I had a dream the other night, more of a nightmare really. I was in a cold and windy industrial setting, desperately trying to remove malware from the laptop of my company’s CEO. For some reason, he was dressed all in black, and wheezing like the three pack-a-day smoker that he isn’t. Just as I thought I had finally killed the errant process so I could start to disinfect his machine, he double-clicked an attachment in an email, cut my hand off with his letter opener, and said “Cas, I am your father!” I…
Who is your malware?
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