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1019 lines
No EOL
48 KiB
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==Phrack Magazine==
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Volume Four, Issue Forty-Four, File 8 of 27
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Conference News
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Part III
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****************************************************************************
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A Hacker At The End Of The Universe
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by Erik Bloodaxe
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Eight hours on a plane isn't that bad. It isn't that fucking great
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either, but it isn't the end of the world. This is especially true
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under certain circumstances like if you were being inducted into the
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mile-high club by means of an obscure tantric ceremony, or you've just
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successfully hijacked a 747, or you are nestled in your seat on your way
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to Amsterdam.
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Unfortunately, I haven't hijacked much lately, and as far as the mile
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high club goes I'm pretty sure you need a partner to join; but as I was on
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my way to Hacktic's Hacking at the End of the Universe conference, I was
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stoked.
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When I finally arrived in Amsterdam and breezed through customs, I was
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greeted with the pleasant sight of a LOD Internet World Tour T-Shirt
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being held up above the throngs congregating at the customs exit. Its
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owner, Carl, was probably the only American that I knew that was going
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to be in this country so we had arranged previously to meet. The shirt
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was my beacon.
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EB's Handy Travelling Tip #1: Never have more bags than you have hands.
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I was to find out that we were in for a good deal of walking. Me being
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such a fucking plan ahead kind of guy, had packed enough clothes for 8 days
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and brought a camcorder as well as my laptop and assorted other crap. This
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was all find and dandy except for the fact that I had three bags and only two
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hands. I hoisted one bag up on a shoulder strap (which would begin its
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week-long gradual slicing into my collarbone) and drug the other two bags
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behind me.
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Carl had rented a room in Naarden at a Best Western or something. The con
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was in Lelystad somewhere. Neither of us had any idea of exactly where
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these two places were in relation to one another. We would soon find
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that they were no where close.
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EB's Handy Travelling Trip #2: Buy a Eurail Pass or the national equivalent
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thereof.
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Luckily, Carl had the foresight to suggest that we should buy a train
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pass for the week. It was only like 50 bucks and got us free rides
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on the trains, trams, buses, and train-taxis everywhere in the Netherlands.
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It MORE than paid for itself.
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We hopped a train and rode to the Amere stop, then took a taxi to
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the hotel, dropped off our crap then rode a bus back to the station
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and went into Amsterdam.
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Amsterdam is a really neat place. I think everyone should go there
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at least once. Carl and I wandered around for hours and hours
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just checking things out. During our travels I discovered some really
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neat places.
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EB's Handy Travelling Tip #3: Pornography Is Good.
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Foreign Pornography is GREAT!
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I have to respect a country that has smut proudly displayed everywhere.
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In every magazine rack, in every train station, convenience store and
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in large (clean, well-lit, heh) stores everywhere, smut. Not your average
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run of the mill nastiness either. We're talking monumental titles
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like "Teenage Sperm," "Seventeen," "Teeners From Holland," "Sex Bizarre,"
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and "Color Climax."
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I went in every smut shop we saw. I think Carl wanted to die of embarrassment.
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I was like a kid in a candy store. It was really pathetic. You would not
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believe the shit they sell over there. Well, maybe you would. I pray
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that I can buy a vcr that transfers PAL to NTSC someday.
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One of the most hilarious items I saw was a HUGE dildo in the shape of an
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arm with a fist. And I mean life size. Like Arnold Schwartzenegger's
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arm life size. I wonder if that's a big seller?
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We finally got totally zonked out and headed back to the hotel to
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relieve our jetlag tomorrow was the con!
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EB's Handy Travelling Tip #4: Always take the Train Taxi
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In Holland, once you get off the train, for an extra 10 guilders, you can
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get a pass for a special taxi to take you anywhere you need to go. Carl
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and I didn't find this out until a few 20 dollar cab rides to the campground.
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HEU was held out in the Dutch countryside. A more appropriate title might
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have been "Hacking in the Middle of Fucking Nowhere." The taxi driver
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had been shuttling people out there all day. As we approached the campground
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signs for the conference began to show up. Signs of geekdom on the horizon.
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We got out at the gate, and walked over to the tent that said registration.
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In the tent were a couple of guys who took your picture and printed out
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a badge with your picture digitized on it.
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The area was layed out very well. There was a very big barn like structure
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where several dozen computers were all networked together. I sat down
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at one and saw that there was even a slip trying to work. With that many
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people trying to be on the net, it was almost 20 baud! Wow, technology
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at its finest. :) I also noticed that at least 2 people were running
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ethernet sniffers, so I decided that it would not be prudent to
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mess with the net there, even if the bandwidth dramatically increased.
