75 lines
3.7 KiB
Text
75 lines
3.7 KiB
Text
==Phrack Inc.==
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Volume One, Issue 7, Phile 3 of 10
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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The following was written shortly after my arrest...
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\/\The Conscience of a Hacker/\/
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by
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+++The Mentor+++
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Written on January 8, 1986
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager
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Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...
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Damn kids. They're all alike.
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But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain,
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ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what
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made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?
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I am a hacker, enter my world...
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Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of
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the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...
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Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
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I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain
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for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms.
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Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."
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Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
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I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is
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cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I
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screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me...
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Or feels threatened by me...
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Or thinks I'm a smart ass...
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Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...
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Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.
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And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through
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the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is
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sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is
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found.
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"This is it... this is where I belong..."
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I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to
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them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
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Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
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You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at
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school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip
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through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or
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ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us will-
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ing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
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This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the
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beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying
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for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and
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you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek
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after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color,
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without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals.
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You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us
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and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.
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Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is
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that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like.
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My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me
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for.
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I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual,
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but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.
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+++The Mentor+++
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_______________________________________________________________________________
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