to fix as many currently-unreproducible packages as possible. This month, however, we submitted the following patches:

• Bernhard M. Wiedemann
  • openSUSE monthly report
  • acarsdec (embeds CPU info with march=native)
  • casacore (embeds CPU info with march=native)
  • kubernetes (uses random name of temporary directory)
  • setuptools/python-brotlicffi (toolchain, filesys/readdir)
  • sysstat (FTBFS in single CPU mode)
  • sundials (FTBFS in single CPU mode)
  • nim (FTBFS in single CPU mode)
  • doxygen/libzypp (toolchain readdir)
  • python-pyquil (build failure)
  • openssl-1_0_0 (build failure)
  • jsonrpc-glib (FTBFS in single CPU mode)
  • slurm (Link-Time Optimisation and .tar issues)
  • wasi-libc (sort the output from find)
• Chris Lamb:
  • #1015245 filed against libshumate.
  • #1015246 filed against zeal.
  • #1016186 filed against gappa.
• Philip Rinn:
  • #1014877 filed against cxref.
• Vagrant Cascadian:
  • #1014426 filed against cldump.
  • #1014428 filed against xmacro.
  • #1014559 filed against libloki.
  • #1014560 filed against ygl.
  • #1014561 filed against clp.
  • #1014564 filed against tvtime.
  • #1014789 filed against rdiff-backup-fs.

Reprotest reprotest is the Reproducible Builds project s end-user tool to build the same source code twice in widely and deliberate different environments, and checking whether the binaries produced by the builds have any differences. This month, the following changes were made:

• Holger Levsen:
  • Uploaded version 0.7.21 to Debian unstable as well as mark 0.7.22 development in the repository [ ].
  • Make diffoscope dependency unversioned as the required version is met even in Debian buster. [ ]
  • Revert an accidentally committed hunk. [ ]
• Mattia Rizzolo:
  • Apply a patch from Nick Rosbrook to not force the tests to run only against Python 3.9. [ ]
  • Run the tests through pybuild in order to run them against all supported Python 3.x versions. [ ]
  • Fix a deprecation warning in the setup.cfg file. [ ]
  • Close a new Debian bug. [ ]

Reproducible builds website A number of changes were made to the Reproducible Builds website and documentation this month, including:

• Arnout Engelen:
  • Add a link to recent May Contain Hackers 2022 conference talk slides. [ ]
• Chris Lamb:
  • Correct some grammar. [ ]
• Holger Levsen:
  • Add talk from FOSDEM 2015 presented by Holger and Lunar. [ ]
  • Show date of presentations if we have them. [ ][ ]
  • Add my presentation from DebConf22 [ ] and from Debian Reunion Hamburg 2022 [ ].
  • Add dhole to the speakers of the DebConf15 talk. [ ]
  • Add raboof s talk Reproducible Builds for Trustworthy Binaries from May Contain Hackers. [ ]
  • Drop some Debian-related suggested ideas which are not really relevant anymore. [ ]
  • Add a link to list of packages with patches ready to be NMUed. [ ]
• Mattia Rizzolo:
  • Add information about our upcoming event in Venice. [ ][ ][ ][ ]

Testing framework The Reproducible Builds project runs a significant testing framework at tests.reproducible-builds.org, to check packages and other artifacts for reproducibility. This month, Holger Levsen made the following changes:

• Debian-related changes:
  • Create graphs displaying existing .buildinfo files per each Debian suite/arch. [ ][ ]
  • Fix a typo in the Debian dashboard. [ ][ ]
  • Fix some issues in the pkg-r package set definition. [ ][ ][ ]
  • Improve the builtin-pho HTML output. [ ][ ][ ][ ]
  • Temporarily disable all live builds as our snapshot mirror is offline. [ ]
• Automated node health checks:
  • Detect dpkg failures. [ ]
  • Detect files with bad UNIX permissions. [ ]
  • Relax a regular expression in order to detect Debian Live image build failures. [ ]
• Misc changes:
  • Test that FreeBSD virtual machine has been updated to version 13.1. [ ]
  • Add a reminder about powercycling the armhf-architecture mst0X node. [ ]
  • Fix a number of typos. [ ][ ]
  • Update documentation. [ ][ ]
  • Fix Munin monitoring configuration for some nodes. [ ]
  • Fix the static IP address for a node. [ ]

In addition, Vagrant Cascadian updated host keys for the cbxi4pro0 and wbq0 nodes [ ] and, finally, node maintenance was also performed by Mattia Rizzolo [ ] and Holger Levsen [ ][ ][ ].

Contact As ever, if you are interested in contributing to the Reproducible Builds project, please visit our Contribute page on our website. However, you can get in touch with us via:

• IRC: #reproducible-builds on irc.oftc.net.
• Twitter: @ReproBuilds
• Mailing list: rb-general@lists.reproducible-builds.org

After I mentioned that Lenovo are now shipping laptops that only boot Windows by default, a few people pointed to a Lenovo document that says:

Starting in 2022 for Secured-core PCs it is a Microsoft requirement for the 3rd Party Certificate to be disabled by default.

"Secured-core" is a term used to describe machines that meet a certain set of Microsoft requirements around firmware security, and by and large it's a good thing - devices that meet these requirements are resilient against a whole bunch of potential attacks in the early boot process. But unfortunately the 2022 requirements don't seem to be publicly available, so it's difficult to know what's being asked for and why. But first, some background.

Most x86 UEFI systems that support Secure Boot trust at least two certificate authorities:

1) The Microsoft Windows Production PCA - this is used to sign the bootloader in production Windows builds. Trusting this is sufficient to boot Windows.
2) The Microsoft Corporation UEFI CA - this is used by Microsoft to sign non-Windows UEFI binaries, including built-in drivers for hardware that needs to work in the UEFI environment (such as GPUs and network cards) and bootloaders for non-Windows.

The apparent secured-core requirement for 2022 is that the second of these CAs should not be trusted by default. As a result, drivers or bootloaders signed with this certificate will not run on these systems. This means that, out of the box, these systems will not boot anything other than Windows[1].

Given the association with the secured-core requirements, this is presumably a security decision of some kind. Unfortunately, we have no real idea what this security decision is intended to protect against. The most likely scenario is concerns about the (in)security of binaries signed with the third-party signing key - there are some legitimate concerns here, but I'm going to cover why I don't think they're terribly realistic.

The first point is that, from a boot security perspective, a signed bootloader that will happily boot unsigned code kind of defeats the point. Kaspersky did it anyway. The second is that even a signed bootloader that is intended to only boot signed code may run into issues in the event of security vulnerabilities - the Boothole vulnerabilities are an example of this, covering multiple issues in GRUB that could allow for arbitrary code execution and potential loading of untrusted code.

So we know that signed bootloaders that will (either through accident or design) execute unsigned code exist. The signatures for all the known vulnerable bootloaders have been revoked, but that doesn't mean there won't be other vulnerabilities discovered in future. Configuring systems so that they don't trust the third-party CA means that those signed bootloaders won't be trusted, which means any future vulnerabilities will be irrelevant. This seems like a simple choice?

There's actually a couple of reasons why I don't think it's anywhere near that simple. The first is that whenever a signed object is booted by the firmware, the trusted certificate used to verify that object is measured into PCR 7 in the TPM. If a system previously booted with something signed with the Windows Production CA, and is now suddenly booting with something signed with the third-party UEFI CA, the values in PCR 7 will be different. TPMs support "sealing" a secret - encrypting it with a policy that the TPM will only decrypt it if certain conditions are met. Microsoft make use of this for their default Bitlocker disk encryption mechanism. The disk encryption key is encrypted by the TPM, and associated with a specific PCR 7 value. If the value of PCR 7 doesn't match, the TPM will refuse to decrypt the key, and the machine won't boot. This means that attempting to attack a Windows system that has Bitlocker enabled using a non-Windows bootloader will fail - the system will be unable to obtain the disk unlock key, which is a strong indication to the owner that they're being attacked.

The second is that this is predicated on the idea that removing the third-party bootloaders and drivers removes all the vulnerabilities. In fact, there's been rather a lot of vulnerabilities in the Windows bootloader. A broad enough vulnerability in the Windows bootloader is arguably a lot worse than a vulnerability in a third-party loader, since it won't change the PCR 7 measurements and the system will boot happily. Removing trust in the third-party CA does nothing to protect against this.

The third reason doesn't apply to all systems, but it does to many. System vendors frequently want to ship diagnostic or management utilities that run in the boot environment, but would prefer not to have to go to the trouble of getting them all signed by Microsoft. The simple solution to this is to ship their own certificate and sign all their tooling directly - the secured-core Lenovo I'm looking at currently is an example of this, with a Lenovo signing certificate. While everything signed with the third-party signing certificate goes through some degree of security review, there's no requirement for any vendor tooling to be reviewed at all. Removing the third-party CA does nothing to protect the user against the code that's most likely to contain vulnerabilities.

Obviously I may be missing something here - Microsoft may well have a strong technical justification. But they haven't shared it, and so right now we're left making guesses. And right now, I just don't see a good security argument.

But let's move on from the technical side of things and discuss the broader issue. The reason UEFI Secure Boot is present on most x86 systems is that Microsoft mandated it back in 2012. Microsoft chose to be the only trusted signing authority. Microsoft made the decision to assert that third-party code could be signed and trusted.

We've certainly learned some things since then, and a bunch of things have changed. Third-party bootloaders based on the Shim infrastructure are now reviewed via a community-managed process. We've had a productive coordinated response to the Boothole incident, which also taught us that the existing revocation strategy wasn't going to scale. In response, the community worked with Microsoft to develop a specification for making it easier to handle similar events in future. And it's also worth noting that after the initial Boothole disclosure was made to the GRUB maintainers, they proactively sought out other vulnerabilities in their codebase rather than simply patching what had been reported. The free software community has gone to great lengths to ensure third-party bootloaders are compatible with the security goals of UEFI Secure Boot.

So, to have Microsoft, the self-appointed steward of the UEFI Secure Boot ecosystem, turn round and say that a bunch of binaries that have been reviewed through processes developed in negotiation with Microsoft, implementing technologies designed to make management of revocation easier for Microsoft, and incorporating fixes for vulnerabilities discovered by the developers of those binaries who notified Microsoft of these issues despite having no obligation to do so, and which have then been signed by Microsoft are now considered by Microsoft to be insecure is, uh, kind of impolite? Especially when unreviewed vendor-signed binaries are still considered trustworthy, despite no external review being carried out at all.

If Microsoft had a set of criteria used to determine whether something is considered sufficiently trustworthy, we could determine which of these we fell short on and do something about that. From a technical perspective, Microsoft could set criteria that would allow a subset of third-party binaries that met additional review be trusted without having to trust all third-party binaries[2]. But, instead, this has been a decision made by the steward of this ecosystem without consulting major stakeholders.