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Also in the barn were a tv/vcr area, several couches, a merchandise
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area and a snack bar. The snack bar sold rolls for a buck, and had free
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sandwich makings (like pb & j, cheese & meat, etc..) chips, jolt, and
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beer. This was very important to me since I was wondering if I'd
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get to eat.
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There was to be some kind of food provided (a meal) for five bucks, but
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it was so foul that it could not be believed. And to top it all off
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it was vegetarian. Not just regular vegetarian, but totally off beat
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stuff that smelled like old socks. Nasty gruel unfit for even
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prisoners.
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Behind the barn was the camping area. There was a HUGE tent
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that was the main meeting area, and several mid-size tents.
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Additionally there was a large lookout tower, and a shitload of
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tents set up for sleeping. Running all over the campground were cables
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for the conference's LAN.
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It was impressive so say the least.
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One of the first people I ran into at the con was KCrow. He helped me
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try to find a safe place to stow some of my crap. (Again, me and my
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fucking bags. I'm such an asshole.) We tried to place them in
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the network control room, but Bill SF told me to "get the hell out
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of there," so I did. And this of course, has left me with a wonderful
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opinion about Bill SF. (Bill, I love ya!) Several people tried to
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make excuses in his behalf such as "he hadn't slept in days," or
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"Bill isn't ever so rude," and "He's got a lot on his mind."
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Yeah, right.
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(And I didn't even say ANYTHING about how shitty it would be to try to
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make millions counterfeiting something, then let one of your friends take
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the fall for you, while you left the country. Nope. I would never be so
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rude. There is a difference between a true hacker and an opportunistic
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technologically literate criminal. But I didn't say that.)
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I finally just stuck my stuff behind the merchandising area and prayed
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that there was still honor among thieves.
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I then ran into Damiano. He told me who was around. Several CCC people
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had arrived in a convoy of odd urban assault vehicles. The Germans
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(other than Damiano) kind of made me uneasy. They seemed to hang
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together and didn't talk to many non-germans. I suppose maybe some
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of them didn't speak English, or maybe I was just thinking odd
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Nazi fantasies. I dunno. Of all the people that were supposedly
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there, I kept missing Pengo. It was like some kind of weird trick.
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"Did you see him? He was just here." I never saw him.
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That afternoon I only made it to one "workshop." I was to find out
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later that all of the really technical workshops had a common thread.
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"Here's this cool technology, now go buy it from Hack-Tic for several
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hundred dollars."
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The first example I had of this was in the "It came out of the sky"
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workshop where Bill SF talked about a device they had made that
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received pager information. They presented a few scenarios in which
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police or other nasties might watch pagers, or always page certain numbers
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right before raids, etc...
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The concept was neat, but certainly nothing new. For a few bucks more
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than they were asking for the Hack-Tic model, you can buy a multimode
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decoder from Universal Radio (model M-400). It not only does POCSAG but
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also GOLAY (for pagers), ACARS, ASCII, Baudot, SITOR A & B, FEC-A, SWED-ARQ,
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FAX, CTSS, DCS & DTMF! Now that's a decoder.
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Additionally, a company called SWS security makes a similar device for
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law enforcement people at about $4,000 that does nothing but decode
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pager information.
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If it came right down to it, all you would have to do is open up your beeper,
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dump the rom, and tell it to display info for ALL cap-codes rather than
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just yours. Your cap-code is written on the back of your beeper, and is
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stored in non-volatile memory somewhere. Look for the call to it, and have
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it always branch to the display routine rather than do a comparison.
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I asked Bill about re-crystaling the device, since it there's would only be
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able to pick up one pager channel as is, and about whether or not anyone had
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played with any of the 8-bit paging types such as is used in America on
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services such as EMBARC. Bill looked at me as if I was on crack, and
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asked, "Are there any other questions?" Sigh.
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After that workshop, I took off with Andy of the Chaos Computer Club
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back to the German enclave. These guys were nuts. They had several
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winnebagoes totally decked out with all kinds of archaic electronic
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gear. They had all kinds of odd radio equipment; weird shit
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with Russian lettering was strewn about. The guys hanging about
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were jamming out really loud hard techno. I leeched a few programs
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from Andy and then took off back to the main area.
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Sometime later, a guy who said he knew me from way back named
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Mr. Miracle came up to say hello. I had no idea, but since I rarely
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remember my own name, I took him for his word. Mr. Miracle was at the
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con with his friends Wim and a Tasmanian Amiga Dude named XTC.
