The Diary of a Hacker (Prologue)
Why a beginning? There has never been a beginning! It has always been with me. I don’t know why, I don’t know where or when it all began. I just know that it’s been with me for a while. So forget about a beginning. I’d like to start from the middle:
A Command prompt opens. color 0a. Other colors just dont suit my style. net view. Holy crap all these computers are on LAN? Let’s try something new…
wait… I look around. The teacher is teaching other students. I’m in level 3 so he doesn’t bother teasing me much. I should know what I’m supposed to do after all (even though I didn’t actually TAKE levels 1&2, I skipped them!!) So I guess I should be fine…
This is High School and Computer Science doesn’t have many fans. People think of Firefox as an operating system. “Internet Explorer” is the same as “Internet”. A command prompt MEANS a hacker. a “Tree” command MEANS hacking to an international database!
However, there is still a class in which people learn computer science level 2! but there are only 8 of us in this classroom: an Asian guy with glasses and pimples all over his face, he browses for jokes on his computer all the time. The other guy: Asian again, but this one has neither glasses nor pimples. He just sits quietly by himself in the corner all the time, does his homework. Good kid. Very depressing that someone with his talents doesn’t like computer science. Another guy: Weird face, glasses, straight hair but no asian eyes. Looks Bulgarian or something: Dubstep, Break Dance, a novel with a circuit on its cover, a tuned voice, as if a robot is speaking. This is all I can remember from him, but I expect much more. We have some of the stuff in common, just some, but this guy, with all these technology themes floating around him, doesn’t like programming either. Why?? Aren’t the computers cool enough for someone like you??
“Laziness triggers this boredom.” My brain answers me.
Other one is a Nerd-looking one: Reminds me of the genius kid in “Meet The Robinsons” Another talented-looking kid. However, he likes to spend his time playing Mario rather than some real-deal programming!! Why??
“You just don’t get it do you?” My brain replies. His words make me hate him because he’s always right.
The others don’t even count: A Paki who does his World History homework during CS classes, and the other one is just… not there.
These are all level 2 students.
Level 3 has even fewer students. Guess how many? only… 2. One of them is me, and the other one…
No luck on that one either, even tho hes level 3.
The other level 3 student is from Bangladesh, a stupid, weird, nerdy guy who spends his time watching classic movies and looking for fashion designers. He doesn’t understand a crap out of computers. All he does is what his parents tell him to do. He can’t write a single algorithm, and so far he’s survived because he’s been cheating from my hand.
All these thoughts pass through my mind. So who am I? Why am I sitting here? Do I deserve to be with these people?
I had the answers: I’m not a weirdo, not a dubstep dancer, not a nerdy asian. I’m just the one that actually LOVES computer science and ENJOYS being here, in this class. And I’m sitting here because I thought that this class is supposed to teach us about computers (and it did, however, in a VERYY BOOOORIIING WAY!) if I was a regular student like them, I’d give myself the right to hate that class. I mean, 8 students overall (from which one of them is mentally retarded!) + 27 stupid computers to be programmed with a language like JAVA! and some lessons such as Trees and Sorting and Searching and GRID WORLD! (WHY???) for a student who has just started exploring the world of computers. Such great beginning! I don’t blame them…
That’s why I hate beginnings, so I started from the middle: Command prompt, color 0a, net view, and all those computer names appeared. I was facinated again, I was totally thrown out of my own world.
Being thrown out of the world… such familiar feeling. I’m never where I’m supposed to be. My mind flies: it flies all over the place. The only thing that keeps it in one place is a screen full of code.
All my world was that Black-and-green command prompt now. shutdown \\computername. A whole lot of text, which means wrong syntax. Looking through the help… GOTCHA!
Went to my friends computer: The pimply asian guy. Computer > Properties, wrote down his computer name on my palm with a pen. Back to my own. Shutdown /r /f /m \\D97618. 10 seconds pass. Network address not resolved! Crap… well who cares imma just try random computers displayed by net view. shutdown … shutdown … shutdown … shutdown …
meh! Nothing is happening! I pressed enter and the last shutdown command was hopelessly entered… Another failed experiment…
Teacher’s voice rises: “hmmm… What is this? Windows shutting down in a few seconds? Why?”
I looked at his face, then back to my screen, again at his face, then back to my screen. I didn’t mean to do it!!! And while my brain thought hidden, my tongue shouted the truth. The white hat on my head made me confess.
…
You can guess my teacher’s reaction: He didn’t like it, even though I was his best student. Even though I revealed a security threat to him which he could fix later. He told me not to tell anyone. Sure I wont… (Evil laugh!)
But why couldn’t I shutdown my friends computer?? I take a look at those names again. His computer name is not on the list, neither are all the other computers’ in that room. So, what are these???…
The thought passed from my mind like a thunder, shaking my entire body. “They better not be all the teachers computers…”
For the first time, I had experienced the sweet taste of power… The Power Of A Hacker…
…
It was so sweet that I came home and started this Diary, without a single ray of hope for anybody to read it. I don’t write it for the others to read it, after all, how many people know what I’m talking about when I speak about the world of Black and Green? How many people know what I’m talking about when I say GUI? How many people even care about whether they know about these stuff or not? How many people like to read the Diary of A Hacker????
But I don’t write it because I want the others to read it. I write it because I feel like doing it. It’s so sweet that remembering those memories gives me a happy time, and writing them down, makes me even happier. That’s why I write about hacking: Simply, because I’m a Hacker!
The Hacker Manifesto
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…
Damn underachiever. They’re all alike.
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.
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.
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This article is written by a Hacker called ++The Mentor++ in Written January 8, 1986. It’s also called “The Conscience of a Hacker”… I will say no sentence but one: “The Article That Changed My World And Made Me Who I Am Today”…!