If there are legitimate security concerns, let's talk about them and come up with solutions that fix them without doing a significant amount of collateral damage. Don't complain about a vendor blocking your apps and then do the same thing yourself.

[Edit to add: there seems to be some misunderstanding about where this restriction is being imposed. I bought this laptop because I'm interested in investigating the Microsoft Pluton security processor, but Pluton is not involved at all here. The restriction is being imposed by the firmware running on the main CPU, not any sort of functionality implemented on Pluton]

[1] They'll also refuse to run any drivers that are stored in flash on Thunderbolt devices, which means eGPU setups may be more complicated, as will netbooting off Thunderbolt-attached NICs
[2] Use a different leaf cert to sign the new trust tier, add the old leaf cert to dbx unless a config option is set, leave the existing intermediate in db

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The Language Server Protocol (LSP) is a neat mechanism that provides a common interface to what used to be language-specific lookup mechanisms (like, say, running a Python interpreter in the background to find function definitions). There is also ctags shipped with UNIX since forever, but that doesn't support looking backwards ("who uses this function"), linting, or refactoring. In short, LSP rocks, and how do I use it right now in my editor of choice (Emacs, in my case) and OS (Debian) please?

Editor (emacs) setup First, you need to setup your editor. The Emacs LSP mode has pretty good installation instructions which, for me, currently mean:

apt install elpa-lsp-mode

and this .emacs snippet:

(use-package lsp-mode
  :commands (lsp lsp-deferred)
  :hook ((python-mode go-mode) . lsp-deferred)
  :demand t
  :init
  (setq lsp-keymap-prefix "C-c l")
  ;; TODO: https://emacs-lsp.github.io/lsp-mode/page/performance/
  ;; also note re "native compilation": <+varemara> it's the
  ;; difference between lsp-mode being usable or not, for me
  :config
  (setq lsp-auto-configure t))
(use-package lsp-ui
  :config
  (setq lsp-ui-flycheck-enable t)
  (add-to-list 'lsp-ui-doc-frame-parameters '(no-accept-focus . t))
  (define-key lsp-ui-mode-map [remap xref-find-definitions] #'lsp-ui-peek-find-definitions)
  (define-key lsp-ui-mode-map [remap xref-find-references] #'lsp-ui-peek-find-references))

Note: this configuration might have changed since I wrote this, see my init.el configuration for the most recent config. The main reason for choosing lsp-mode over eglot is that it's in Debian (and eglot is not). (Apparently, eglot has more chance of being upstreamed, "when it's done", but I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get there.) I already had lsp-mode partially setup in Emacs so I only had to do this small tweak to switch and change the prefix key (because s-l or mod is used by my window manager). I also had to pin LSP packages to bookworm here so that it properly detects pylsp (the older version in Debian bullseye only supports pyls, not packaged in Debian). This won't do anything by itself: Emacs will need something to talk with to provide the magic. Those are called "servers" and are basically different programs, for each programming language, that provide the magic.

Servers setup The Emacs package provides a way (M-x lsp-install-server) to install some of them, but I prefer to manage those tools through Debian packages if possible, just like lsp-mode itself. Those are the servers I currently know of in Debian:

package	languages
ccls	C, C++, ObjectiveC
clangd	C, C++, ObjectiveC
elpa-lsp-haskell	Haskell
fortran-language-server	Fortran
gopls	Golang
python3-pyls	Python

There might be more such packages, but those are surprisingly hard to find. I found a few with apt search "Language Server Protocol", but that didn't find ccls, for example, because that just said "Language Server" in the description (which also found a few more pyls plugins, e.g. black support). Note that the Python packages, in particular, need to be upgraded to their bookworm releases to work properly (here). It seems like there's some interoperability problems there that I haven't quite figured out yet. See also my Puppet configuration for LSP. Finally, note that I have now completely switched away from Elpy to pyls, and I'm quite happy with the results. lsp-mode feels slower than elpy but I haven't done any of the performance tuning and this will improve even more with native compilation. And lsp-mode is much more powerful. I particularly like the "rename symbol" functionality, which ... mostly works.

Remaining work

Puppet and Ruby I still have to figure how to actually use this: I mostly spend my time in Puppet these days, there is no server listed in the Emacs lsp-mode language list, but there is one listed over at the upstream language list, the puppet-editor-services server. But it's not packaged in Debian, and seems somewhat... involved. It could still be a good productivity boost. The Voxpupuli team have vim install instructions which also suggest installing solargraph, the Ruby language server, also not packaged in Debian.

Bash I guess I do a bit of shell scripting from time to time nowadays, even though I don't like it. So the bash-language-server may prove useful as well.

Other languages Here are more language servers available:

• upstream language list: all servers known to upstream
• Emacs lsp-mode language list: all servers known to the Emacs mode

As I mentioned last time, bearer tokens are not super compatible with a model in which every access is verified to ensure it's coming from a trusted device. Let's talk about that in a bit more detail.

First off, what is a bearer token? In its simplest form, it's simply an opaque blob that you give to a user after an authentication or authorisation challenge, and then they show it to you to prove that they should be allowed access to a resource. In theory you could just hand someone a randomly generated blob, but then you'd need to keep track of which blobs you've issued and when they should be expired and who they correspond to, so frequently this is actually done using JWTs which contain some base64 encoded JSON that describes the user and group membership and so on and then have a signature associated with them so whenever the user presents one you can just validate the signature and then assume that the contents of the JSON are trustworthy.

One thing to note here is that the crypto is purely between whoever issued the token and whoever validates the token - as far as the server is concerned, any client who can just show it the token is just fine as long as the signature is verified. There's no way to verify the client's state, so one of the core ideas of Zero Trust (that we verify that the client is in a trustworthy state on every access) is already violated.

Can we make things not terrible? Sure! We may not be able to validate the client state on every access, but we can validate the client state when we issue the token in the first place. When the user hits a login page, we do state validation according to whatever policy we want to enforce, and if the client violates that policy we refuse to issue a token to it. If the token has a sufficiently short lifetime then an attacker is only going to have a short period of time to use that token before it expires and then (with luck) they won't be able to get a new one because the state validation will fail.

Except! This is fine for cases where we control the issuance flow. What if we have a scenario where a third party authenticates the client (by verifying that they have a valid token issued by their ID provider) and then uses that to issue their own token that's much longer lived? Well, now the client has a long-lived token sitting on it. And if anyone copies that token to another device, they can now pretend to be that client.

This is, sadly, depressingly common. A lot of services will verify the user, and then issue an oauth token that'll expire some time around the heat death of the universe. If a client system is compromised and an attacker just copies that token to another system, they can continue to pretend to be the legitimate user until someone notices (which, depending on whether or not the service in question has any sort of audit logs, and whether you're paying any attention to them, may be once screenshots of your data show up on Twitter).

This is a problem! There's no way to fit a hosted service that behaves this way into a Zero Trust model - the best you can say is that a token was issued to a device that was, around that time, apparently trustworthy, and now it's some time later and you have literally no idea whether the device is still trustworthy or if the token is still even on that device.

But wait, there's more! Even if you're nowhere near doing any sort of Zero Trust stuff, imagine the case of a user having a bunch of tokens from multiple services on their laptop, and then they leave their laptop unlocked in a cafe while they head to the toilet and whoops it's not there any more, better assume that someone has access to all the data on there. How many services has our opportunistic new laptop owner gained access to as a result? How do we revoke all of the tokens that are sitting there on the local disk? Do you even have a policy for dealing with that?

There isn't a simple answer to all of these problems. Replacing bearer tokens with some sort of asymmetric cryptographic challenge to the client would at least let us tie the tokens to a TPM or other secure enclave, and then we wouldn't have to worry about them being copied elsewhere. But that wouldn't help us if the client is compromised and the attacker simply keeps using the compromised client. The entire model of simply proving knowledge of a secret being sufficient to gain access to a resource is inherently incompatible with a desire for fine-grained trust verification on every access, but I don't see anything changing until we have a standard for third party services to be able to perform that trust verification against a customer's policy.

Still, at least this means I can just run weird Android IoT apps through mitmproxy, pull the bearer token out of the request headers and then start poking the remote API with curl. It may all be broken, but it's also got me a bunch of bug bounty credit, so, it;s impossible to say if its bad or not,

(Addendum: this suggestion that we solve the hardware binding problem by simply passing all the network traffic through some sort of local enclave that could see tokens being set and would then sequester them and reinject them into later requests is OBVIOUSLY HORRIFYING and is also probably going to be at least three startup pitches by the end of next week)

comments

Traditional network access controls work by assuming that something is trustworthy based on some other factor - for example, if a computer is on your office network, it's trustworthy because only trustworthy people should be able to gain physical access to plug something in. If you restrict access to your services to requests coming from trusted networks, then you can assert that it's coming from a trusted device.

Of course, this isn't necessarily true. A machine on your office network may be compromised. An attacker may obtain valid VPN credentials. Someone could leave a hostile device plugged in under a desk in a meeting room. Trust is being placed in devices that may not be trustworthy.

A Zero Trust Architecture (ZTA) is one where a device is granted no inherent trust. Instead, each access to a service is validated against some policy - if the policy is satisfied, the access is permitted. A typical implementation involves granting each device some sort of cryptographic identity (typically a TLS client certificate) and placing the protected services behind a proxy. The proxy verifies the device identity, queries another service to obtain the current device state (we'll come back to that in a moment), compares the state against a policy and either pass the request through to the service or reject it. Different services can have different policies (eg, you probably want a lax policy around whatever's hosting the documentation for how to fix your system if it's being refused access to something for being in the wrong state), and if you want you can also tie it to proof of user identity in some way.

From a user perspective, this is entirely transparent. The proxy is made available on the public internet, DNS for the services points to the proxy, and every time your users try to access the service they hit the proxy instead and (if everything's ok) gain access to it no matter which network they're on. There's no need to connect to a VPN first, and there's no worries about accidentally leaking information over the public internet instead of over a secure link.

It's also notable that traditional solutions tend to be all-or-nothing. If I have some services that are more sensitive than others, the only way I can really enforce this is by having multiple different VPNs and only granting access to sensitive services from specific VPNs. This obviously risks combinatorial explosion once I have more than a couple of policies, and it's a terrible user experience.

Overall, ZTA approaches provide more security and an improved user experience. So why are we still using VPNs? Primarily because this is all extremely difficult. Let's take a look at an extremely recent scenario. A device used by customer support technicians was compromised. The vendor in question has a solution that can tie authentication decisions to whether or not a device has a cryptographic identity. If this was in use, and if the cryptographic identity was tied to the device hardware (eg, by being generated in a TPM), the attacker would not simply be able to obtain the user credentials and log in from their own device. This is good - if the attacker wanted to maintain access to the service, they needed to stay on the device in question. This increases the probability of the monitoring tooling on the compromised device noticing them.