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We hung out the rest of the afternoon bullshitting and talking about
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all kinds of stupid things.
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As it grew dark, everyone moved into the Barn. Me, Carl, Mr. Miracle, XTC,
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Wim, and another Dutch Hacker named The Dude sat down to drink. We were
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joined for a bit by another Dutchman named The Key. He was totally
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into lock picking, and had a plethora of picks. (Car masters, traditional
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rakes, tube lock picks, and a weird looking pick for all new model fords.)
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The Key was a large, sinister looking guy who never took off his extremely
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dark sunglasses. I don't know if it was only for effect, but it certainly
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worked.
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I decided it was high time to introduce the Dutch to that quaint American
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custom, Quarters. We must have gone through some 200 glasses of beer, and
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were extremely loud, drunk and obnoxious. One woman (I think it was a woman)
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wandered over to us and said, shouldn't you all be on the computers or
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something. We cursed until she left.
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Mr. Miracle invited Carl and I to stay at his place for the rest of the con
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so we wouldn't have to go all the way back to our hotel. This was a godsend.
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We all piled into The Dude's car for a ride to the apartment that made
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Busch Garden's "Kumba" look like a merry-go-round. We were quite happy
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to make it home alive.
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Xtc was also staying at Mr. Miracle's. We all spilled onto the floor
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upstairs in his townhouse. While we were all getting ready to pass out,
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Xtc yakked all over a bathroom. Needless to say Mr. Miracle and
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his girlfriend were pissed. We all thought there was going to be a death,
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but somehow Xtc lucked out.
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The next morning we all took off over to check out of the Hotel
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Carl and I had rented. Carl had put some money in their safe.
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Of course, the safe broke, and it took them nearly an hour to destroy
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the safe completely so Carl could retrieve his 300 in traveller's checks.
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Mr. Miracle remarked, "Where's The Key when you need him."
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When we finally ended up back at the con, there was a large meeting
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going on about Phone Phreaking. Emmanuel Goldstein, Bill SF, Rop,
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KCrow (KCROW??) and others were babbling on the panel. Phiber Optik was
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on a speaker phone adding commentary. I toyed with the idea of getting
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on the phone and wishing him well and telling him how cool it was in Holland,
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but I decided that would be too mean.
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I sat outside the panel listening to everyone complain about the evils
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of the phone company. Many got up and argued that what they were doing
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was morally right, because the phone company charges too much. They also
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argued that since the lines were already there they should be able to use
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them for free. I got disgusted and began yelling about how there were
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chairs in the tent not being used and I wanted my hundred guilders back.
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Several people gathered around and I kept ranting. Mr. Miracle joined
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in on the spree and began challenging just how much Hack-Tic was
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making off of the conference. He estimated at minimum 500 people
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at 100 guilders a piece. 50000 guilders. That's a lot of money.
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The crowd gathering around us began questioning the whole situation too.
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It got ugly, but none of us had the balls to say anything about it.
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Later that day I sat down to hear Fidelio and RGB give a talk about
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Unix Security. I had asked them beforehand if they were going to talk
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about anything that I wouldn't know. (God, afterwards, I realized
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just how snotty that sounded. I'm a prick.) It went pretty good
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since most of the people in the crowd weren't gurus and this gave
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them a good overview.
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Afterwards, Bill SF was holding a workshop about Wireless LANs. I was
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thinking this would be a tutorial about wireless lan theory and
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how their security was handled, etc. WRONG! Hack-Tic is supposedly
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building a frequency hopping wireless ethernet adaptor. (Soon to
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be available at a store near you.)
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I asked Bill why they went with frequency hopping rather than
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direct sequence. There are basically two schools of thought about
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spread spectrum, and both have their plusses. Bill said
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their device would be hard to jam. I replied that if I pumped
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as little as 1 watt over a particular range, maybe like a 15 Mhz
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range, their device would be just as hosed as anyone else's.
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As an afterthought, I hope they build it in the 2.4GHz range, because
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that's the only frequency block that is legal everywhere for
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this type of application.
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Sometime later Bill SF was to give a phone phreaking tutorial. He trudged
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off in the woods to hold a secret workshop. Unfortunately, I wasn't
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among the privileged audience members, but I hear rumors that the
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Demon Dialer is available for sale. Sigh.
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I have no idea what I did for the next few hours. I think I was
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abducted by aliens. The final panel of the evening was a
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social engineering panel being led by The Dude. Let's just say that
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a European idea of what to use your bullshitting skills for is
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a little bit different than that of your American hacker.
