
.ili.   Devil Shat Thirty   .ili.
---------------------------------


   The Hacker's Manifesto, 1998 ........... by Morbus & Stillborn


This is Devil Shat Thirty released on 07/02/98. Devil Shat is published
by Disobey and is protected under all copyright laws. All of the issues
are archived at the Disobey website: http://www.disobey.com/

Submissions, email, and news should be sent to morbus@disobey.com. Your
comments are welcome. What do you want us to write about? Send an email
and let us know.

Hilarious redemption covers all aspects.


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.ili. The Hacker's Manifesto, 1998 .ili.
---------------------------------------- by Morbus & Stillborn

On Monday, June 22, 1998, the webserver that Disobey.com resided on
was hacked. After two days of people coming to the site in hopes of
finding the quality content that they have grown accustomed too, they
were met with 404's in every direction.

It sucked real bad.

Our first reaction, was of course, one of anger. All of our hard work
destroyed by one person with a lucky keypress. And then we started
laughing. What follows is what came out of our minds at the time...
we think it's pretty funny, and you should too.

Some background information: The Hacker's Manifesto was released long
ago, by a person named the Mentor. This paper has been heralded by
every self-proclaimed hacker in the world, and is often the basis of
their life. Any crappy hacking page will have it up there, with
exclamation points preceding its arrival, as if they had to hack the
Pentagon to get the damn thing.

This is the 1998 version of the Hacker's Manifesto. It is not
intended as anything more than an indication of where hacking was and
where hacking is now. Most of you from this line of work will know
the original version to a degree, and understand the humor below. The
original version follows directly after.

And without further adieu:


   The Hacker's Manifesto, 1998

   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 year two thousand worries, 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 smaller than most of the other kids, this crap they
   teach us eludes 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 chatroom. Wait a second, this is
   cool. I do what I want to. If someone pisses me off, I nuke them. Not
   from my ingenuity... Or from the coding I've learned... Or being
   creative youth... Or even from making my own scripts...

   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 abuse is sought... a script is
   found. "This is it... this will make me look 'eleet'..."

   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 are second generation self titled hackers, the kind that security
   has no fear of. The scripts that we use have been used a thousand
   different times, a thousand different ways, a thousand different
   names. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic.
   Our credit card numbers are generated from someone else's idea and
   the only use they get is invading pornography sites in hope for...
   uhh... knowledge.

   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 porn sites... and you
   call us Criminals. We seek after... uhh... knowledge... and you call
   us Criminals.

   We exist without skin color, without originality, 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 how many non letter characters
   they have in their name, not what they look like. My crime is that of
   thinking I've outsmarted you, something 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 .\\3/\/+0r


What does this accomplish? Nothing besides lightening the mood and
having a good laugh. And sometimes, that is just all you can do. Out
of respect, we present the original version of the Hacker's
Manifesto, written by the Mentor.


The Hacker's Manifesto, Original

   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 a 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 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 addicts 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 seek after
   knowledge, and you call us Criminals.

   We exist without skin colour, 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 and 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, this is my Manifesto. You may stop the individual,
   but you can't stop us all. After all, we're all alike.

   The Mentor


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The website edition includes images, a nice design, and all of the email
we have received about this issue. Go there and um, er, have fun:

   http://www.disobey.com/devilshat/

Copyright 1997-1999 Disobey. You may not steal, maim, hold for ransom,
kill, or rape any part of this issue.

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