Security Or You're Still Wrong... Blog post by Mykel Board

   

You’re STILL Wrong

or

Mykel's August 2025 Blog/Column

SECURITY

by Mykel Board    

“The more data we give, the more they take. And the less control we have.”

- Timsux Wales

“Passwords are like underwear: don’t let people see it, change it very often, and you shouldn’t share it with strangers.”
            – Chris Pirillo

“Security used to be an inconvenience sometimes, but now it’s a necessity all the time.” 

– Martina Navratilova

“The only way to maintain privacy on the internet is to not be on the internet.” 

– Abhijit Naskar

=================================

“Oh Jordan,” I breathe. “I never dreamed I’d be with you like this.”

“Mykel! Mykel! Mykel!,” Jordan breathes back. 

I press my body against Jordan’s, squeezing hard trying to feel through the double layer of clothing between us. It’s my first time in the student’s new apartment… a dorm-room actually. Part of NYU. Jordan says it’s the safest most secure student housing in the world. “Mom made sure of it.”

I reach under the twenty something’s t-shirt, feeling the skin on the spine. I bring my hand to the front… looking for a nipple to caress. I feel blood rush between my legs. 

My phone vibrates on the night-table next to the bed. 

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll ignore it.”  

“No! You can’t.” comes the answer. “You need the internet code or you can’t go any further. You want to go further, don’t you?”

“Password?” I ask. “I need a password to touch your nipple?”

“It’s the newest technology,’  comes the reply, “It protects me against harassment… you know, unwanted touching. Please!! Get the code, now!”

I turn on my shoulder... grab the phone… swipe away the home screen… click on the messages speech balloon… There is a box with a small check-box. Next to the check-box it says I am not a robot. I click the small box. And it connects to my own SMS messages. 

Top message: CVS, your prescription for TAM is ready. Just bring this message and when you’re ready click… 

Fuck… the next one… from protectyourbody.com:

Your code is 48521234. Check your email for a message from
ProtectYourBody.com. Click on the email and enter your code.

It takes a lot of self control to keep the phone in my hand instead of sending it through the window. I click on the multi-colored M from gmail. And the first email is from the evil guys. 

Please insert your code in the space below. It says. 

“I’d like to insert my fist up your virtual ass,” I think... loud enough to be heard on the next block.

Fuck! I forgot the number already, and go back to the text message to retrieve it… then I plug it in the email… the phone buzzes again… I check. A larger box shows up. In that larger box is a picture of a naked Margaret Thatcher, Joan Baez and Beyonce lying next to each other on a large bed. Their legs are spread. 

Click on all the squares that show a clitoris, says the caption. 

Using my thumbs, I stretch the picture until I can examine carefully. There’s one… another… and… it’s harder to see on Beyonce, but I manage to discover that bull-tongue clit... spanning two frames. Click. Click. I then press ENTER.

The message now says: You may proceed.

Back to the business at hand. First I press myself against Jordan hoping body to body will stimulate me again. And now I run my hand under that t-shirt… across the chest… Yes! A nipple!! And then another one. Their pinkness tingles my fingers. I can feel the tiny points harden under my fingers… and I can feel Me harden where it’s important. 

I press my lips against Jordan’s. Feeling the other’s tongue slither into my mouth, I suck it in. I peel off my own clothes and press my now-naked body against Jordan’s. Then I reach between us to help the t-shirt nudify that body… and I help the rest of the clothes free the rest of the body lying next to me. We press our nakedness together. 

I run my tongue downwards: breasts, stomach, lingering for a taste of belly button, then go south, pubes, then… PLOW! My head is stuck... Jordan’s thighs pinching it tight, like a wrestling hold. 

“Help!” I shout, muted by pubic hair. “I can’t move. I feel like my head is in a vice. The pain!”

“It’s not me,” answers Jordan. “Mom subscribed me to Legclamp-dot-com. They force my knees together until I call to release them. I have to get to their website and put in a release code in order to let you go.”

“Please do it quick!” I try to shout back. “My head is going to explode.” 

“Roll on to your stomach,” says Jordan, legs twisting my head forcing our entire bodies toward the cellphone. 

I jerk my shoulders, trying to get my body to follow… another jerk… finally with the help of Jordan’s turn toward the table, I manage to be completely face down... a thigh still pressing on either side of my head. 

I guess Jordan reached the phone. I hear half the conversation. It is not encouraging. 

“I don’t remember the fucking password!” Jordan shouts into the phone. “I’m in pain, and my bedfriend is in worse pain.” 

“You tell ‘em!” I try to say, my words lost between her legs... fading into the mattress. 

“Goldstein,” I hear Jordan say… probably in answer to a mother’s maiden name question from the other side of the phone. Then she says "Fifi." I’m guessing childhood pet. 

“You’re kidding!” comes Jordan’s voice. “Okay, okay… Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

PAROONG! The pressure eases on each side of my head. I can remove my head from between Jordan’s legs. I roll onto my back and in relief, Jordan turns to me and licks my ear. I smile. 

My bedmate’s hand rubs my chest and goes south. Lightly cupping the good parts, that hand moves up and down bringing blood into that key vessel. My limpy slowly hardens. Jordan’s lips follow the path laid out by the hand.  A joyful hardness between my legs replaces the awful pain in my head.

Jordan turns face down. I roll face down onto the nakedness now underneath me. My face nestles again a right buttocks. I move over… stick my nose between right and left lower cheeks. Working the saliva in my throat into my mouth, I use my tongue to lubricate the little hole. The sphincter tightens around my tongue. I spin around like a helicopter propeller, and nestle new hardness where my tongue has been. 