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The Dude offered advice like "Say you are with the news or a tv star and
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maybe they will give you a guest account," or "Once I called up and said I
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was doing a story, and they told me information about their computers."
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WOW! Pretty radical stuff. I remember a certain boy holding up a 7-11 by
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phone. I remember someone turning my phone into a payphone by bullshitting
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an idiot at the switch. I remember people getting root passwords from
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system admins by social engineering. Where were Chasin, RNOC & Supernigger
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when you needed them? These are the true greats. I don't know what these
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people at HEU were all excited about, but they all loved it. Ahhh,
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ignorance IS bliss.
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After dark for some reason we were all drawn once again to the quarters
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table. It was brutal. They ran out of glasses. We made pyramids with
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the empties. We played chandeliers. We belched, we hollered, we were
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manly men doing manly things, and we mocked those playing computer
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games just a few yards away. We laughed at them with manly laughs.
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And I don't think anyone threw up that night.
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We got a ride home that night from The Key. He never took off his glasses.
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There are no lights along the highways in Holland. Luckily I was
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drunk, or I would have been scared shitless.
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The final day of the conference we arrived in time to see the "hacking and
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the law" panel. Emmanuel Goldstein, RGB, Rop, Ray Kaplan, Wietse Venema,
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Andy from the CCC, a Dutch CERT guy and a few others were on the panel.
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It started very well but went sour quickly. It was supposedly being moderated
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by this asshole of a journalist who apparently didn't understand what it
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meant to moderate. He would answer EVERY question addressed to the
|
||
panel, whether or not he even knew what the question was about.
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This shithead gave journalists a bad name. Finally this guy got so
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annoying that I finally got up and left.
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We decided not to hang out for the party at the end of time. We figured
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that the party would be much more fun in Amsterdam, so we cut out. It
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was time to get into the city and cause problems.
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EB's Handy Travelling Tip #5: Don't buy drugs in other countries.
|
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Drugs are illegal in Holland, despite what everyone says. Despite this
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fact, they are plentiful and every swinging dick on the street has
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a few pills or joints to sell you. Now the way I looked at it,
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why in the world would you go a zillion miles away to see another
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country and spend your time wasted?
|
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It reminded me of walking in the Height after dark, or going down
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||
the Drag in Austin a few years back. Every three steps we took in
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||
Amsterdam, some joker would run up and say, "You want good smoke?
|
||
Ecstasy? Cocaine? You want good coke? How about some good hashish?"
|
||
I should have asked for DMT, but I just blew everyone off.
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||
|
||
On top of all this, there are like 5 or so bars in Amsterdam that
|
||
actually sell hash in the bar. They are very easy to spot. They are
|
||
the ones with the pot plants in the window and the tell tale dope smell
|
||
permeating every pore of your body when you walk past. The big ones
|
||
are the Bulldog and High Times. Save your money for better things,
|
||
like t-shirts or smut.
|
||
|
||
At the con, several people were selling "Space Cakes" which were essentially
|
||
hash brownies. If you've never eaten dope, you might not like it. It
|
||
comes on slower, lasts longer, and generally puts you to sleep. This was
|
||
not what I'd want at a Hacker Con. We needed stimulants, damnit! I
|
||
drank lots of jolt instead.
|
||
|
||
EB's Handy Travelling Tip #6: Go to the Red Light District in Amsterdam.
|
||
|
||
Even if you are too cheap (or too moral) to shell out the 25 bucks, you
|
||
should go check out the Red Light District. Be forewarned, all those
|
||
people who tell you that the women are all "so fine" are either fucked up
|
||
or have bad taste.
|
||
|
||
In the Red Light area the women hang out behind windows in their underwear
|
||
and try to coerce you into sleeping with them by taunting you, flashing you,
|
||
or making other sexual innuendoes.
|
||
|
||
Unfortunately, the vast majority of these "women" look like out-takes from
|
||
"The Crying Game." We are talking adam's apples and big hands here. Large
|
||
boned Asian creatures that scared the shit out of me. These things were
|
||
NASTY.
|
||
|
||
Mr. Miracle, Wim and I must have walked around for an hour looking for
|
||
decent women. Finally we came across two. TWO. Out of hundreds, there
|
||
were two. One was a tall blonde in her twenties. One was a short, tan
|
||
brunette who looked, uh, young.
|
||
|
||
17:10. I'll spare you the details. Let your imaginations run free.
|
||
|
||
EB's Handy Travelling Tip #7: There's no place like home.
|
||
|
||
I was very happy to hop on that plane back to the USA. As much as I hate
|
||
to admit it, I really wouldn't know what to do with myself if I didn't
|
||
live in America.
