Feed on
Posts
Comments

I’ve recorded my enthusiasm for Lastpass here before. It’s a browser plugin that remembers all your passwords for you and stores them securely on the web. It can enter login credentials automatically and effectively provides you with a single sign-on across the web.

Of course, you need a password to secure all this. Lastpass provides a variety of ways to keep your encrypted password collection secure. One of them is a hardware device called a Yubikey, made by Yubico in Sweden.

In a nutshell, it’s a chip with a USB connector and a button and it functions as a keyboard and emits an identifier and  a unique password whenever the button is touched for a second or so.

In principle it means that even if you use a PC with malicious software installed on it your login details can’t be compromised. The passwords it issues are one-time passwords and are not reused.

If the site you log into supports two-factor authentication (something you have and something you know, i.e., a key and a password) then possession of the key alone will not provide access.

The lastpass screencast here shows it nicely (click on How to use LastPass with a YubiKey) and answers the inevitable question

But what if I lose it?

What finally pushed me to try out this was Fastmail’s decision to support it (announced here) — on their beta server for now.

So, I looked to order one and I ended up taking advantage of a special offer which expires this month: two Yubikeys and a Lastpass account for $40. At that price the keys are $14 each, which for serious security is a bargain.

The keys arrived the following day by registered mail — they clearly didn’t come from Sweden.

It works beautifully and is strangely satisfying to use.

The only problem I had was that two-factor authentication didn’t work with Fastmail if a single-factor Yubkikey login was  also configured among the alternative logins.

You can tell Lastpass that your home computer is secure and that you don’t need to use the Yubikey with it, and when traveling you can fetch it out of your wallet and use it on other systems with some peace of mind.

Unless someone gains access to the key, and your lastpass password, or your lastpass password and your email account, your passwords are secure.

I think I might have preferred a key in the form of a USB stick with a retractable connector, like the Cruzer USB memory sticks, and a hidden purpose. But that’s a minor quibble. (I can’t put it on my keyring because I have a memory stick there already and one would have to come off to enable both to be used simultaneously).

How much do I like it? Enough that I would change banks for it. It’s a lot better than entering selected letters from my memorable word + decoy characters (or vice versa) when logging in to my account.

It might be the gadget of the year. It’ll surely be a contender in the bang for the buck department. But the special offer ends this month.

Update: it will not work with the new iPad — it has no USB port!

Tweet Of The Day

I have an RSS feed monitoring Twitter for the word Marylebone (where we live). Just saw this, addressed to a local supermarket

Attention Waitrose Marylebone – if you don’t have any haggis when I get there, I’ll force you all to read Burns all night. With no whisky.

Yesterday we attended a memorial party for my sister in law who died a few months ago.

She liked a party and was one of the most wonderfully hospitable people I’ve ever known, and a truly formidable cook. She had wanted to have a last party before she died, but as it turned out it was held on time, after her funeral. Those who could it to the funeral (in France) brought food and drink and, by all accounts, a memorable party was held under the auspices of a double rainbow.

Yesterday was a reprise and chance for those in London and beyond (Brussels, Geneva and further afield; Seattle even) to get together and eat and drink, listen to some beautiful live music (harp and flute) and tell stories and remember with affection. It was wonderful.

My brother in law began with a brief story I hadn’t heard and which amused us all.

Shortly before she died, his other half of 44 years lost the power to speak. Knowing that she had something important to tell him and the children, they brought an alphabet and watched as she spelled out a message. He wondered, he said, what family secret would be revealed. The message was

Knives, forks, spoons

By which he understood, correctly, that there weren’t enough and that some would have to be borrowed.

This indomitable attention such details to the last moments of her life was wonderfully endearing, and of course, no surprise. The stories only got better. It was one of those rare days of companionship to be remembered forever.

Bill McLaren RIP

Bill McLaren is dead.

The voice of rugby, gone at 86. I grew up listening to his commentaries on five nations matches. He was such a fixture — a career of 50 years — I never even realised that I took him for granted. I liked his famous Hawick accent and his cadences and his wry understatement when things went awry, and I’m sorry to think I’ll never hear him again.

I doubt there’ll be a newspaper in any country in the world where rugby is played that doesn’t give him a warm tribute. Here’s The Telegraph.

My favourite from this collection of his famous sayings, reported in The Times

My goodness, that ball’s gone so high there’ll be snow on it when it comes down

Listening to him was as enjoyable as the game. His enthusiasm and fairness were a pleasure in themselves.  A gent, through and through.

The prospect of Kraft Corporation taking over Cadbury’s has roused some protectionist ire in the land of humbugs, jelly babies, gobstoppers etc.,

This Guardian story, Get Your Hands Off Our Sweets!,  revived a 25 year old argument here. Listen to this, I said, and read the following to Sweet nr 1

Sweets executives tend to leave the best-known brands alone, because when they do tinker with them there can be uproar – witness the dismay which greeted the replacing of ­Marathon bar with its US name, Snickers…

I reminded her of our disagreement, when living in America almost 25 years ago, on whether Snickers were sold in the UK.

Snickers, aka Marathon bar

What was wagered I can’t recall now, but I did take the precaution of bringing  back a box with a dozen bars or so when we returned for Christmas one year. I intended to plant these in the local village shop, with the connivance of the shop keeper, and then innocently add Snickers to the next shopping list.

My perfidy was rumbled in circumstances I’ve also forgotten, but we all had a good laugh, which was the point (it wasn’t really a serious wager).

Nevertheless, clearly, Snickers were sold in the UK so I was right all along.

Or was I?

A review of the Wikipedia page for Snickers says not. I was several years too early.

The brand name collision with Snickers Workwear, founded in 1975, is a little surprising — not that people are really likely to confuse chocolate and clothing, but you know how American companies love those cease and desist letters.

Of course, you may object to Kraft and Cadburys calling their confections chocolate in the first place, but the EU bailed on that one long ago.

Lindt is our preferred chocolate, but the argument on the ideal temperature for consumption continues. The chocaholic goes for warm; I like it cool, from the fridge.

Older Posts »