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! SECURITY VIOLATION!  ATTEMPTED SPHINCTER VIOLATION! CAMPUS POLICE INFORMED. 

The announcement… loud enough to wake the neighbors… blasting from speakers hidden who-knows-where. It doesn’t stop!

AUTHORITIES INFORMED. CAVITY SEALED! 

A siren sounds… UUUUWAAAH! UUUUWAAAH! UUUUWAAAH!

“Mykel,” says Jordan. “You’ve got to get out of here… fast… Campus security will be here in three minutes. Who knows where you’ll end up?”

I don’t ask questions. Pow! I dress like there’s no tomorrow. If I don’t hurry, maybe there will be no tomorrow. Blam! I’m out of the room… Fearing a booby-trapped elevator, I take the stairs down and exit through the back of the building… into a courtyard filled with rubber trash cans… There’s a low cyclone fence that I can easily climb over. Wow! Safe. 

Is Jordan safe? I guess it depends on how you look at it. The sophomore is safe from my hard flesh for the night. But is the sophomore safe from security? Is anyone? 

I make it back to my apartment, the stiffness in my pants just starting to loosen. I pull it out of my pants as I pull the laptop onto the bed. I lay down and tune into XNXX. Then comes the loud banging on my door… then the break-in. 

See you in hell, 

MB

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at mykelboard@gmail.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available.  Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE TO THE BLOG in the subject line.  Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com]

Explanation dept: The adventure described in this post is obviously a figment of my imagination… but is it really that far from reality? Security is the greatest danger that humanity now faces. Soldiers call their killing-jobs security.  Your bank account gets locked because of a mis-typed password… and that’s security. Your call may be monitored or recorded. Why? For YOUR security. I’d like to walk into Times Square and piss on Sponge Bob while shouting? “You want security? Shit… well piss… happens. Security is the opposite of freedom! Arrest me and my dick… see how far that gets you!”

Even the government dept: Wired Magazine reports: A string of previously undisclosed break-ins at Tennessee National Guard armories last fall marks the latest in a growing series of security breaches at military facilities across the United States, raising fresh concerns about the vulnerability of US armories to theft and intrusion.

A confidential memo from the Tennessee Fusion Center reviewed by WIRED details four break-ins at Tennessee National Guard armories over a seven-week span. In one incident, thieves made off with night vision goggles, laser target locators, and thermal weapons sights, among other equipment. In other incidents, intruders breached fences, tripped alarms, and gained access to supply rooms discovered in the aftermath to have been unlocked.

Victoria’s Not-So Secret:  Sexy Fashion retail chain Victoria's Secret has delayed its first quarter 2025 earnings release because of ongoing corporate system restoration efforts following a security problem. In response to a late May incident, the company took down corporate systems, some in-store services, and the e-commerce website as a precaution.

Get it? No matter how much security you have, someone else can outsmart it. More security means more out-smarters and worse than that, it means less freedom for the rest of us. I have a friend with no cellphone, no laptop, no TikTok page. In fact, the only pages he has are made of paper and connected to a binding. He never gets hacked. 

AFRICAN LINKS:

Albert aka Alberto Melody is the reason I went to Kenya. We met on facebook a couple years ago. He has a blog you should take a look at: Albertomelody.blogspot.com. Tell him Mykel sent ya.

NON-AFRICANS

Sid Yiddish sent me this link to all his videos. It’s a great place to start, especially if you don’t know him.

I did a nice interview with The Aither zine. Interesting questions, complete, and questions I’ve never been asked before. You can read it here. It’s a good one.

Here’s Ricardo Wang with a “micro-label” in Seattle “specializing in 8-track tapes and CDs. WOW! Check out one of their label staples: The Dead Air Fresheners, best band name of the year.

Also on bandcamp: My very long time faves in NYC, the BLACKOUT SHOPPERS. Featuring pals Seth and possibly the next vice-president of the US

Sid Yiddish has posted a video of a show done for WZRD in Chicago. Great live performances, and if you catch the video around the 20+ minute point you might see a familiar face doing the lyrics to his songs (some unrecorded) as poetry. You’ll find it here.

And this sounds right up Sid’s alley. The Bilderberg Jazz Arkestra on Bandcamp!

Eric Grayson has an online music review zine, Sobriquet. Full pictures of the sleeves too! Something missing from too many zines. Sometimes you CAN judge a… er… book… by its cover.

Steen Thomsen is a Dane I’ve known ever since Lincoln was shot. I put his band THE ZERO POINT on the great WORLD CLASS PUNK Cassette for ROIR. It must be worth a mint now. I don’t have any left, I’m afraid. You can (and should) connect to the Zero Point on facebook. Tell ‘em Mykel’s blog sent you.

Sorry Dorothy, we are STILL in Kansas. And it’s as weird as OZ. Check out Bob Cutler’s DISTOPEKA.

You already know Murder & Mayhem zine… those guys who did the Mykel Board centerfold. (No genitals shown… and probably for the better.) Their online version is here.

The Clean Boys from Denmark are also longtime friends of mine. In Denmark we recorded as The Bend-over Boys. Only one 10-inch available… but at least now I can say I have a 10-incher!

Finally, for this month, Margaret O’Brien asked me to include the site: anti-war.com They seem to be folks after my own heart.

Oh yeah, then there’s me. I have a blog of stuff I’ve written mostly from last century. You might enjoy it. Then again, you might not. It’s here.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. god@mykelboard.com