<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Morris-Worm on Karpoke - Just Another Blog</title><link>http://karpoke.ignaciocano.com/tags/morris-worm/</link><description>Recent content in Morris-Worm on Karpoke - Just Another Blog</description><generator>Hugo -- 0.167.0</generator><language>es</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 13 Jun 2015 11:30:00 +0100</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="http://karpoke.ignaciocano.com/tags/morris-worm/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>A flaw in the design (Part I)</title><link>http://karpoke.ignaciocano.com/2015/06/13/a-flaw-in-the-design-part-i/</link><pubDate>Sat, 13 Jun 2015 11:30:00 +0100</pubDate><guid>http://karpoke.ignaciocano.com/2015/06/13/a-flaw-in-the-design-part-i/</guid><description>&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;p&gt;David D. Clark, an MIT scientist whose air of genial wisdom earned him
the nickname “Albus Dumbledore,” can remember exactly when he grasped
the Internet’s dark side. He was presiding over a meeting of network
engineers when news broke that a dangerous computer worm — the first
to spread widely — was slithering across the wires. One of the
engineers, working for a leading computer company, piped up with a
claim of responsibility for the security flaw that the worm was
exploiting. “Damn,” he said. “I thought I had fixed that bug.” But as
the attack raged in November 1988, crashing thousands of machines and
causing millions of dollars in damage, it became clear that the
failure went beyond a single man. The worm was using the Internet’s
essential nature — fast, open and frictionless — to deliver malicious
code along computer lines designed to carry harmless files or e-mails.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;/blockquote&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>