Browsers are a really nice target for attackers of all stripes and skill levels. But, unless you're a savant or have just landed here from the future, you may want to take a pass on going after Google Chrome, judging by the insane level of effort and skill that an anonymous security researcher had to deploy in order to compromise Chrome during the company's Pwnium contest in March.
The researcher who received one of two $60,000 rewards handed out by Google for full sandbox escapes and compromises of Chrome during the contest used the alias Pinkie Pie. At the time that his accomplishment was announced during the CanSecWest conference in March, Google officials did not specify exactly how the researcher had been able to break Chrome's many layers of security, but just said that he had used multiple bugs to do it.
Now, Google security researchers have revealed the method and techniques that Pinkie Pie used, and if anything, the whole story is even more impressive than observers had thought at the time of the contest. Pinkie Pie used a total of six vulnerabilities in various components of Chrome, chaining them together in a long sequence that eventually enabled him to break out of the Chrome sandbox and completely compromise the browser.
The first part of this long process was exploiting a bug in the way that Chrome uses pre-rendering to handle Native Client content on Web pages.
"Prerendering is a performance optimization that lets a site provide hints for Chrome to fetch and render a page before the user navigates to it, making page loads seem instantaneous. To avoid sound and other nuisances from preloaded pages, the prerenderer blocks plug-ins from running until the user chooses to navigate to the page. Pinkie discovered that navigating to a pre-rendered page would inadvertently run all plug-ins—even Native Client plug-ins, which are otherwise permitted only for installed extensions and apps," Google's Jorge Lucangeli Obes and Justin Schuh said in an analysis of the attack.
"Of course, getting a Native Client plug-in to execute doesn’t buy much, because the Native Client process’ sandbox is even more restrictive than Chrome’s sandbox for HTML content. What Native Client does provide, however, is a low-level interface to the GPU command buffers, which are used to communicate accelerated graphics operations to the GPU process. This allowed Pinkie to craft a special command buffer to exploit the following integer underflow bug (117656) in the GPU command decoding."
Once he had control of the GPU process, Pinkie Pie needed to find a target for his overwrite. He need the target to be something that was worth his effort to modify, so he went after the GPU buckets.
"For this, he used the GPU buckets, which are another IPC primitive exposed from the GPU process to the Native Client process. The buckets are implemented as a tree structure, with the first eight bytes containing pointers to other nodes in the tree. By overwriting the first eight bytes of a bucket, Pinkie was able to point it to a fake tree structure he created in one of his transfer buffers. Using that fake tree, Pinkie could read and write arbitrary addresses in the GPU process. Combined with some predictable addresses in Windows, this allowed him to build a ROP chain and execute arbitrary code inside the GPU process," the Google analysis said.
"The GPU process is still sandboxed well below a normal user, but it’s not as strongly sandboxed as the Native Client process or the HTML renderer. It has some rights, such as the ability to enumerate and connect to the named pipes used by Chrome’s IPC layer. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but Pinkie found that there’s a brief window after Chrome spawns a new renderer where the GPU process could see the renderer’s IPC channel and connect to it first, allowing the GPU process to impersonate the renderer (bug 117627)."
From there, Pinkie was able to find another bug in one of Chrome's renderers that gave him the ability to access a privileged renderer through an unprivileged one, something that should not have been possible. He used that flaw to gain access to the extension manager inside the browser, and then impersonate that process. Then came the hard part: breaking out of the Chrome sandbox.
"Once he was impersonating the extensions manager, Pinkie used two more bugs to finally break out of the sandbox. The first bug (117715) allowed him to specify a load path for an extension from the extension manager’s renderer, something only the browser should be allowed to do. The second bug (117736) was a failure to prompt for confirmation prior to installing an unpacked NPAPI plug-in extension. With these two bugs Pinkie was able to install and run his own NPAPI plug-in that executed outside the sandbox at full user privilege," Google said.
Opus: Only from RRoD Repairs from MS (rare revisions) 203/175w power supply, can be JTAGged and RGH'd & R-JTAGged.
Due to their nature, fork bombs can be difficult to stop once started. Stopping a fork bomb from reproducing further requires the termination of all running copies, which can be difficult to achieve. One problem faced is that a separate program to terminate the fork bomb cannot execute if the process table is fully saturated. The second major problem is that in the time taken between finding the processes to terminate and actually terminating them, more may have been created.
bomb(){ bomb | bomb &}; bomb The fork bomb in this case is a recursive function that runs in the background, thanks to the ampersand operator. This ensures that the child process does not die and keeps forking new copies of the function, consuming system resources.