Unfortunately, the attacker simply disabled the monitoring tooling on the compromised device. If device state was being verified on each access then this would be noticed before too long - the last data received from the device would be flagged as too old, and the requests would no longer satisfy any reasonable access control policy. Instead, the device was assumed to be trustworthy simply because it could demonstrate its identity. There's an important point here: just because a device belongs to you doesn't mean it's a trustworthy device.

So, if ZTA approaches are so powerful and user-friendly, why aren't we all using one? There's a few problems, but the single biggest is that there's no standardised way to verify device state in any meaningful way. Remote Attestation can both prove device identity and the device boot state, but the only product on the market that does much with this is Microsoft's Device Health Attestation. DHA doesn't solve the broader problem of also reporting runtime state - it may be able to verify that endpoint monitoring was launched, but it doesn't make assertions about whether it's still running. Right now, people are left trying to scrape this information from whatever tooling they're running. The absence of any standardised approach to this problem means anyone who wants to deploy a strong ZTA has to integrate with whatever tooling they're already running, and that then increases the cost of migrating to any other tooling later.

But even device identity is hard! Knowing whether a machine should be given a certificate or not depends on knowing whether or not you own it, and inventory control is a surprisingly difficult problem in a lot of environments. It's not even just a matter of whether a machine should be given a certificate in the first place - if a machine is reported as lost or stolen, its trust should be revoked. Your inventory system needs to tie into your device state store in order to ensure that your proxies drop access.

And, worse, all of this depends on you being able to put stuff behind a proxy in the first place! If you're using third-party hosted services, that's a problem. In the absence of a proxy, trust decisions are probably made at login time. It's possible to tie user auth decisions to device identity and state (eg, a self-hosted SAML endpoint could do that before passing through to the actual ID provider), but that's still going to end up providing a bearer token of some sort that can potentially be exfiltrated, and will continue to be trusted even if the device state becomes invalid.

ZTA doesn't solve all problems, and there isn't a clear path to it doing so without significantly greater industry support. But a complete ZTA solution is significantly more powerful than a partial one. Verifying device identity is a step on the path to ZTA, but in the absence of device state verification it's only a step.

comments

A friend recently reminded me of the existence of chrony, a "versatile implementation of the Network Time Protocol (NTP)". The excellent introduction is worth quoting in full:

It can synchronise the system clock with NTP servers, reference clocks (e.g. GPS receiver), and manual input using wristwatch and keyboard. It can also operate as an NTPv4 (RFC 5905) server and peer to provide a time service to other computers in the network. It is designed to perform well in a wide range of conditions, including intermittent network connections, heavily congested networks, changing temperatures (ordinary computer clocks are sensitive to temperature), and systems that do not run continuosly, or run on a virtual machine. Typical accuracy between two machines synchronised over the Internet is within a few milliseconds; on a LAN, accuracy is typically in tens of microseconds. With hardware timestamping, or a hardware reference clock, sub-microsecond accuracy may be possible.

Now that's already great documentation right there. What it is, why it's good, and what to expect from it. I want more. They have a very handy comparison table between chrony, ntp and openntpd.

My problem with OpenNTPd Following concerns surrounding the security (and complexity) of the venerable ntp program, I have, a long time ago, switched to using openntpd on all my computers. I hadn't thought about it until I recently noticed a lot of noise on one of my servers:

jan 18 10:09:49 curie ntpd[1069]: adjusting local clock by -1.604366s
jan 18 10:08:18 curie ntpd[1069]: adjusting local clock by -1.577608s
jan 18 10:05:02 curie ntpd[1069]: adjusting local clock by -1.574683s
jan 18 10:04:00 curie ntpd[1069]: adjusting local clock by -1.573240s
jan 18 10:02:26 curie ntpd[1069]: adjusting local clock by -1.569592s

You read that right, openntpd was constantly rewinding the clock, sometimes in less than two minutes. The above log was taken while doing diagnostics, looking at the last 30 minutes of logs. So, on average, one 1.5 seconds rewind per 6 minutes! That might be due to a dying real time clock (RTC) or some other hardware problem. I know for a fact that the CMOS battery on that computer (curie) died and I wasn't able to replace it (!). So that's partly garbage-in, garbage-out here. But still, I was curious to see how chrony would behave... (Spoiler: much better.) But I also had trouble on another workstation, that one a much more recent machine (angela). First, it seems OpenNTPd would just fail at boot time:

anarcat@angela:~(main)$ sudo systemctl status openntpd
  openntpd.service - OpenNTPd Network Time Protocol
     Loaded: loaded (/lib/systemd/system/openntpd.service; enabled; vendor pres>
     Active: inactive (dead) since Sun 2022-01-23 09:54:03 EST; 6h ago
       Docs: man:openntpd(8)
    Process: 3291 ExecStartPre=/usr/sbin/ntpd -n $DAEMON_OPTS (code=exited, sta>
    Process: 3294 ExecStart=/usr/sbin/ntpd $DAEMON_OPTS (code=exited, status=0/>
   Main PID: 3298 (code=exited, status=0/SUCCESS)
        CPU: 34ms
jan 23 09:54:03 angela systemd[1]: Starting OpenNTPd Network Time Protocol...
jan 23 09:54:03 angela ntpd[3291]: configuration OK
jan 23 09:54:03 angela ntpd[3297]: ntp engine ready
jan 23 09:54:03 angela ntpd[3297]: ntp: recvfrom: Permission denied
jan 23 09:54:03 angela ntpd[3294]: Terminating
jan 23 09:54:03 angela systemd[1]: Started OpenNTPd Network Time Protocol.
jan 23 09:54:03 angela systemd[1]: openntpd.service: Succeeded.

After a restart, somehow it worked, but it took a long time to sync the clock. At first, it would just not consider any peer at all:

anarcat@angela:~(main)$ sudo ntpctl -s all
0/20 peers valid, clock unsynced
peer
   wt tl st  next  poll          offset       delay      jitter
159.203.8.72 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  5  2    6s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
138.197.135.239 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  5  2    6s    7s             ---- peer not valid ----
216.197.156.83 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  1    2s    9s             ---- peer not valid ----
142.114.187.107 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  5  2    5s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
216.6.2.70 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  2    2s    8s             ---- peer not valid ----
207.34.49.172 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  2    0s    5s             ---- peer not valid ----
198.27.76.102 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  5  2    5s    5s             ---- peer not valid ----
158.69.254.196 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  3    1s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
149.56.121.16 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  2    5s    9s             ---- peer not valid ----
162.159.200.123 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  3    1s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
206.108.0.131 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  1    6s    9s             ---- peer not valid ----
205.206.70.40 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  5  2    8s    9s             ---- peer not valid ----
2001:678:8::123 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  2    5s    9s             ---- peer not valid ----
2606:4700:f1::1 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  3    2s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
2607:5300:205:200::1991 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  2    5s    9s             ---- peer not valid ----
2607:5300:201:3100::345c from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  4    1s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
209.115.181.110 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  5  2    5s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
205.206.70.42 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  2    0s    6s             ---- peer not valid ----
68.69.221.61 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  1    2s    9s             ---- peer not valid ----
162.159.200.1 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  4  3    4s    7s             ---- peer not valid ----

Then it would accept them, but still wouldn't sync the clock:

anarcat@angela:~(main)$ sudo ntpctl -s all
20/20 peers valid, clock unsynced
peer
   wt tl st  next  poll          offset       delay      jitter
159.203.8.72 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  8  2    5s    6s         0.672ms    13.507ms     0.442ms
138.197.135.239 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    4s    8s         1.260ms    13.388ms     0.494ms
216.197.156.83 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  1    3s    5s        -0.390ms    47.641ms     1.537ms
142.114.187.107 from pool 0.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    1s    6s        -0.573ms    15.012ms     1.845ms
216.6.2.70 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    3s    8s        -0.178ms    21.691ms     1.807ms
207.34.49.172 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    4s    8s        -5.742ms    70.040ms     1.656ms
198.27.76.102 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    0s    7s         0.170ms    21.035ms     1.914ms
158.69.254.196 from pool 1.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  3    5s    8s        -2.626ms    20.862ms     2.032ms
149.56.121.16 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    6s    8s         0.123ms    20.758ms     2.248ms
162.159.200.123 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  8  3    4s    5s         2.043ms    14.138ms     1.675ms
206.108.0.131 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  6  1    0s    7s        -0.027ms    14.189ms     2.206ms
205.206.70.40 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    1s    5s        -1.777ms    53.459ms     1.865ms
2001:678:8::123 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  6  2    1s    8s         0.195ms    14.572ms     2.624ms
2606:4700:f1::1 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  3    6s    9s         2.068ms    14.102ms     1.767ms
2607:5300:205:200::1991 from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  6  2    4s    9s         0.254ms    21.471ms     2.120ms
2607:5300:201:3100::345c from pool 2.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  4    5s    9s        -1.706ms    21.030ms     1.849ms
209.115.181.110 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    0s    7s         8.907ms    75.070ms     2.095ms
205.206.70.42 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  2    6s    9s        -1.729ms    53.823ms     2.193ms
68.69.221.61 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  1    1s    7s        -1.265ms    46.355ms     4.171ms
162.159.200.1 from pool 3.debian.pool.ntp.org
    1  7  3    4s    8s         1.732ms    35.792ms     2.228ms

It took a solid five minutes to sync the clock, even though the peers were considered valid within a few seconds:

jan 23 15:58:41 angela systemd[1]: Started OpenNTPd Network Time Protocol.
jan 23 15:58:58 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 142.114.187.107 now valid
jan 23 15:58:58 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 198.27.76.102 now valid
jan 23 15:58:58 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 207.34.49.172 now valid
jan 23 15:58:58 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 209.115.181.110 now valid
jan 23 15:58:59 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 159.203.8.72 now valid
jan 23 15:58:59 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 138.197.135.239 now valid
jan 23 15:58:59 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 162.159.200.123 now valid
jan 23 15:58:59 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 2607:5300:201:3100::345c now valid
jan 23 15:59:00 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 2606:4700:f1::1 now valid
jan 23 15:59:00 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 158.69.254.196 now valid
jan 23 15:59:01 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 216.6.2.70 now valid
jan 23 15:59:01 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 68.69.221.61 now valid
jan 23 15:59:01 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 205.206.70.40 now valid
jan 23 15:59:01 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 205.206.70.42 now valid
jan 23 15:59:02 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 162.159.200.1 now valid
jan 23 15:59:04 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 216.197.156.83 now valid
jan 23 15:59:05 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 206.108.0.131 now valid
jan 23 15:59:05 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 2001:678:8::123 now valid
jan 23 15:59:05 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 149.56.121.16 now valid
jan 23 15:59:07 angela ntpd[84086]: peer 2607:5300:205:200::1991 now valid
jan 23 16:03:47 angela ntpd[84086]: clock is now synced

That seems kind of odd. It was also frustrating to have very little information from ntpctl about the state of the daemon. I understand it's designed to be minimal, but it could inform me on his known offset, for example. It does tell me about the offset with the different peers, but not as clearly as one would expect. It's also unclear how it disciplines the RTC at all.

