[UPDATE April 9, 2017] No response from Google, so I will provide a general description of what happened and close this incident in my book.
Someone was able to post a fake job opening for my company on two of the major job sites. Unclear to what end. I realized what was happening when I began receiving hundreds of job applications. I saw the posting — it was very well, professionally written. I reached out to both job sites. One responded immediately, took the posting down, and helped mitigate the impact. The other gave me a canned response two days later, saying they are investigating.
For this posting to have happened someone must have gained control of my company’s general email account. I suspect that this may have happened via a feature in Gmail, which is why I reached out to Google.
Case closed as unresolved.
I was phished, successfully, even though I thought I was impervious to such things. In my defense I will say that I didn’t do anything wrong (I think), and I followed all the rules (I think). It appears that my attackers’ deed was facilitated (unintentionally and unknowingly, I’m sure) by Google.
I have alerted Google to the incident. I will post further details if and when Google assures me that it is safe to do so.
I remember my father telling this joke in the late 1970s. It is currently on Wikipedia (not my contribution).
A hotel. A room for four with four strangers. Three of them soon open a bottle of vodka and proceed to get acquainted, then drunk, then noisy, singing, and telling political jokes. The fourth man desperately tries to get some sleep; finally, in frustration he surreptitiously leaves the room, goes downstairs, and asks the lady concierge to bring tea to Room 67 in ten minutes. Then he returns and joins the party. Five minutes later, he bends to a power outlet: “Comrade Major, some tea to Room 67, please.” In a few minutes, there’s a knock at the door, and in comes the lady concierge with a tea tray. The room falls silent; the party dies a sudden death, and the prankster finally gets to sleep. The next morning he wakes up alone in the room. Surprised, he runs downstairs and asks the concierge what happened to his companions. “You don’t need to know!” she answers. “B-but… but what about me?” asks the terrified fellow. “Oh, you… well… Comrade Major liked your tea gag a lot.”
Source: Wikipedia, also my memory from 30-40 years ago, from another land, from another system.
- Don’t think.
- If you think, then don’t speak.
- If you think and speak, then don’t write.
- If you think, speak and write, then don’t sign.
- If you think, speak, write and sign, then don’t be surprised.
Q: Hey, how was growing up in Bulgaria in the ‘70s and ‘80s? Was totalitarianism good?
A: It was survivable.
Q: But did some people think it was actually good?
A: Yes. A few honest, simple-minded people thought it was great. They didn’t know what “totalitarian” meant or was. They just liked the simplicity of everything.
Q: I thought totalitarianism enjoyed wide popular support.
A: Many more people pretended to believe it was good; this was a common survival strategy, and a career booster for many.
Q: But once the wheels fell off, everything collapsed pretty quickly, right?
A: Like a house of cards.
Q: Were the “believers” first to abandon ship?
A: Aren’t they always?
Q: But this was in another place, another time, right? Nothing like that is happening now anywhere, right? Right???
A: Of course. Everything is great.
Q: Will there be another installment of “Ask a totalitarian survivor”?
A: Stay tuned.
But I can’t do nothing. Which is why I am starting yet another blog.
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. —Edmund Burke