You'll need a Wii remote or "Wiimote" to start with. Normally they are about $40, in the end that is not too bad for a pretty awesome sensor. Otherwise you can check out ebay or elsewhere for used or broken Wii remotes.
You'll need to rip apart the case. It has some crazy three pronged screws. I didn't want to completely trash the case so I made a small tool to take it apart.
Now you need to desolder the 8 pins and the 2 struts holding the camera on the board. I used some desoldering braid. It wicks the solder away and makes it easy to get the camera out. Be careful, don't break the camera!
You might want to keep the rest of the parts. You might be able to scrap other parts. Also, If you decide later to use the Wiimote again, you could always put the camera back in.
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I'm deep into NaNo this month on a new book, so here's a dip into the archives for one of my favorites. Enjoy!
Some writers craft meticulous settings and build an amazing worlds, while others use the minimal details to suggest a place. But no matter what kind of story you write, it takes place somewhere. Maybe it's a small room, a town, or even a galaxy. What's more, setting can be a backdrop or a character in the novel. It's versatile!
But what if you're not sure where to set your novel? Then here are a few questions you can ask to find the right setting for your story:
If you’ve always loved a particular location, that passion will spill over into your novel’s setting. A favorite city could be the perfect place for your characters to live. If there’s no specific place, something more general like the beach or the mountains could work as well.
If you want a dark and creepy novel, odds are you won’t set it on a bright and sunny beach. (or maybe you will, because you'll want the contrast) The atmosphere of a place bleeds into the story and will either enhance the mood, or give all the wrong signals if it’s conflicting with what you envision.
If most of the novels in your genre are set in small towns, that’s a pretty good indication that readers expect and look forward to this setting. But that doesn’t mean you have to go with the norm. Do you want a similar setting or something new? Maybe a compromise with a slight twist to what is common for the genre.
If your story is about the effects of war, setting it in the middle of a war gives you a lot to work with. If the theme is love, setting it in the most romantic city in the world might be a solid idea. You might even want to flip it and use the setting to show what’s lacking in that conflict or theme, like having a love story set in a land of war and hatred.
Odds are you have things you know you want from your setting. Perhaps they’re plot elements, or character history, or even a social construct you want to explore. If there’s something critical about your world and setting, make sure you choose a place that will reflect that.
You might want the reader to bring her own memories and views of a real place to the story, or you might want to create an entirely make believe world. A fantasy realm, a distant planet, or even a small town that doesn’t actually exist. Real places might require a little more research to ensure you’re not getting facts wrong, but they also bring a sense of realism to the story. A made up place gives you the freedom to do whatever you want, though it might take more work to build that world.
Consider the scope of your setting. Maybe you want a small town, or just a small room. You might want the story to spread across continents or galaxies.
Big cities offer things rural places don’t and vice versa. Even if your setting is made up, you have options on how metropolitan it will be.
A setting feels differently to someone who’s live there her whole life versus a newcomer. Do you want the reader to feel like a newcomer as well, or like a native?
You might choose to set the novel in your hometown, or pick a place you’ve always wanted to visit. Knowing the locale might be easier to write, though you might also feel the need to get every detail exact (which can bog you down). The freedom to explore a new location could spark excitement and make the setting come alive, (though you could get details wrong and have readers call you on it.)
The setting brings so much to a story, it's worth taking time to find the one that best enhances that story.
Go step-by-step through setting and description-related issues, such as weak world building, heavy infodumping, told prose, awkward stage direction, inconsistent tone and mood, and overwritten descriptions. Learn how to analyze your draft, spot any problems or weak areas, and fix those problems.
With clear and easy-to-understand examples, Fixing Your Setting & Description Problems offers five self-guided workshops that target the common issues that make readers stop reading. It will help you:
Fixing Setting & Description Problems starts every workshop with an analysis to pinpoint problem areas and offers multiple revision options in each area. You choose the options that best fit your writing process. It's an easy-to-follow guide to crafting immersive settings and worlds that draw readers into your story and keep them there.
Janice Hardy is the award-winning author of the teen fantasy trilogy The Healing Wars, including The Shifter, Blue Fire, and Darkfall from Balzer+Bray/Harper Collins. The Shifter, was chosen for the 2014 list of "Ten Books All Young Georgians Should Read" from the Georgia Center for the Book.