Compared to chrony Now compare with chrony:

jan 23 16:07:16 angela systemd[1]: Starting chrony, an NTP client/server...
jan 23 16:07:16 angela chronyd[87765]: chronyd version 4.0 starting (+CMDMON +NTP +REFCLOCK +RTC +PRIVDROP +SCFILTER +SIGND +ASYNCDNS +NTS +SECHASH +IPV6 -DEBUG)
jan 23 16:07:16 angela chronyd[87765]: Initial frequency 3.814 ppm
jan 23 16:07:16 angela chronyd[87765]: Using right/UTC timezone to obtain leap second data
jan 23 16:07:16 angela chronyd[87765]: Loaded seccomp filter
jan 23 16:07:16 angela systemd[1]: Started chrony, an NTP client/server.
jan 23 16:07:21 angela chronyd[87765]: Selected source 206.108.0.131 (2.debian.pool.ntp.org)
jan 23 16:07:21 angela chronyd[87765]: System clock TAI offset set to 37 seconds

First, you'll notice there's none of that "clock synced" nonsense, it picks a source, and then... it's just done. Because the clock on this computer is not drifting that much, and openntpd had (presumably) just sync'd it anyways. And indeed, if we look at detailed stats from the powerful chronyc client:

anarcat@angela:~(main)$ sudo chronyc tracking
Reference ID    : CE6C0083 (ntp1.torix.ca)
Stratum         : 2
Ref time (UTC)  : Sun Jan 23 21:07:21 2022
System time     : 0.000000311 seconds slow of NTP time
Last offset     : +0.000807989 seconds
RMS offset      : 0.000807989 seconds
Frequency       : 3.814 ppm fast
Residual freq   : -24.434 ppm
Skew            : 1000000.000 ppm
Root delay      : 0.013200894 seconds
Root dispersion : 65.357254028 seconds
Update interval : 1.4 seconds
Leap status     : Normal

We see that we are nanoseconds away from NTP time. That was ran very quickly after starting the server (literally in the same second as chrony picked a source), so stats are a bit weird (e.g. the Skew is huge). After a minute or two, it looks more reasonable:

Reference ID    : CE6C0083 (ntp1.torix.ca)
Stratum         : 2
Ref time (UTC)  : Sun Jan 23 21:09:32 2022
System time     : 0.000487002 seconds slow of NTP time
Last offset     : -0.000332960 seconds
RMS offset      : 0.000751204 seconds
Frequency       : 3.536 ppm fast
Residual freq   : +0.016 ppm
Skew            : 3.707 ppm
Root delay      : 0.013363549 seconds
Root dispersion : 0.000324015 seconds
Update interval : 65.0 seconds
Leap status     : Normal

Now it's learning how good or bad the RTC clock is ("Frequency"), and is smoothly adjusting the System time to follow the average offset (RMS offset, more or less). You'll also notice the Update interval has risen, and will keep expanding as chrony learns more about the internal clock, so it doesn't need to constantly poll the NTP servers to sync the clock. In the above, we're 487 micro seconds (less than a milisecond!) away from NTP time. (People interested in the explanation of every single one of those fields can read the excellent chronyc manpage. That thing made me want to nerd out on NTP again!) On the machine with the bad clock, chrony also did a 1.5 second adjustment, but just once, at startup:

jan 18 11:54:33 curie chronyd[2148399]: Selected source 206.108.0.133 (2.debian.pool.ntp.org) 
jan 18 11:54:33 curie chronyd[2148399]: System clock wrong by -1.606546 seconds 
jan 18 11:54:31 curie chronyd[2148399]: System clock was stepped by -1.606546 seconds 
jan 18 11:54:31 curie chronyd[2148399]: System clock TAI offset set to 37 seconds 

Then it would still struggle to keep the clock in sync, but not as badly as openntpd. Here's the offset a few minutes after that above startup:

System time     : 0.000375352 seconds slow of NTP time

And again a few seconds later:

System time     : 0.001793046 seconds slow of NTP time

I don't currently have access to that machine, and will update this post with the latest status, but so far I've had a very good experience with chrony on that machine, which is a testament to its resilience, and it also just works on my other machines as well.

Extras On top of "just working" (as demonstrated above), I feel that chrony's feature set is so much superior... Here's an excerpt of the extras in chrony, taken from the comparison table:

• source frequency tracking
• source state restore from file
• temperature compensation
• ready for next NTP era (year 2036)
• replace unreachable / falseticker servers
• aware of jitter
• RTC drift tracking
• RTC trimming
• Restore time from file w/o RTC
• leap seconds correction, in slew mode
• drops root privileges

I even understand some of that stuff. I think. So kudos to the chrony folks, I'm switching.

Caveats One thing to keep in mind in the above, however is that it's quite possible chrony does as bad of a job as openntpd on that old machine, and just doesn't tell me about it. For example, here's another log sample from another server (marcos):

jan 23 11:13:25 marcos ntpd[1976694]: adjusting clock frequency by 0.451035 to -16.420273ppm

I get those basically every day, which seems to show that it's at least trying to keep track of the hardware clock. In other words, it's quite possible I have no idea what I'm talking about and you definitely need to take this article with a grain of salt. I'm not an NTP expert. Update: I should also mentioned that I haven't evaluated systemd-timesyncd, for a few reasons:

1. I have enough things running under systemd
2. I wasn't aware of it when I started writing this
3. I couldn't find good documentation on it... later I found the above manpage and of course the Arch Wiki but that is very minimal
4. therefore I can't tell how it compares with chrony or (open)ntpd, so I don't see an enticing reason to switch

It has a few things going for it though:

• it's likely shipped with your distribution already
• it drops privileges (possibly like chrony, unclear if it also has seccomp filters)
• it's minimalist: it only does SNTP so not the server side
• the status command is good enough that you can tell the clock frequency, precision, and so on (especially when compared to openntpd's ntpctl)

So I'm reserving judgement over it, but I'd certainly note that I'm always a little weary in trusting systemd daemons with the network, and would prefer to keep that attack surface to a minimum. Diversity is a good thing, in general, so I'll keep chrony for now. It would certainly nice to see it added to chrony's comparison table.

Switching to chrony Because the default configuration in chrony (at least as shipped in Debian) is sane (good default peers, no open network by default), installing it is as simple as:

apt install chrony

And because it somehow conflicts with openntpd, that also takes care of removing that cruft as well.

Update: Debian defaults So it seems like I managed to write this entire blog post without putting it in relation with the original reason I had to think about this in the first place, which is odd and should be corrected. This conversation came about on an IRC channel that mentioned that the ntp package (and upstream) is in bad shape in Debian. In that discussion, chrony and ntpsec were discussed as possible replacements, but when we had the discussion on chat, I mentioned I was using openntpd, and promptly realized I was actually unhappy with it. A friend suggested chrony, I tried it, and it worked amazingly, I switched, wrote this blog post, end of story. Except today (2022-02-07, two weeks later), I actually read that thread and realized that something happened in Debian I wasn't actually aware of. In bookworm, systemd-timesyncd was not only shipped, but it was installed by default, as it was marked as a hard dependency of systemd. That was "fixed" in systemd-247.9-2 (see bug 986651), but only by making the dependency a Recommends and marking it as Priority: important. So in effect, systemd-timesyncd became the default NTP daemon in Debian in bookworm, which I find somewhat surprising. timesyncd has many things going for it (as mentioned above), but I do find it a bit annoying that systemd is replacing all those utilities in such a way. I also wonder what is going to happen on upgrades. This is all a little frustrating too because there is no good comparison between the other NTP daemons and timesyncd anywhere. The chrony comparison table doesn't mention it, and an audit by the Core Infrastructure Initiative from 2017 doesn't mention it either, even though timesyncd was announced in 2014. (Same with this blog post from Facebook.)

In my four most recent posts, I went over the memoirs and biographies, the non-fiction, the fiction and the 'classic' novels that I enjoyed reading the most in 2021. But in the very last of my 2021 roundup posts, I'll be going over some of my favourite movies. (Saying that, these are perhaps less of my 'favourite films' than the ones worth remarking on after all, nobody needs to hear that The Godfather is a good movie.) It's probably helpful to remark you that I took a self-directed course in film history in 2021, based around the first volume of Roger Ebert's The Great Movies. This collection of 100-odd movie essays aims to make a tour of the landmarks of the first century of cinema, and I watched all but a handul before the year was out. I am slowly making my way through volume two in 2022. This tome was tremendously useful, and not simply due to the background context that Ebert added to each film: it also brought me into contact with films I would have hardly come through some other means. Would I have ever discovered the sly comedy of Trouble in Paradise (1932) or the touching proto-realism of L'Atalante (1934) any other way? It also helped me to 'get around' to watching films I may have put off watching forever the influential Battleship Potemkin (1925), for instance, and the ur-epic Lawrence of Arabia (1962) spring to mind here. Choosing a 'worst' film is perhaps more difficult than choosing the best. There are first those that left me completely dry (Ready or Not, Written on the Wind, etc.), and those that were simply poorly executed. And there are those that failed to meet their own high opinions of themselves, such as the 'made for Reddit' Tenet (2020) or the inscrutable Vanilla Sky (2001) the latter being an almost perfect example of late-20th century cultural exhaustion. But I must save my most severe judgement for those films where I took a visceral dislike how their subjects were portrayed. The sexually problematic Sixteen Candles (1984) and the pseudo-Catholic vigilantism of The Boondock Saints (1999) both spring to mind here, the latter of which combines so many things I dislike into such a short running time I'd need an entire essay to adequately express how much I disliked it.

Dogtooth (2009) A father, a mother, a brother and two sisters live in a large and affluent house behind a very high wall and an always-locked gate. Only the father ever leaves the property, driving to the factory that he happens to own. Dogtooth goes far beyond any allusion to Josef Fritzl's cellar, though, as the children's education is a grotesque parody of home-schooling. Here, the parents deliberately teach their children the wrong meaning of words (e.g. a yellow flower is called a 'zombie'), all of which renders the outside world utterly meaningless and unreadable, and completely mystifying its very existence. It is this creepy strangeness within a 'regular' family unit in Dogtooth that is both socially and epistemically horrific, and I'll say nothing here of its sexual elements as well. Despite its cold, inscrutable and deadpan surreality, Dogtooth invites all manner of potential interpretations. Is this film about the artificiality of the nuclear family that the West insists is the benchmark of normality? Or is it, as I prefer to believe, something more visceral altogether: an allegory for the various forms of ontological violence wrought by fascism, as well a sobering nod towards some of fascism's inherent appeals? (Perhaps it is both. In 1972, French poststructuralists Gilles and F lix Guattari wrote Anti-Oedipus, which plays with the idea of the family unit as a metaphor for the authoritarian state.) The Greek-language Dogtooth, elegantly shot, thankfully provides no easy answers.

