them, me, woman
I was on MySpace talking to someone I didn't feel I could trust.
them: "Hey, can you give me your e-mail address? I'd rather contact you directly."
me: "No. If you know my email address, it makes it easier for you to hack the password retrieval facility and get control of my account. Forget it."
Visiting MySpace's "Forgot your password?" page within the dream, I saw a warning which referenced a Chinese principle of "there is no real truth".
When I'm offered to create my own password recovery "secret question", I use "Do you believe in God?" It's a nice reminder to anyone who is hacking for the wrong reasons that everything is logged and traced somehow--and they will be found out...eventually.
There was a segue way to where I was using a rather elaborate version of Gmail, except it was unable to attach files in a simple way. You had to go through a long list of options, picking the file type. I just wanted to send myself a text file, and though it was stressful I eventually sent the following to my real-life address:
"Hi, we are upgrading security protocols, and seeing whether any of our accounts have been compromised. If you are authorized to use this account this test should not concern you; please present some basic identifying information and we'll get back to you. If you are unauthorized, please know that this notice will be followed by potentially deadly force."
Shortly I sent this, a woman from the administration desk at the lab walked up to me.
woman: "The manager of the system just requested all of the people currently using the terminals upload photographs of themselves to the main server."
me: "Uh, I don't know how to do that. But please listen...I can only speak for a short time before I lose access to the body I am in. Please describe what I look like, or anything else you know--even if it seems obvious!"
She was not helpful. I kept making a scene, and eventually I attracted enough attention from the room that people were laughing at me.
me: (angry) "You are all of such limited intellect that you cannot fathom the importance of what I'm doing. With that attitude, you'll be stuck forever within the bounds of your tiny domains. I hope you suffer for your smallness."
I was feeling a bit choked while getting stressed out, and realized I was wearing some kind of collar. Ripping it off, I awoke.
Currently I am experimenting with using Disqus for comments, however it is configured that you don't have to log in or tie it to an account. Simply check the "I'd rather post as a guest" button after clicking in the spot to type in a name.