When she's not writing novels, she's teaching other writers how to improve their craft. She's the founder of Fiction University and has written multiple books on writing.
But here's the catch--use contradictory imagery. For example, describe a scary setting using a locations that's traditionally, non-scary. Or a romantic setting somewhere that's usually un-romantic. Stuck for ideas? Pick one of these pairings:
Post your entry in the comments section. Deadline for entries is next Monday, July 8th, at noon, EST. I'll choose the winner and post the finalists on Tuesday, July 9th.
Great things to consider, Janice. I still remember how you shared about picking the setting for The Shifter. I think it was awesome how you picked some of a real setting that had what you were looking for and used it to create the setting for your story.
Natalie, thanks! It's my lazy side that take over there, but it does provide a nice foundation. Anything that makes the process easier is good!
I prefer to use a setting that I know. Being a hobby writer, I prefer to spend my limited time writing rather than researching (and research is my job, so I get plenty of it anyway; science I mean)
Keri kicked off her shoes and dug her toes into the sand. Focusing on the almost-unendurable heat rising from the beach might keep the scream down. Maybe.
Her friends dropped their gear in a heap. “C’mon, let’s go in!” Veronica dashed off towards the waves.
“I’ll watch our stuff.” Keri waved weakly as they ran off, laughing. The brutal sun pounded down on her head, driving her to the ground. She hunched inside her hoodie. Maybe she could give herself heatstroke and have an excuse to go home.
Keri frowned as her eyes swept up and down the narrow strip of sand, taking in the relaxed, smiling beachgoers. There was nowhere safe to look. This direction: her friends about to get slammed by a monster wave and sucked out with the undertow. That direction: little kids flirting with the water’s edge, parents yards away and yakking over sangria. Further on: a stone-still lifeguard lounging on her perch, probably asleep behind her mirrored shades. Beside her: a lipstick-red woman courting melanoma. Keri closed her eyes. All she needed now were some circling shark fins to make the horror complete.
Something purple washed up beside a toddler. Keri was on her feet before she knew it. She grabbed the kid’s shovel, flipped the Portugese man o’ war into the rocks at the base of the breakwater and thrust the shovel back at the now-wailing child.
Laura opened the door slowly, her right eye twitching slightly at the screeching hinges. She hoped the sound of the shower drowned out that noise, but she wasn’t deterred. Then the smell of freshly sprayed, canned cinnamon and apple slapped her in the face. At least it did its job she thought, giggling slightly before she could help herself. Throwing a hand up to cover her mouth, she looked into the mirror of the oak medicine cabinet, watching his form behind the light blue curtain. He made no noise in response and his movements didn’t stop. He hadn’t heard her. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and continued into the room. The cool grey tile chilled her; she looked down at her exposed flesh, knowing he would be pleased. The confidence she normally lacked was bursting from her thanks to the two sea breezes she’d consumed. She was unapologetic for at being a cheap date. The water shut off abruptly, causing her panic in the unplanned silence. Unsure of what to do next, she sat on the only thing there was to sit down on. Turning sideways, she crossed her legs and let her blonde hair spill over a shoulder.
CA Heaven, smart. Knowing what you want out of your writing and work goes a long way to knowing how much time to spend on what. Saves you a lot of worry, too!
The water dulled each grain of sand to blunt redundancy. As numerous as the stars in the sky and burning as hot as a dying supernova. The heat lay like a shroud over anything that made a sound. Even the insects only dared sing in pianissmo minor tones. A trail of clouds strangled the horizon line where the last crimson stain of sun was vanishing into the ocean. The palm trees bowed their leaves in defeat to the oncoming darkness. Not even a wind to breathe life back into them.
Broken glass circled a rock at the border between beach and cement. It would turn to sand, one day, if given the chance. But the resort staff would dispose of it before it had the chance to attain that potential. Instead it was just another broken dream.
The flowers all looked up at the sky. As if in disdain of their surroundings. Elitists who whispered amongst each other about the ugly scars of humanity all around them. They knew the secret to simplicity but kept silent for the pleasure of seeing humanity suffer.
Empty beach chairs sat straight-backed under folded umbrellas. Each one’s age evident by the sag where a thousand people had sat. Leaving the weight of their troubles behind on the sun-bleached plastic. A few discarded chairs had broken under the burden.
He looked at the crumbled pink slip in his hand. He didn’t know why he thought he could escape it here.
