Thursday, September 14, 2017
We're all vulnerable now, aren't we?
You've probably read about/seen some TV about the enormous hack of financial information at Equifax (of which most of us had never heard ... till now). Some 143,000,000 Americans
I'm assuming I'm one of them. (I've read that the process of checking if you are is a bit ... iffy right now.) Better to assume than ignore.
I just checked on a .gov site and saw how I can file for a 90-day fraud alert (vendors, etc. will check for certainty for the ID of anyone attempting to use one of my accounts).
I just filled out a bit of a form on Equifax's site, clicked "submit"--and quickly got an error message.
I'm guessing it's because 142,999,999 other people have been filing temporary fraud alerts. And the system is a bit ... overwhelmed.
It's stunning, isn't it? There are people out there--lots of them, all over the world--who are dedicated to stealing your information and money--or to conning you out of it. (My poor mother, a half-dozen years ago or so, fell for the equivalent of a Nigerian-prince Internet scam and lost thousands before my brothers and I caught onto it).
I happened to be in my mom's apartment when the guy called to ask for more money. I took the phone, told him never to call this number again. I sounded really threatening.
Slammed down the phone.
He called back a half-hour later. So much for my ... dire ... warning, for my minatory manner.
Our Internet world--so alluring, so seductive, so helpful in so many ways--is in fact a tangled jungle, beautiful to look at (and consider) but full of predacious creatures bent on destroying us.
And those predacious creatures walk on two legs. Have language. Have mothers. (Have somehow misplaced their hearts.) Can smile and laugh. All the way to bank.