Holy Motors (2012) There is an infamous scene in Un Chien Andalou, the 1929 film collaboration between Luis Bu uel and famed artist Salvador Dal . A young woman is cornered in her own apartment by a threatening man, and she reaches for a tennis racquet in self-defence. But the man suddenly picks up two nearby ropes and drags into the frame two large grand pianos... each leaden with a dead donkey, a stone tablet, a pumpkin and a bewildered priest. This bizarre sketch serves as a better introduction to Leos Carax's Holy Motors than any elementary outline of its plot, which ostensibly follows 24 hours in the life of a man who must play a number of extremely diverse roles around Paris... all for no apparent reason. (And is he even a man?) Surrealism as an art movement gets a pretty bad wrap these days, and perhaps justifiably so. But Holy Motors and Un Chien Andalou serve as a good reminder that surrealism can be, well, 'good, actually'. And if not quite high art, Holy Motors at least demonstrates that surrealism can still unnerving and hilariously funny. Indeed, recalling the whimsy of the plot to a close friend, the tears of laughter came unbidden to my eyes once again. ("And then the limousines...!") Still, it is unclear how Holy Motors truly refreshes surrealism for the twenty-first century. Surrealism was, in part, a reaction to the mechanical and unfeeling brutality of World War I and ultimately sought to release the creative potential of the unconscious mind. Holy Motors cannot be responding to another continental conflagration, and so it appears to me to be some kind of commentary on the roles we exhibit in an era of 'post-postmodernity': a sketch on our age of performative authenticity, perhaps, or an idle doodle on the function and psychosocial function of work. Or perhaps not. After all, this film was produced in a time that offers the near-universal availability of mind-altering substances, and this certainly changes the context in which this film was both created. And, how can I put it, was intended to be watched.

Manchester by the Sea (2016) An absolutely devastating portrayal of a character who is unable to forgive himself and is hesitant to engage with anyone ever again. It features a near-ideal balance between portraying unrecoverable anguish and tender warmth, and is paradoxically grandiose in its subtle intimacy. The mechanics of life led me to watch this lying on a bed in a chain hotel by Heathrow Airport, and if this colourless circumstance blunted the film's emotional impact on me, I am probably thankful for it. Indeed, I find myself reduced in this review to fatuously recalling my favourite interactions instead of providing any real commentary. You could write a whole essay about one particular incident: its surfaces, subtexts and angles... all despite nothing of any substance ever being communicated. Truly stunning.

McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971) Roger Ebert called this movie one of the saddest films I have ever seen, filled with a yearning for love and home that will not ever come. But whilst it is difficult to disagree with his sentiment, Ebert's choice of sad is somehow not quite the right word. Indeed, I've long regretted that our dictionaries don't have more nuanced blends of tragedy and sadness; perhaps the Ancient Greeks can loan us some. Nevertheless, the plot of this film is of a gambler and a prostitute who become business partners in a new and remote mining town called Presbyterian Church. However, as their town and enterprise booms, it comes to the attention of a large mining corporation who want to bully or buy their way into the action. What makes this film stand out is not the plot itself, however, but its mood and tone the town and its inhabitants seem to be thrown together out of raw lumber, covered alternatively in mud or frozen ice, and their days (and their personalities) are both short and dark in equal measure. As a brief aside, if you haven't seen a Roger Altman film before, this has all the trappings of being a good introduction. As Ebert went on to observe: This is not the kind of movie where the characters are introduced. They are all already here. Furthermore, we can see some of Altman's trademark conversations that overlap, a superb handling of ensemble casts, and a quietly subversive view of the tyranny of 'genre'... and the latter in a time when the appetite for revisionist portrays of the West was not very strong. All of these 'Altmanian' trademarks can be ordered in much stronger measures in his later films: in particular, his comedy-drama Nashville (1975) has 24 main characters, and my jejune interpretation of Gosford Park (2001) is that it is purposefully designed to poke fun those who take a reductionist view of 'genre', or at least on the audience's expectations. (In this case, an Edwardian-era English murder mystery in the style of Agatha Christie, but where no real murder or detection really takes place.) On the other hand, McCabe & Mrs. Miller is actually a poor introduction to Altman. The story is told in a suitable deliberate and slow tempo, and the two stars of the film are shown thoroughly defrocked of any 'star status', in both the visual and moral dimensions. All of these traits are, however, this film's strength, adding up to a credible, fascinating and riveting portrayal of the old West.

Detour (1945) Detour was filmed in less than a week, and it's difficult to decide out of the actors and the screenplay which is its weakest point.... Yet it still somehow seemed to drag me in. The plot revolves around luckless Al who is hitchhiking to California. Al gets a lift from a man called Haskell who quickly falls down dead from a heart attack. Al quickly buries the body and takes Haskell's money, car and identification, believing that the police will believe Al murdered him. An unstable element is soon introduced in the guise of Vera, who, through a set of coincidences that stretches credulity, knows that this 'new' Haskell (ie. Al pretending to be him) is not who he seems. Vera then attaches herself to Al in order to blackmail him, and the world starts to spin out of his control. It must be understood that none of this is executed very well. Rather, what makes Detour so interesting to watch is that its 'errors' lend a distinctively creepy and unnatural hue to the film. Indeed, in the early twentieth century, Sigmund Freud used the word unheimlich to describe the experience of something that is not simply mysterious, but something creepy in a strangely familiar way. This is almost the perfect description of watching Detour its eerie nature means that we are not only frequently second-guessed about where the film is going, but are often uncertain whether we are watching the usual objective perspective offered by cinema. In particular, are all the ham-fisted segues, stilted dialogue and inscrutable character motivations actually a product of Al inventing a story for the viewer? Did he murder Haskell after all, despite the film 'showing' us that Haskell died of natural causes? In other words, are we watching what Al wants us to believe? Regardless of the answers to these questions, the film succeeds precisely because of its accidental or inadvertent choices, so it is an implicit reminder that seeking the director's original intention in any piece of art is a complete mirage. Detour is certainly not a good film, but it just might be a great one. (It is a short film too, and, out of copyright, it is available online for free.)

Safe (1995) Safe is a subtly disturbing film about an upper-middle-class housewife who begins to complain about vague symptoms of illness. Initially claiming that she doesn't feel right, Carol starts to have unexplained headaches, a dry cough and nosebleeds, and eventually begins to have trouble breathing. Carol's family doctor treats her concerns with little care, and suggests to her husband that she sees a psychiatrist. Yet Carol's episodes soon escalate. For example, as a 'homemaker' and with nothing else to occupy her, Carol's orders a new couch for a party. But when the store delivers the wrong one (although it is not altogether clear that they did), Carol has a near breakdown. Unsure where to turn, an 'allergist' tells Carol she has "Environmental Illness," and so Carol eventually checks herself into a new-age commune filled with alternative therapies. On the surface, Safe is thus a film about the increasing about of pesticides and chemicals in our lives, something that was clearly felt far more viscerally in the 1990s. But it is also a film about how lack of genuine healthcare for women must be seen as a critical factor in the rise of crank medicine. (Indeed, it made for something of an uncomfortable watch during the coronavirus lockdown.) More interestingly, however, Safe gently-yet-critically examines the psychosocial causes that may be aggravating Carol's illnesses, including her vacant marriage, her hollow friends and the 'empty calorie' stimulus of suburbia. None of this should be especially new to anyone: the gendered Victorian term 'hysterical' is often all but spoken throughout this film, and perhaps from the very invention of modern medicine, women's symptoms have often regularly minimised or outright dismissed. (Hilary Mantel's 2003 memoir, Giving Up the Ghost is especially harrowing on this.) As I opened this review, the film is subtle in its messaging. Just to take one example from many, the sound of the cars is always just a fraction too loud: there's a scene where a group is eating dinner with a road in the background, and the total effect can be seen as representing the toxic fumes of modernity invading our social lives and health. I won't spoiler the conclusion of this quietly devasting film, but don't expect a happy ending.

The Driver (1978) Critics grossly misunderstood The Driver when it was first released. They interpreted the cold and unemotional affect of the characters with the lack of developmental depth, instead of representing their dissociation from the society around them. This reading was encouraged by the fact that the principal actors aren't given real names and are instead known simply by their archetypes instead: 'The Driver', 'The Detective', 'The Player' and so on. This sort of quasi-Jungian erudition is common in many crime films today (Reservoir Dogs, Kill Bill, Layer Cake, Fight Club), so the critics' misconceptions were entirely reasonable in 1978. The plot of The Driver involves the eponymous Driver, a noted getaway driver for robberies in Los Angeles. His exceptional talent has far prevented him from being captured thus far, so the Detective attempts to catch the Driver by pardoning another gang if they help convict the Driver via a set-up robbery. To give himself an edge, however, The Driver seeks help from the femme fatale 'Player' in order to mislead the Detective. If this all sounds eerily familiar, you would not be far wrong. The film was essentially remade by Nicolas Winding Refn as Drive (2011) and in Edgar Wright's 2017 Baby Driver. Yet The Driver offers something that these neon-noir variants do not. In particular, the car chases around Los Angeles are some of the most captivating I've seen: they aren't thrilling in the sense of tyre squeals, explosions and flying boxes, but rather the vehicles come across like wild animals hunting one another. This feels especially so when the police are hunting The Driver, which feels less like a low-stakes game of cat and mouse than a pack of feral animals working together a gang who will tear apart their prey if they find him. In contrast to the undercar neon glow of the Fast & Furious franchise, the urban realism backdrop of the The Driver's LA metropolis contributes to a sincere feeling of artistic fidelity as well. To be sure, most of this is present in the truly-excellent Drive, where the chase scenes do really communicate a credible sense of stakes. But the substitution of The Driver's grit with Drive's soft neon tilts it slightly towards that common affliction of crime movies: style over substance. Nevertheless, I can highly recommend watching The Driver and Drive together, as it can tell you a lot about the disconnected socioeconomic practices of the 1980s compared to the 2010s. More than that, however, the pseudo-1980s synthwave soundtrack of Drive captures something crucial to analysing the world of today. In particular, these 'sounds from the past filtered through the present' bring to mind the increasing role of nostalgia for lost futures in the culture of today, where temporality and pop culture references are almost-exclusively citational and commemorational.