For setting, I just pick a general location and then roam around a tour book until I find something that catches my eye as a potential place. It doesn't have to be a place I've been. Part of the fun is being a book tourist. For a story I'm researching now, I picked the location because I wanted fog for the story.
But I'm also a lazy researcher. I don't want to research the setting as if I were doing a term paper. I pick a couple of good tour books -- what are the unusual features, what animals and plants are there, etc. Older Google free books can also be sometimes helpful. I got some really great descriptions of how the sea behaves in that area from a county history. I also look for photos of the place to help me build on the setting.
I've recently been experimenting with picking a date in history for the story and researching the weather. This is NOT for the .1 percent of the readers who will nitpick the story, but to make me pay attention to the details that I'm likely to miss entirely. It forces me to make a conscious decision about time of the year and think about if it's cold or hot or windy (time of the year is important to get the fog). For my Point Reyes research, I also checked when low and high tide was because that would make a difference in a key piece of the story.
BTW, none of this is complicated. I probably took 2-3 hours on the research, mainly because I want to have enough that I could reuse the research on future projects.
I would not, could not let go of her hand. The lights glared down from on high. Exposed. Nowhere to hide. The hairs on my skin stood to attention at the sound of the click clacking approach of no nonsense heels. Escape – now, before the woman arrived. I turned to the door. Too late. Through the heavy frosted glass panel I saw her, a vast figure silhouetted by the florescent lights. She threw back the door and I gagged as the smell of hospital grade disinfectant assailed my nostrils. “Good morning!”
I mumbled a reply. It was all too soon, a mistake, it hadn’t really been my choice after all, to be here now gripping the little hand in mine.
The paper work all signed at the front desk. I was committed now. I squinted into the corners of the ceiling, searched for a dark recess at the edge of the room; nothing, no dark space or quiet corner to hide in, no den to retreat to. No unseen space to call my own. Correction, her own.
The floor tiles are too white and the furniture too colourful l. I am reminded of the time my technicolour vomit sprayed across Aunt Stella’s stark minimalist bathroom. (Five years old – too many lollies.)
The little hand tugs in mine, pulling away. “Hello. I’m Zoe.” My daughter addresses the woman with confidence. Distant squeals reach our ears. Freed from my grip she darts into the bright independent world of the pre-school centre.
Linda, love the term "book tourist." I also love the weather tip! What a great way to get into the feel of a setting from a unique angle. It's the small things that can really bring a setting to life. Fantastic ideas.
The rainbow of colors blurs in my eyes. The sun has freshly risen, drowning us in light and brilliance. The pimpled hills shimmer with color and plastic. Behind them towers rugged rock, torn bare by the wind. The valley is empty, echoing with the crunching of our steps.
“The boarding house is getting full,” he says, peeling his hand away from mine to pluck a pink baggie from the ground. His fingers play around with silver ring inside it.
My eyes float past the hill, and a spear of sunlight curls around my head, blindfolding me. Everything under our feet glows.
“We need one more room.” I’m caught in the web of his eyes again– gray and warm. Soft like a bird’s fuzz. Fringed with black lashes. “I was thinking you could move out of yours.”
“Move where?” My voice flies over the polka dotted hills. It's so quiet, only the rustling of leaves and grass behind us brushing in my ears.
Two flies buzz around a rotten rose that’s squished between grimy garbage bags. My face crunches up at the repugnant smell blown into my face by the wind. Then I catch the spiciness of his cologne.
“It’s not supposed to be crazy. It’s supposed to be a marriage proposal.” That’s when he squelches down on one knee.
People like to say that small children see their parents as saints. And for the most part that might be true, but Maxwell knew from the age of five and a half years old his parents where hardly higher than the dirt that liked to stick to his clothes and get him in trouble. From the age of 8, he knew what the word alcoholic meant, and by the time he was 10 he knew how to pay for a weeks worth of food with just fifteen dollars. The dysfunctional family lived in a miniscule house that was painted an awful shade of yellow. The inside wasn’t much better, what with peeling wallpaper and the always present smell of cigarette smoke that liked to stick to Max’s clothing and never leave. The electric bills were never paid, neither where the water bills. The only thing that kept them from getting evicted entirely was that the landlord didn't give a damn about this house.
I'm also on the same NaNoWriMo path as you are and the words come in a hurry or they come like giving birth......which I guess is what it is. Happy writing Janice, I'll think of you at your keyboard (nearly said typewriter!!) whilst I'm at mine. Jan
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