The Conscience of a Hacker

==Phrack Inc.==

Volume One, Issue 7, Phile 3 of 10

 

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The following was written shortly after my arrest...

\/\The Conscience of a Hacker/\/

by

+++The Mentor+++

Written on January 8, 1986

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     Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...

     Damn kids. They're all alike.

     But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?

     I am a hacker, enter my world...

     Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...

     I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."

     Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.

     I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me...

        Or feels threatened by me...

        Or thinks I'm a smart ass...

        Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...

     Damn kid.  All he does is play games.  They're all alike.

     Damn underachiever.  They're all alike.

     And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found.

     "This is it... this is where I belong..."

     I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...

     Damn kid.  Tying up the phone line again.  They're all alike...

     You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.

     This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals.

     You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.

     Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.

    I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.

+++The Mentor+++

What is going on?

we all know what has happened in Mumbai and how our brave soldiers, cops and civilians laid down their lives resisting the terrorist attack. we all stand behind these brave souls and their beraved family in their time of sadness mingled with pride. 

all over the country, citizens have found their own ways of showing solidarity. most of the cities have seen candle light vigils that have been organized to pray for these brave sons and saughters of India.

sadly, this grief has not touched our politicians. even in this time of tragedy, they are hell bent on playing the games of onemanship - trying to pull some political gains out of this tragedy. while the leading party is trying to shift the blame, the opposition parties are trying to show how if they were in power, things would have been different. there seems to be a competition in who announces more reward.... the same leaders who till yesterday were claiming that the ATS was corrupt because they had caught a so called sadhvi in connection with the malegaon blast are now in praise of the same ATS.. and had even anounced a huge monetry compensation for its chief, who sadly laid down his life while fighting for the country.

the CM of kerala rushed to bangalore to the house of the brave major Sandeep Unnikrishnan after he came to know that he was originally from kerala..... and was unceremonously thrown out by the bereaved father, who did not want a political drama to unfold in his house or the condolence of someone who does not even feel the pain of loosing a fellow countryman, let alone a son...... 

and now we have Mr Naqui claiming that the candle light vigils are nothing but following the "Western culture", and has women who have used lipstick and powder..... well Mr Naqui, maybe they were dressed - but atleast they were there to show their solidarity - to assert that we as a country stand united in such troubled times - that we do not care from which state the martyrs belonged or which religion they followed - all we care about is that our motherland has lost a few brave sons while the so called leaders where sitting in their pulsh bunglows - discussing the situation and doing nothing....

if this is the kind of leaders we have then i believe that it is time we take things into our own hands - maybe it is time the citizens of this great country rise above the petty politics, unite - and show these leaders that they exist because of and for us - and not vice versa.

This is an Indian, signing off...

Over and out

A cyclist is reborn.............

During my school days, I was an avid cyclist - and had many a ride with my friends Alikesh, Prashant, and Raju and explored the outskirts of my hometown, Unnao. The two rides that I remember most vividly are as follows - 

Once, I and Prashant rode out to go to a iron factory located around 9 Km from our city (and around 11 from where we stayed) - and all this just to get a certificate saying that we have inspected their factory - to be attached to the project file we had to make as a part of our ICSE board exams, all for a measly 20 marks. Needless to say, the guard at the front door shooed us away (I suspect he must have had a laugh with his co-workers later)

The other time, we were getting bored of sitting at home, and so decided to visit a mutual friend. But when we reached his place, we were told that he had gone to Kanpur. Rather than turn back, we decided to ride on and discovered a centre for training of fire fighters after around 6 Km. (I know I know, but it was a discovery our own private universe)

In those days I used to have a Hero Ranger MTB (which was just launched in the splattered dual colour model). Later, when my Dad got fed up of paying for the repairs of fallen screws and flat tyres, he gave it away while I was away from home – and bought me a Hero Jet plus.

But somewhere down the line, the good old cycle lost its sheen and was replaced with bikes and scooters.... (In those days scooters were still in use and were considered a nice ride). I tried to blackmail my parents into buying me a bike - but they somehow were able to resist all such demands of mine.

