I have been dealing with reviews of a lot of really bad security lately.

I do not know how to put it in perspective any better than by analogy to (of course) poetry. Really, really bad poetry, as revealed bycracked.com in their recap of the 10 least romantic love song lyrics:

Jimmy Webb. “MacArthur Park”

“As we followed in the dance,
Between the parted pages and were pressed,
In love’s hot, fevered iron,
Like a striped pair of pants.”

There’s not much we can say here. Just read it over a couple of times. Yes, this song is the ACME of bad lyrics, but this particular passage is breathtaking. ‘Yes babe, you remind me of my wrinkly pants.’

Sometimes when I have to sit straight faced across from someone who glibly tells me how acceptable their security system is, right after I have punched into it like a hot tongue through rice paper, I remind myself how much bad poetry there is in the world.

“Yes, your security reminds me of my wrinkly pants”