The Souvenir (2019) The ostensible outline of this quietly understated film follows a shy but ambitious film student who falls into an emotionally fraught relationship with a charismatic but untrustworthy older man. But that doesn't quite cover the plot at all, for not only is The Souvenir a film about a young artist who is inspired, derailed and ultimately strengthened by a toxic relationship, it is also partly a coming-of-age drama, a subtle portrait of class and, finally, a film about the making of a film. Still, one of the geniuses of this truly heartbreaking movie is that none of these many elements crowds out the other. It never, ever feels rushed. Indeed, there are many scenes where the camera simply 'sits there' and quietly observes what is going on. Other films might smother themselves through references to 18th-century oil paintings, but The Souvenir somehow evades this too. And there's a certain ring of credibility to the story as well, no doubt in part due to the fact it is based on director Joanna Hogg's own experiences at film school. A beautifully observed and multi-layered film; I'll be happy if the sequel is one-half as good.

The Wrestler (2008) Randy 'The Ram' Robinson is long past his prime, but he is still rarin' to go in the local pro-wrestling circuit. Yet after a brutal beating that seriously threatens his health, Randy hangs up his tights and pursues a serious relationship... and even tries to reconnect with his estranged daughter. But Randy can't resist the lure of the ring, and readies himself for a comeback. The stage is thus set for Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, which is essentially about what drives Randy back to the ring. To be sure, Randy derives much of his money from wrestling as well as his 'fitness', self-image, self-esteem and self-worth. Oh, it's no use insisting that wrestling is fake, for the sport is, needless to say, Randy's identity; it's not for nothing that this film is called The Wrestler. In a number of ways, The Sound of Metal (2019) is both a reaction to (and a quiet remake of) The Wrestler, if only because both movies utilise 'cool' professions to explore such questions of identity. But perhaps simply when The Wrestler was produced makes it the superior film. Indeed, the role of time feels very important for the Wrestler. In the first instance, time is clearly taking its toll on Randy's body, but I felt it more strongly in the sense this was very much a pre-2008 film, released on the cliff-edge of the global financial crisis, and the concomitant precarity of the 2010s. Indeed, it is curious to consider that you couldn't make The Wrestler today, although not because the relationship to work has changed in any fundamentalway. (Indeed, isn't it somewhat depressing the realise that, since the start of the pandemic and the 'work from home' trend to one side, we now require even more people to wreck their bodies and mental health to cover their bills?) No, what I mean to say here is that, post-2016, you cannot portray wrestling on-screen without, how can I put it, unwelcome connotations. All of which then reminds me of Minari's notorious red hat... But I digress. The Wrestler is a grittily stark darkly humorous look into the life of a desperate man and a sorrowful world, all through one tragic profession.

Thief (1981) Frank is an expert professional safecracker and specialises in high-profile diamond heists. He plans to use his ill-gotten gains to retire from crime and build a life for himself with a wife and kids, so he signs on with a top gangster for one last big score. This, of course, could be the plot to any number of heist movies, but Thief does something different. Similar to The Wrestler and The Driver (see above) and a number of other films that I watched this year, Thief seems to be saying about our relationship to work and family in modernity and postmodernity. Indeed, the 'heist film', we are told, is an understudied genre, but part of the pleasure of watching these films is said to arise from how they portray our desired relationship to work. In particular, Frank's desire to pull off that last big job feels less about the money it would bring him, but a displacement from (or proxy for) fulfilling some deep-down desire to have a family or indeed any relationship at all. Because in theory, of course, Frank could enter into a fulfilling long-term relationship right away, without stealing millions of dollars in diamonds... but that's kinda the entire point: Frank needing just one more theft is an excuse to not pursue a relationship and put it off indefinitely in favour of 'work'. (And being Federal crimes, it also means Frank cannot put down meaningful roots in a community.) All this is communicated extremely subtly in the justly-lauded lowkey diner scene, by far the best scene in the movie. The visual aesthetic of Thief is as if you set The Warriors (1979) in a similarly-filthy Chicago, with the Xenophon-inspired plot of The Warriors replaced with an almost deliberate lack of plot development... and the allure of The Warriors' fantastical criminal gangs (with their alluringly well-defined social identities) substituted by a bunch of amoral individuals with no solidarity beyond the immediate moment. A tale of our time, perhaps. I should warn you that the ending of Thief is famously weak, but this is a gritty, intelligent and strangely credible heist movie before you get there.

Uncut Gems (2019) The most exhausting film I've seen in years; the cinematic equivalent of four cups of double espresso, I didn't even bother even trying to sleep after downing Uncut Gems late one night. Directed by the two Safdie Brothers, it often felt like I was watching two films that had been made at the same time. (Or do I mean two films at 2X speed?) No, whatever clumsy metaphor you choose to adopt, the unavoidable effect of this film's finely-tuned chaos is an uncompromising and anxiety-inducing piece of cinema. The plot follows Howard as a man lost to his countless vices mostly gambling with a significant side hustle in adultery, but you get the distinct impression he would be happy with anything that will give him another high. A true junkie's junkie, you might say. You know right from the beginning it's going to end in some kind of disaster, the only question remaining is precisely how and what. Portrayed by an (almost unrecognisable) Adam Sandler, there's an uncanny sense of distance in the emotional chasm between 'Sandler-as-junkie' and 'Sandler-as-regular-star-of-goofy-comedies'. Yet instead of being distracting and reducing the film's affect, this possibly-deliberate intertextuality somehow adds to the masterfully-controlled mayhem. My heart races just at the memory. Oof.

Woman in the Dunes (1964) I ended up watching three films that feature sand this year: Denis Villeneuve's Dune (2021), Lawrence of Arabia (1962) and Woman in the Dunes. But it is this last 1964 film by Hiroshi Teshigahara that will stick in my mind in the years to come. Sure, there is none of the Medician intrigue of Dune or the Super Panavision-70 of Lawrence of Arabia (or its quasi-orientalist score, itself likely stolen from Anton Bruckner's 6th Symphony), but Woman in the Dunes doesn't have to assert its confidence so boldly, and it reveals the enormity of its plot slowly and deliberately instead. Woman in the Dunes never rushes to get to the film's central dilemma, and it uncovers its terror in little hints and insights, all whilst establishing the daily rhythm of life. Woman in the Dunes has something of the uncanny horror as Dogtooth (see above), as well as its broad range of potential interpretations. Both films permit a wide array of readings, without resorting to being deliberately obscurantist or being just plain random it is perhaps this reason why I enjoyed them so much. It is true that asking 'So what does the sand mean?' sounds tediously sophomoric shorn of any context, but it somehow applies to this thoughtfully self-contained piece of cinema.

A Quiet Place (2018) Although A Quiet Place was not actually one of the best films I saw this year, I'm including it here as it is certainly one of the better 'mainstream' Hollywood franchises I came across. Not only is the film very ably constructed and engages on a visceral level, I should point out that it is rare that I can empathise with the peril of conventional horror movies (and perhaps prefer to focus on its cultural and political aesthetics), but I did here. The conceit of this particular post-apocalyptic world is that a family is forced to live in almost complete silence while hiding from creatures that hunt by sound alone. Still, A Quiet Place engages on an intellectual level too, and this probably works in tandem with the pure 'horrorific' elements and make it stick into your mind. In particular, and to my mind at least, A Quiet Place a deeply American conservative film below the surface: it exalts the family structure and a certain kind of sacrifice for your family. (The music often had a passacaglia-like strain too, forming a tombeau for America.) Moreover, you survive in this dystopia by staying quiet that is to say, by staying stoic suggesting that in the wake of any conflict that might beset the world, the best thing to do is to keep quiet. Even communicating with your loved ones can be deadly to both of you, so not emote, acquiesce quietly to your fate, and don't, whatever you do, speak up. (Or join a union.) I could go on, but The Quiet Place is more than this. It's taut and brief, and despite cinema being an increasingly visual medium, it encourages its audience to develop a new relationship with sound.

A while ago I set out to get some teenagers interested in programming, and thought about a good way to achieve that. A way that allows them to get started with very little friction, build something that s relevant in their currently live quickly, and avoids frustration. They were old enough to have their own smartphone, and they were already happily chatting with their friends, using the Telegram messenger. I have already experimented a bit with writing bots for Telegram (e.g. @Umklappbot or @Kaleidogen), and it occurred to me that this might be a good starting point: Chat bot interactions have a very simple data model: message in, response out, all simple text. Much simpler than anything graphical or even web programming. In a way it combines the simplicity of the typical initial programming exercises on the command-line with the impact and relevance of web programming. But of course real bot programming is still too hard installing a programming environment, setting up a server, deploying, dealing with access tokens, understanding the Telegram Bot API and mapping it to your programming language.

The IDE

So I built a browser-based Python programming environments for Telegram bots that takes care of all of that. You simply write a single Python function, click the Deploy button, and the bot is live. That s it! This environment provides a much simpler API for the bots: Define a function like the following:

  def private_message(sender, text):
     return "Hello!"

This gets called upon a message, and if it returns a String, that s the response. That s it! Not enough to build any kind of Telegram bot, but sufficient for many fun applications.

A chatbot

In fact, my nephew and niece use this to build a simple interactive fiction game, where the player says where they are going ( house , forest , lake ) and thus explore the story, and in the end kill the dragon. And my girlfriend created a shopping list bot that we are using productively . If you are curious, you can follow the instructions to create your own bot. There you can also find the source code and instructions for hosting your own instance (on Amazon Web Services). Help with the project (e.g. improving the sandbox for running untrustworthy python code; making the front-end work better) is of course highly appreciated, too. The frontend is written in PureScript, and the backend in Python, building on Amazon lambda and Amazon DynamoDB.

I was recently called upon by Origyn to audit the source code of some of their Internet Computer canisters ( canisters are services or smart contracts on the Internet Computer), which were written in the Motoko programming language. Both the application model of the Internet Computer as well as Motoko bring with them their own particular pitfalls and possible sources for bugs. So given that I was involved in the creation of both, they reached out to me. In the course of that audit work I collected a list of things to watch out for, and general advice around them. Origyn generously allowed me to share that list here, in the hope that it will be helpful to the wider community.

Inter-canister calls The Internet Computer system provides inter-canister communication that follows the actor model: Inter-canister calls are implemented via two asynchronous messages, one to initiate the call, and one to return the response. Canisters process messages atomically (and roll back upon certain error conditions), but not complete calls. This makes programming with inter-canister calls error-prone. Possible common sources for bugs, vulnerabilities or simply unexpected behavior are:

• Reading global state before issuing an inter-canister call, and assuming it to still hold when the call comes back.
• Changing global state before issuing an inter-canister call, changing it again in the response handler, but assuming nothing else changes the state in between (reentrancy).
• Changing global state before issuing an inter-canister call, and not handling failures correctly, e.g. when the code handling the callback rolls backs.

If you find such pattern in your code, you should analyze if a malicious party can trigger them, and assess the severity that effect These issues apply to all canisters, and are not Motoko-specific.