Then came the time of coaching for engineering – where I shifted to Lucknow for my classes. Since my coaching was far from home, and because of the erratic timings, my father absolutely forbade me using the cycle as a mode of travel. Also, as I had started to feel ashamed of travelling on a hero jet (as it is the bicycle most associated with the milk mans, who prefer it for its sturdiness), I too did not insist on using a cycle.

After the coaching came the four years of studying for my engineering degree – and since my college was about 9 Km from the city, the preferred mode of travel of mine was the ever present tempo and (later) my Dad’s scooter.

After completing my degree, I was offered a job in a Software company and was transferred to Hyderabad. By now, cycles had again come into prominence – not as a mode of travel – but as a mode of recreation, meeting new people, and remaining fit. But since my office was like 25 Km from my place, and being a notoriously late riser and a very lazy person to boot, I could never get myself to go to a shop and purchase a new bike.

We even had a cycle show in our office, but they displayed the firefox range, and for a guy earning a measly 12000 bucks, even the thought of purchasing a bike for 25000 bucks is like wishing to buy a Ferrari……

And then I got into a project and was transferred to an office which was near to my place. I could have bought a cycle then, but I pacified myself by claiming that my home was not secure to park a cycle (Indeed, we did not even have a parking  - and so the cycle had to be parked on the road – and the area was not very good when it comes to security).

And then we shifted to a new house – which is in a gated community and has guards at the gate round the clock. The first thought that came to my mind after coming to the new home was that I can now buy a cycle – but I kept postponing my visit to the showroom…..

And then, last month, one of my friends posted the picture of his cycle on his blog site…. And I fell in love once again. But time was a big constraint – as I was working over the weekend also.

And finally I got a Saturday free last weekend, and the first thing I did after waking up was to go and purchase a cycle for my own. I bought a Hercules Atom with 18 gears – and I have been going to office on my new bike since then. And the reactions of my colleagues and bystanders are fun …. Some of my office mates and one of my roommates has tried to deter me from going to office on a cycle as it is meant for the guards only (what sad thinking!!)… Others smile, and still others have praised me and have promised to purchase a bike of their own…. I have been asked by strangers about the bike, its cost… and today I was praised by an auto driver for doing the right thing.

Such comments make me happy – and make me curse myself for having waited for so long for purchasing the bike…..

The only thing is, I am so out of tune and my fitness level is below zero – so I am still not in top gear. The distances which I used to cover without a curve on my brow now leave me thirsty and a tad tired. Add to that the fact that I had started smoking in my B.Tech – and I am left with burnt out lungs…… but I will get to it. I am gradually increasing the distances I cover every day – and soon I will be in prime shape (hopefully)

Till then, this is a reborn cyclist, signing off….

Over and out.

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ू-ए-क़ातिल में है

(ऐ वतन,) करता नहीं क्यूँ दूसरा कुछ बातचीत,
देखता हूँ मैं जिसे वो चुप तेरी महफ़िल में है
ऐ शहीद-ए-मुल्क-ओ-मिल्लत, मैं तेरे ऊपर निसार,
अब तेरी हिम्मत का चरचा ग़ैर की महफ़िल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

वक़्त आने पर बता देंगे तुझे, ए आसमान,
हम अभी से क्या बताएँ क्या हमारे दिल में है
खेँच कर लाई है सब को क़त्ल होने की उमीद,
आशिकों का आज जमघट कूचा-ए-क़ातिल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

है लिए हथियार दुश्मन ताक में बैठा उधर,
और हम तैयार हैं सीना लिए अपना इधर.
ख़ून से खेलेंगे होली गर वतन मुश्क़िल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

हाथ, जिन में है जूनून, कटते नही तलवार से,
सर जो उठ जाते हैं वो झुकते नहीं ललकार से.
और भड़केगा जो शोला सा हमारे दिल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

हम तो घर से ही थे निकले बाँधकर सर पर कफ़न,
जाँ हथेली पर लिए लो बढ चले हैं ये कदम.
ज़िंदगी तो अपनी मॆहमाँ मौत की महफ़िल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

यूँ खड़ा मक़्तल में क़ातिल कह रहा है बार-बार,
क्या तमन्ना-ए-शहादत भी किसी के दिल में है?
दिल में तूफ़ानों की टोली और नसों में इन्कलाब,
होश दुश्मन के उड़ा देंगे हमें रोको न आज.
दूर रह पाए जो हमसे दम कहाँ मंज़िल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

ज़िस्म भी क्या ज़िस्म है जिसमे न हो ख़ून-ए-जुनून
क्या लड़े तूफ़ान से जो कश्ती-ए-साहिल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ू-ए-क़ातिल में है

Ram Prasad Bismil

a favourite poem of mine.........

