Amal Graafstra snaps on a pair of black rubber gloves. “Do you want to talk about pain management techniques?” he asks. The bearded systems administrator across the table, who requested I call him “Andrew,” has paid Grafstra $30 to have a radio-frequency identification (RFID) chip injected into the space between his thumb and pointer finger, and as Graafstra describes Lamaze-type breathing methods, Andrew looks remarkably untroubled, in spite of the intimidatingly high-gauge syringe sitting on the table between them.
Graafstra finishes his pain talk, fishes a tiny cylindrical two-millimeter diameter EM4012 RFID chip out of a tin of isopropyl alcohol, and drops it into the syringe’s end, replacing the RFID tag intended for pets that came with the injection kit. He swabs Andrew’s hand with iodine, carefully pinches and pulls up a fold of skin on the top of his hand to create a tent of flesh, and with the other hand slides the syringe into the subcutaneous layer known as the fascia, just below the surface.
Then he plunges the plastic handle and withdraws the needle. A small crowd of onlookers applauds. The first subject of the day has been successfully chipped.
Over the course of the weekend, Andrew would be one of eight people to undergo the RFID implantation among the 500 or so attendees of Toorcamp, a hacker conference and retreat near the northwest corner of Washington State. Graafstra’s “implantation station” was set up in the open air: Any camper willing to spend $30 and sign a liability waiver could have the implantation performed, and after the excitement of Andrew’s injection, a small line formed to be next.
And why volunteer to be injected with a chip that responds to radio signals with a unique identifier, a procedure typically reserved for tracking pets and livestock? “I thought it would be cool,” says Andrew, when we speak at a picnic table a few minutes after his injection. (The pain, he tells me, was only a short pinch, followed by a “weird feeling of a foreign body sliding into my hand.”)
The practical appeal of an RFID implant, in theory, is quick authentication that’s faster, cheaper and more reliable than other biometrics like thumbprints or facial scans. When the chip is hit with a radio frequency signal, it emits a unique identifier number that functions like a long, unguessable password. Implantees like Andrew imagine the ability to unclutter their pockets of keys and keycards and instead access their cars, computers, and homes with with a mere wave of the hand. -Source
RFID Chip Implantation
Hungary Festivals Go Cashless with Metapay
Metapay introduced an RFID-based wristband solution designed specifically for event planners and festival organizers.
The RFID-based wristband is multifunctional with support for secure access control, in addition to cashless payments. In fact, the service has already processed nearly 1.1 million transactions at three festivals in Hungary this summer.
Sziget Festival, one of the largest music and cultural festivals in Europe, is using all of the services that Metapay has to offer, including Metapay Festivalcard the cashless payment system, Maestro PayPass and MasterCard Pay Pass products and the RFID-based wristband solution.
Developed by the company itself, Metapay uses this same RFID-based electronic access control system at its own facilities. Staff enters Metapay facilities by using their wristband in which a built-in chip identifies them. -Source
Radio Frequency ID Bill: Kin To 'Big Brother?'
Opponents of the controversial red-light camera bill pending in the state legislature have called it a "Big Brother" bill — an Orwellian expression of their worry that enforcement cameras at intersections could gather information on citizens' movements for databases that might be misused to violate privacy or civil rights.
But the red-light bill has distracted attention from a second legislative proposal that has been progressing much less noisily at the Capitol — even though it could lead someday to "a true surveillance society of 24/7 mass tracking," according to the American Civil Liberties Union of Connecticut's director, Andrew Schneider.
Civil libertarians might call it the red-light bill's "Little Brother."
But its real name is Senate Bill 288, "An Act Requiring a Study of Radio-Frequency Identification for Motor Vehicle Registration." -Source