Rollbacks Even in the absence of inter-canister calls the behavior of rollbacks can be surprising. In particular, rejecting (i.e. throw) does not rollback state changes done before, while trapping (e.g. Debug.trap, assert , out of cycle conditions) does. Therefore, one should check all public update call entry points for unwanted state changes or unwanted rollbacks. In particular, look for methods (or rather, messages, i.e. the code between commit points) where a state change is followed by a throw. This issues apply to all canisters, and are not Motoko-specific, although other CDKs may not turn exceptions into rejects (which don t roll back).

Talking to malicious canisters Talking to untrustworthy canisters can be risky, for the following (likely incomplete) reasons:

• The other canister can withhold a response. Although the bidirectional messaging paradigm of the Internet Computer was designed to guarantee a response eventually, the other party can busy-loop for as long as they are willing to pay for before responding. Worse, there are ways to deadlock a canister.
• The other canister can respond with invalidly encoded Candid. This will cause a Motoko-implemented canister to trap in the reply handler, with no easy way to recover. Other CDKs may give you better ways to handle invalid Candid, but even then you will have to worry about Candid cycle bombs that will cause your reply handler to trap.

Many canisters do not even do inter-canister calls, or only call other trustwothy canisters. For the others, the impact of this needs to be carefully assessed.

Canister upgrade: overview For most services it is crucial that canisters can be upgraded reliably. This can be broken down into the following aspects:

1. Can the canister be upgraded at all?
2. Will the canister upgrade retain all data?
3. Can the canister be upgraded promptly?
4. Is three a recovery plan for when upgrading is not possible?

Canister upgradeability A canister that traps, for whatever reason, in its canister_preupgrade system method is no longer upgradeable. This is a major risk. The canister_preupgrade method of a Motoko canister consists of the developer-written code in any system func preupgrade() block, followed by the system-generated code that serializes the content of any stable var into a binary format, and then copies that to stable memory. Since the Motoko-internal serialization code will first serialize into a scratch space in the main heap, and then copy that to stable memory, canisters with more than 2GB of live data will likely be unupgradeable. But this is unlikely the first limit: The system imposes an instruction limit on upgrading a canister (spanning both canister_preupgrade and canister_postupgrade). This limit is a subnet configuration value, and sepearate (and likely higher) than the normal per-message limit, and not easily determined. If the canister s live data becomes too large to be serialized within this limit, the canister becomes non-upgradeable. This risk cannot be eliminated completely, as long as Motoko and Stable Variables are used. It can be mitigated by appropriate load testing: Install a canister, fill it up with live data, and exercise the upgrade. If this succeeds with a live data set exceeding the expected amount of data by a margin, this risk is probably acceptable. Bonus points for adding functionality that will prevent the canister s live data to increase above a certain size. If this testing is to be done on a local replica, extra care needs to be taken to make sure the local replica actually performs instruction counting and has the same resource limits as the production subnet. An alternative mitigation is to avoid canister_pre_upgrade as much as possible. This means no use of stable var (or restricted to small, fixed-size configuration data). All other data could be

• mirrored off the canister (possibly off chain), and manually re-hydrated after an upgrade.
• stored in stable memory manually, during each update call, using the ExperimentalStableMemory API. While this matches what high-assurance Rust canisters (e.g. the Internet Identity) do, This requires manual binary encoding of the data, and is marked experimental, so I cannot recommend this at the moment.
• not put into a Motoko canister until Motoko has a scalable solution for stable variable (for example keeping them in stable memory permanently, with smart caching in main memory, and thus obliterating the need for pre-upgrade code.)

Data retention on upgrades Obviously, all live data ought to be retained during upgrades. Motoko automatically ensures this for stable var data. But often canisters want to work with their data in a different format (e.g. in objects that are not shared and thus cannot be put in stable vars, such as HashMap or Buffer objects), and thus may follow following idiom:

stable var fooStable =  ;
var foo = fooFromStable(fooStable);
system func preupgrade()   fooStable := fooToStable(foo);  )
system func postupgrade()   fooStable := (empty);  )

In this case, it is important to check that

• All non-stable global vars, or global lets with mutable values, have a stable companion.
• The assignments to foo and fooStable are not forgotten.
• The fooToStable and fooFromStable form bijections.

An example would be HashMaps stored as arrays via Iter.toArray( .entries()) and HashMap.fromIter( .vals()). It is worth pointiong out that a code view will only look at a single version of the code, but cannot check whether code changes will preserve data on upgrade. This can easily go wrong if the names and types of stable variables are changed in incompatible way. The upgrade may fail loudly in this cases, but in bad cases, the upgrade may even succeed, losing data along the way. This risk needs to be mitigated by thorough testing, and possibly backups (see below).

Prompt upgrades Motoko and Rust canisters cannot be safely upgraded when they are still waiting for responses to inter-canister calls (the callback would eventually reach the new instance, and because of infelicities of the IC s System API, could possibly call arbitrary internal functions). Therefore, the canister needs to be stopped before upgrading, and started again. If the inter-canister calls take a long time, this mean that upgrading may take a long time, which may be undesirable. Again, this risk is reduced if all calls are made to trustworthy canisters, and elevated when possibly untrustworthy canisters are called, directly or indirectly.

Backup and recovery Because of the above risk around upgrades it is advisable to have a disaster recovery strategy. This could involve off-chain backups of all relevant data, so that it is possible to reinstall (not upgrade) the canister and re-upload all data. Note that reinstall has the same issue as upgrade described above in prompt upgrades : It ought to be stopped first to be safe. Note that the instruction limit for messages, as well as the message size limit, limit the amount of data returned. If the canister needs to hold more data than that, the backup query method might have to return chunks or deltas, with all the extra complexity that entails, e.g. state changes between downloading chunks. If large data load testing is performed (as Irecommend anyways to test upgradeability), one can test whether the backup query method works within the resource limits.

Time is not strictly monotonic The timestamps for current time that the Internet Computer provides to its canisters is guaranteed to be monotonic, but not strictly monotonic. It can return the same values, even in the same messages, as long as they are processed in the same block. It should therefore not be used to detect happens-before relations. Instead of using and comparing time stamps to check whether Y has been performed after X happened last, introduce an explicit var y_done : Bool state, which is set to False by X and then to True by Y. When things become more complex, it will be easier to model that state via an enumeration with speaking tag names, and update this state machine along the way. Another solution to this problem is to introduce a var v : Nat counter that you bump in every update method, and after each await. Now v is your canister s state counter, and can be used like a timestamp in many ways. While we are talking about time: The system time (typically) changes across an await. So if you do let now = Time.now() and then await, the value in now may no longer be what you want.

Wrapping arithmetic The Nat64 data type, and the other fixed-width numeric types provide opt-in wrapping arithmetic (e.g. +%, fromIntWrap). Unless explicitly required by the current application, this should be avoided, as usually a too large or negatie value is a serious, unrecoverable logic error, and trapping is the best one can do.

Cycle balance drain attacks Because of the IC s canister pays model, all canisters are prone to DoS attacks by draining their cycle balance, and this risk needs to be taken into account. The most elementary mitigation strategy is to monitor the cycle balance of canisters and keep it far from the (configurable) freezing threshold. On the raw IC-level, further mitigation strategies are possible:

• If all update calls are authenticated, perform this authentication as quickly as possible, possibly before decoding the caller s argument. This way, a cycle drain attack by an unauthenticated attacker is less effective (but still possible).
• Additionally, implementing the canister_inspect_message system method allows the above checks to be performed before the message even is accepted by the Internet Computer. But it does not defend against inter-canister messages and is therefore not a complete solution.
• If an attack from an authenticated user (e.g. a stakeholder) is to be expected, the above methods are not effective, and an effective defense might require relatively involved additional program logic (e.g. per-caller statistics) to detect such an attack, and react (e.g. rate-limiting).
• Such defenses are pointless if there is only a single method where they do not apply (e.g. an unauthenticated user registration method). If the application is inherently attackable this way, it is not worth the bother to raise defenses for other methods.

Related: A justification why the Internet Identity does not use canister_inspect_message) A motoko-implemented canister currently cannot perform most of these defenses: Argument decoding happens unconditionally before any user code that may reject a message based on the caller, and canister_inspect_message is not supported. Furthermore, Candid decoding is not very cycle defensive, and one should assume that it is possible to construct Candid messages that require many instructions to decode, even for simple argument type signatures. The conclusion for the audited canisters is to rely on monitoring to keep the cycle blance up, even during an attack, if the expense can be born, and maybe pray for IC-level DoS protections to kick in.

Large data attacks Another DoS attack vector exists if public methods allow untrustworthy users to send data of unlimited size that is persisted in the canister memory. Because of the translation of async-await code into multiple message handlers, this applies not only to data that is obviously stored in global state, but also local data that is live across an await point. The effectiveness of such attacks is limited by the Internet Computer s message size limit, which is in the order of a few megabytes, but many of those also add up. The problem becomes much worse if a method has an argument type that allows a Candid space bomb: It is possible to encode very large vectors with all values null in Candid, so if any method has an argument of type [Null] or [?t], a small message will expand to a large value in the Motoko heap. Other types to watch out:

• Nat and Int: This is an unbounded natural number, and thus can be arbitrarily large. The Motoko representation will however not be much larger than the Candid encoding (so this does not qualify as a space bomb).

It is still advisable to check if the number is reasonable in size before storing it or doing an await. For example, when it denotes an index in an array, throw early if it exceeds the size of the array; if it denotes a token amount to transfer, check it against the available balance, if it denotes time, check it against reasonable bounds.

• Principal: A Principal is effectively a Blob. The Interface specification says that principals are at most 29 bytes in length, but the Motoko Candid decoder does not check that currently (fixed in the next version of Motoko). Until then, a Principal passed as an argument can be large (the principal in msg.caller is system-provided and thus safe). If you cannot wait for the fix to reach you, manually check the size of the princial (via Principal.toBlob) before doing the await.

Shadowing of msg or caller Don t use the same name for the message context of the enclosing actor and the methods of the canister: It is dangerous to write shared(msg) actor, because now msg is in scope across all public methods. As long as these also use public shared(msg) func , and thus shadow the outer msg, it is correct, but it if one accidentially omits or mis-types the msg, no compiler error would occur, but suddenly msg.caller would now be the original controller, likely defeating an important authorization step. Instead, write shared(init_msg) actor or shared( caller = controller ) actor to avoid using msg.

Conclusion If you write a serious canister, whether in Motoko or not, it is worth to go through the code and watch out for these patterns. Or better, have someone else review your code, as it may be hard to spot issues in your own code. Unfortunately, such a list is never complete, and there are surely more ways to screw up your code in addition to all the non-IC-specific ways in which code can be wrong. Still, things get done out there, so best of luck!