Forget about the days when u you've been lonely
.....But the don't forget the friendly smiles you've seen

Forget about the days, when it has been cloudy
.....But don't forget your hour in the sun

Forget about the time, when you have been defeated
.....But don't forget the victories you've won

Forget about the misfortunes, you've encountered
.....But dont'forget the times your Luck has turned

Forget about the mistakes, you can't change New
.....But don't forget the Lessons you've Learnt

Forget about the Plans, that didn't seem to work right
.....but don't forget to always have a dream

The Chronicles - chapter 1 - my early days

i do not remember much about my early days (obviously!!), but my parents tell me that i was a very naughty kid, and was very protective about my younger sister. infact so protective, that when in our later years we used to fight like anything, they used to wonder if we were the same kids......

another highlight of my nappy days was that i used to love to imitate my mom while cooking, so that kitchen was my playground - and i used ti demand for all utensils that i laid my eyes on - so much so that at times mom did not have anything left in which to cook food in.

also, i never slept at night (a habit that continues to this day), so my mom and dad had a hell of a time raisig me - specially my dad, coz he used to come tired from office, and then just as soon as he was dozing off, i began my "waa waa" song (Thnx dad for bearing with me)

then when i started to walk, one day i broke a glass bottle while my mom was in the kitchen and i was in he living room, and by the time she came running, i had cut my feet by walking on the glass shreds. the time till this injury was healed was like living hell for my parents, since i always used to untie the bandages and try to walk

i was a late walker, and the first time i walked, i actually ran from the bedroom to the main gate (it has like 3 rooms and an aangan in between)........ only when i reached the door did i stop (mainly because it was closed). my mom still jokes that had the door not been closed that day, God knows till where i would have ran!!!

that when i was 10 months old, i had a real bad case of jaundice, and the doctors feared for my life. my mom sat on the hospital bench for 3 days and 3 nights straight, till the time i was not declared out of danger. and my elder sis was caught praying in front of the mirror, asking god to take her life n spare mine....... Aapu n Mom - i love you!!!

that i was a big child, and during the pregnancy days the doctors believed that it were to be twins. think of the fun we could have had!!
thses are some of my recollections from my ealry days.....

this is Hashir, signing off

over and out

The chronicles start

This is the start of Chronicles of the Doodles. for the uninformed, doodles are the drawings you do unintentionally while you are busy with something else......

so, here i am, on a saturday evening, writing away to glory while the world around me is enjoying and having a blast.. Poor man, you would say, but please do not be so fast in drawing conclusions, for according to me weekends are a time to relax..... and for me the best form of relaxation is sitting infront of my laptop and do whatever i feel like doing..... you may say that i am addicted with computers.... and that is true.

i have just turned 25, and the only thing i have been sure of all along is that i need a computer to survive. coding is my life, and is the biggest ego booster for me. believe me, the kick that you get whan you have finally created that tough code can be matched by nothing.

but after two years in the software industry, i feel dejected, distraught and find that all my dreams are shattered. while in college me and my friends believed that to succeed in this industry all you neeed to know is how to code, and innovative solutions are rewarded. but i find that in the service based software companies like the one i am working in, it is not your skills in front of the computer but rather the skills with which you can interact with the client, write mails, and kiss your manager's a** that matters here.

i still am continuing with this organization partly because my bond is still not up, and partly because of some other reasons. but once i am free of these boundations, i will break the shackles and soar in the wind like a free bird.....

hopefully that day will come soon.....

right now this is Hashir, signing off......
Over and out