When it comes to international relations, I’ve always preferred to sit on the sidelines and let experienced politicians like John Kerry and Hillary Clinton negotiate with everyone from Israeli military leaders to Venezuelan dictators.
No more.
This time I’m taking matters into my own hands and dealing directly with the Russians, specifically the crime ring that recently stole over 1 billion user name/password combinations and 500 million email addresses. This figure is even more alarming considering that, according to the International Telecommunications Union just under 3 billion of the world’s 7 billion population uses the Internet. Simple math says those naughty Russians now have one-third of my passwords. And if you’re reading this column online, guess what? They have one third of yours, too!
I’m going to assume one of the passwords in their possession is the one that unlocks my computer, so they are probably reading this column as I type it. Russian gangsters, I’m not going to grovel; I don’t even know how to type, “Pretty please?” in your language. Instead, let me explain that my passwords are useless to you and should therefore be returned. What could you possibly want with my Panera Bread password? I only signed up for the MyPanera rewards program so I’d receive a free muffin on my birthday. Surely there’s a bakery near your hacking headquarters. Please allow me to enter my Panera account in private and I’ll sleep better at night knowing my pastry data is safe and secure.
That wasn’t so hard, right? Now how about something else you don’t need? My Pandora password comes to mind. Yes, I frequently sign on to the streaming music service to create a mix of playlists and personal radio stations, but I’m partial to country western. If you hack into my account, you’re likely to hear Toby Keith’s “American Soldier” or Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the U.S.A.” Considering the current state of U.S.-Russian relations, that doesn’t sound like the type of music you want blaring from your speakers. Return it, please.
On that note, can you fork over my iTunes password? If you want access to my recent purchases, I’ll tell you now that they consist entirely of new Candy Crush levels. Seeing as you have your hands full sorting and analyzing one billion stolen passwords, I doubt you have time to waste playing Candy Crush.
My Netflix password is next and this is the closest I’ll get to begging. You see, I’m in the middle of binge watching House of Cards season two and I can’t bear the thought of logging on one evening to watch episodes 15, 16, 17 and 18 only to find the account has been tampered with. Have you ever tried to contact a Netflix customer service rep? I’ll miss all of season three before I get an answer. I’m a movie junkie and need my Netflix. Would it help if I told you that my all-time favorite movie is the James Bond classic, <em>From Russia With Love?</em>
Thanks to your criminal activity, I’ve been forced to cancel my credit cards and temporarily suspend my online brokerage account so those passwords will do you no good. That just leaves my social media accounts – Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter and Instagram. I’m not a huge Instagram user, preferring not to post selfies every hour. If that’s what you’re after, check my daughter’s account; I’m sure you’ve stolen her password, too. Facebook will only get you a bunch of dinner photos and puppy videos from people I’ve been meaning to unfriend for a while anyway. Help yourself to my LinkedIn contact list but be warned, you’ll probably start receiving emails from unemployed individuals inquiring about job prospects in Russia. And my only recognizable Twitter followers are Larry the Cable Guy and Taye Diggs the actor. For the record, Larry’s an old friend. I’m not sure why Taye finds me so interesting.
So you see, I have nothing to offer you. Delete my passwords from your treasure trove of stolen data and I will drop this matter.
You don’t want me to get Hillary Clinton involved.