After moving my Ikiwiki blog to my own server and enabling a basic CSP policy, I decided to see if I could tighten up the policy some more and stop relying on style-src 'unsafe-inline'. This does require that OpenID logins be disabled, but as a bonus, it also removes the need for jQuery to be present on the server.

Revised CSP policy First of all, I visited all of my pages in a Chromium browser and took note of the missing hashes listed in the developer tools console (Firefox doesn't show the missing hashes):

• 'sha256-4Su6mBWzEIFnH4pAGMOuaeBrstwJN4Z3pq/s1Kn4/KQ='
• 'sha256-j0bVhc2Wj58RJgvcJPevapx5zlVLw6ns6eYzK/hcA04='
• 'sha256-j6Tt8qv7z2kSc7fUs0YHbrxawwsQcS05fVaX1r2qrbk='
• 'sha256-p4cncjf0hAIeTSS5tXecf7qTUanDC27KdlKhT9eOsZU='
• 'sha256-Y6v8OCtFfMmI5mbpwqCreLofmGZQfXYK7jJHCoHvn7A='
• 'sha256-47DEQpj8HBSa+/TImW+5JCeuQeRkm5NMpJWZG3hSuFU='

which took care of all of the inline styles. Note that I kept unsafe-inline in the directive since it will be automatically ignored by browsers who understand hashes, but will be honored and make the site work on older browsers. Next I added the new unsafe-hashes source expression along with the hash of the CSS fragment (clear: both) that is present on all pages related to comments in Ikiwiki:

$ echo -n "clear: both"   openssl dgst -sha256 -binary   openssl base64 -A
matwEc6givhWX0+jiSfM1+E5UMk8/UGLdl902bjFBmY=

My final style-src directive is therefore the following:

style-src 'self' 'unsafe-inline' 'unsafe-hashes' 'sha256-4Su6mBWzEIFnH4pAGMOuaeBrstwJN4Z3pq/s1Kn4/KQ=' 'sha256-j0bVhc2Wj58RJgvcJPevapx5zlVLw6ns6eYzK/hcA04=' 'sha256-j6Tt8qv7z2kSc7fUs0YHbrxawwsQcS05fVaX1r2qrbk=' 'sha256-p4cncjf0hAIeTSS5tXecf7qTUanDC27KdlKhT9eOsZU=' 'sha256-Y6v8OCtFfMmI5mbpwqCreLofmGZQfXYK7jJHCoHvn7A=' 'sha256-47DEQpj8HBSa+/TImW+5JCeuQeRkm5NMpJWZG3hSuFU=' 'sha256-matwEc6givhWX0+jiSfM1+E5UMk8/UGLdl902bjFBmY='

Browser compatibility While unsafe-hashes is not yet implemented in Firefox, it happens to work just fine due to a bug (i.e. unsafe-hashes is always enabled whether or not the policy contains it). It's possible that my new CSP policy won't work in Safari, but these CSS clears don't appear to be needed anyways and so it's just going to mean extra CSP reporting noise.

Removing jQuery Since jQuery appears to only be used to provide the authentication system selector UI, I decided to get rid of it. I couldn't find a way to get Ikiwiki to stop pulling it in and so I put the following hack in my Apache config file:

# Disable jQuery.
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/jquery.fileupload.js
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/jquery.fileupload-ui.js
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/jquery.iframe-transport.js
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/jquery.min.js
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/jquery.tmpl.min.js
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/jquery-ui.min.css
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/jquery-ui.min.js
Redirect 204 /ikiwiki/login-selector/login-selector.js

Replacing the files on disk with an empty reponse seems to work very well and removes a whole lot of code that would otherwise be allowed by the script-src directive of my CSP policy. While there is a slight cosmetic change to the login page, I think the reduction in the attack surface is well worth it.

The Python programming language is one of the most popular and in huge demand. It is free, has a large community, is intended for the development of projects of varying complexity, is easy to learn, and opens up great opportunities for programmers. To work comfortably with it, you need special Python tools, which are able to simplify your work. We have selected the best Python tools that will be relevant in 2021.

Popular Python Tools 2021Python tools make life much easier for any developer and provide ample opportunities for creating effective applications or sites. These solutions help to automate different processes and minimize routine tasks.In fact, their functionality varies considerably. Some are made for full-fledged complex multi-level development, while others have a simplified interface that allows you to develop individual modules and blocks. Before choosing a tool, you need to define objectives and understand goals. In this case, it will become clear what exactly to use.

MailtrapAs you may probably know, in order to send an email, you need SMTP (Simple Mail Transfer Protocol). This is because you can't just send a letter to the recipient. It needs to be sent to the server from which the recipient will download this letter using IMAP and POP3.Mailtrap provides an opportunity to send emails in python. Moreover, Mailtrap provides #rest #api to access current emails. It can be used to automate email testing, which will improve your email marketing campaigns. For example, you can check the password recovery form in the Selenium Test and immediately see if an email was sent to the correct address. Then take a new password from the email and try to enter the site with it. Cool, isn't it?

Pros

• All emails are in one place.
• Mailtrap provides multiple inboxes.
• Shared access is present.
• It is easy to set up.
• RESTful API

ConsNo visible disadvantages were found.

Django

Django is a free and open-source full-stack framework. It is one of the most important and popular among Python developers. It helps you move from a prototype to a ready-made working solution in a short time since its main task is to automate processes and speed up work through associations and libraries. It s a great choice for a product launch.You can use Django if at least a few of the following points interest you:

• There is a need to develop the server-side of the API.
• You need to develop a web application.
• In the course of work, many changes are made, you have to constantly deploy the application and make edits.
• There are many complex tasks that are difficult to solve on your own, and you will need the help of the community.
• ORM support is needed to avoid accessing the database directly.
• There is a need to integrate new technologies such as machine learning.

Django is a great Python Web Framework that does its job. It is not for nothing that it is one of the most popular, and is actively used by millions of developers.

ProsDjango has quite a few advantages. It contains a large number of ready-made solutions, which greatly simplifies development. Admin panel, database migration, various forms, user authentication tools are extremely helpful. The structure is very clear and simple.A large community helps to solve almost any problem. Thanks to ORM, there is a high level of security and it is comfortable to work with databases.

ConsDespite its powerful capabilities, Django's Python Web Framework has drawbacks. It is very massive, monolithic, therefore it develops slowly. Despite the many generic modules, the development speed of Django itself is reduced.

CherryPy

CherryPy is a micro-framework. It is designed to solve specific problems, capable of running the program on any operating system. CherryPy is used in the following cases:

• To create an application with small code size.
• There is a need to manage several servers at the same time.
• You need to monitor the performance of applications.

CherryPy refers to Python Frameworks, which are designed for specific tasks. It's clear, user-friendly, and ideal for Android development.

ProsCherryPy Python tool has a friendly and understandable development environment. This is a functional and complete framework, which can be used to build good applications. The source code is open, so the platform is completely free for developers, and the community, although not too large, is very responsive, and always helps to solve problems.

ConsThere are not so many cons to this Python tool. It is not capable of performing complex tasks and functions, it is intended more for specific solutions, for example, for the development of certain plugins or modules.

Pyramid

Python Pyramid tool is designed for programming complex objects and solving multifunctional problems. It is used by professional programmers and is traditionally used for identification and routing. It is aimed at a wide audience and is capable of developing API prototypes.It is used in the following cases:

• You need problem indicator tools to make timely adjustments and edits.
• You use several programming languages at once;
• You work with reporting and financial calculations, forecasting;
• You need to quickly create a simple application.

At the same time, the Python Web Framework Pyramid allows you to create complex applications with great functionality like a translation software.

ProsPyramid does an excellent job of developing basic applications quickly. It is quite flexible and easy to learn. In fact, the key to the success of this framework is that it is completely based on fundamental principles, using simple and basic programming techniques. It is minimalistic, but at the same time offers users a lot of freedom of action. It is able to work with both small applications and powerful multifunctional programs.

ConsIt is difficult to deviate from the basic principles. This Python tool makes the decision for you. Simple programs are very easy to implement. But to do something complex and large-scale, you have to completely immerse yourself in the study of the environment and obey it.

Grok

Grok is a Python tool that works with templates. Its main task is to eliminate repetitions in the code. If the element is repeated, then the template that was already created earlier is simply applied. This greatly simplifies and speeds up the work.Grok suits developers in the following cases:

• If a programmer has little experience and is not yet ready to develop his modules.
• There is a need to quickly develop a simple application.
• The functionality of the application is simple, straightforward, and the interface does not play a key role.

ProsThe Grok framework is a child of Zope3, which was released earlier. It has a simplified structure of work, easy installation of modules, more capabilities, and better flexibility. It is designed to develop small applications. Yes, it is not intended for complex work, but due to its functionality, it allows you to quickly implement a project.

ConsThe Grok community is not very large, as this Python tool has not gained widespread popularity. Nevertheless, it is used by Python adepts for comfortable development. It is impossible to implement complex tasks on it since the possibilities are quite limited.Grok is one of the best Python Web Frameworks. It is understandable and has enough features for comfortable development.

Web2Py

Web2Py is a Python tool that has its own IDEwhich, which includes a code editor, debugger, and deployment. It works great without the need for configuration or installation, provides a high level of data security, and is suitable for work on various platforms.Web2Py is great in the following cases:

• When there is a need to develop something on different operating systems.
• If there is no way to install and configure the framework.
• When a high level of data security is required, for example, when developing financial applications or sales performance management tools.
• If you need to carefully track bugs right during development, and not during the testing phase.

ProsWeb2Py is capable of working with different protocols, has a built-in error tracker, and has a backward compatibility feature that helps to work on the basis of previous versions of the framework. This means that code maintenance becomes much easier and cheaper. It's free, open-source, and very flexible.

ConsAmong the many Python tools, there are not many that require the latest version of the language. Web2Py is one of those and won't work on Python 3 and below. Therefore, you need to constantly monitor the updates.Web2Py does an excellent job of its tasks. It is quite simple and accessible to everyone.

BlueBream

BlueBream used to be called Zope3 before. It copes well with tasks of the medium and high level of complexity and is suitable for working on serious projects.

ProsThe BlueBream build system is quite powerful and suitable for complex tasks. You can create functional applications on it, and the principle of reuse of components makes the code easier. At the same time, the speed of development increases. The software can be scaled, and a transactional object database provides an easy path to store it. This means that queries are processed quickly and database management is simple.

ConsThis is not a very flexible framework, it is better to know clearly in advance what is required of it. In addition, it cannot withstand heavy loads. When working with 1000 users at the same time, it can crash and give errors. Therefore, it should be used to solve narrow problems.Python frameworks are often designed for specific tasks. BlueBream is one of these and is suitable for applications where database management plays a key role.

ConclusionPython tools come in different forms and have vastly different capabilities. There are quite a few of them, but in 2021 these will be the most popular and in demand. Experienced programmers always choose several development tools for their comfortable work.