|
||
|
||
Maybe an England or Australia trip would have been totally different. It
|
||
really sucked not being able to speak the language. I also got real
|
||
tired of trying to find food I could eat. [I gave up red meat almost a
|
||
year ago, and Europeans LOVE THEIR MEAT. Trying to find chicken was
|
||
a nightmare. The Dutch word for chicken is KIP. Remember that.]
|
||
|
||
The TV sucked, there weren't really any good places for live music,
|
||
the women weren't interested in a scummed-out, long-haired American
|
||
tourist and I missed my cat. I met some really cool people and
|
||
had a blast for the week I was there, but I was real happy to land
|
||
in the USA.
|
||
|
||
*Epilogue*
|
||
|
||
EB's Handy Travelling Tip #8: If you think customs is going to search you
|
||
they won't.
|
||
|
||
Me, being stupid, left all my good smut in the Netherlands because I was
|
||
afraid I'd get arrested for it. I envisioned the conversation. "What are
|
||
you doing with all these nasty things, boy? You are one sick fucker!
|
||
Lookie here Bob, this here hippy has pictures of gals a pissin' on one
|
||
'nuther." So what happens? They smile and wave me through. Fuck.
|
||
|
||
*******************************************************************************
|
||
|
||
Hacking at the End of the Universe
|
||
by Nimrod Kerrett, zzzen@math.tau.ac.il
|
||
|
||
"A Techno-Anarchist Convention" -- August 3-6, Larserbos, HOLLAND.
|
||
The announcement in Computer Underground Digest committed its viral act,
|
||
erasing all the neatly ordered schedule entries for the first week of
|
||
August from my old, grey memory cells, to be replaced by a neon light
|
||
flashing "You deserve a vacation in Holland." Away we went...
|
||
|
||
Most of us European/Third-World dwellers don't get to see much of the
|
||
physical manifestations of Gibson's self-executing prophecies. OK. The
|
||
Matrix is there, but to witness street-culture one must live in San
|
||
Francisco or somesuch. HEU -- Hacking at the End of the Universe -- looked
|
||
like the only chance to surface on the physical side of a phone plug and
|
||
experience cyber-culture in form of faces, fashion and body-lang. How naive
|
||
I was to presume this. Compared to most of the kids there, I looked
|
||
dangerous (a timid, Swiss-bank sysadmin)... But don't get me wrong, I DID
|
||
have fun -- failing to do so in Holland requires quite a unique
|
||
body-chemistry -- but I had a nagging feeling that European hackers still
|
||
live in the Seventies.
|
||
|
||
First, A Few Positive Notes
|
||
|
||
The most important lecture addressed electronic money. I won't go into
|
||
sci.crypt-style details, but this was the most exciting thing I've ever
|
||
heard since public-keys were first explained to me. The president of a
|
||
Dutch firm called DigiCash described a crypto scheme where a bank can issue
|
||
electronic credit-certificates which can't be forged, and yet are immune to
|
||
traffic analysis. Their digital cash is just like physpace cash: it has no
|
||
smell. You get a "virtual $100 bill" from the bank that you can't forge or
|
||
spend more than once, and which the bank can't trace -- e.g. to the
|
||
specific person who requested it.
|
||
|
||
Ever since society devolved from cash to credit cards, people have become
|
||
used to the idea that our shopping-histories are readily subject to
|
||
electronic surveillance. At HEU I learned this was all hype: we CAN evolve
|
||
economic systems to enjoy advantages of digital communication without
|
||
sacrificing our privacy.
|
||
|
||
Another interesting issue was a lecture by an ex-CIA executive who went
|
||
private [ed. note: positively identified as a net.personality on the WELL]
|
||
and now tries to preach for open-source approaches: instead of creating
|
||
your own locks and picking the ones of your neighbor, the idea is to use
|
||
information-gathering/analysis techniques -- one of those things in which
|
||
"intelligence" bodies specialize -- to derive content from the info-swamp
|
||
we seem to be sucked into... and then sell it. This guy made arguments
|
||
similar to what Barlow said before the hush-hush community a few months
|
||
ago, but seems to refocus everything on enterprise. Mighty exciting. BTW,
|
||
I've noticed how the concept of profit makes bleeding-heart European
|
||
anarchist types wince...
|
||
|
||
The network built onsite also impressed me. In a campground setting,
|
||
subject to occasional rainstorms, they erected three LANS connecting nearly
|
||
100 computers of all sizes and shapes, plus terminal servers for the
|
||
Etherless. Computers were placed in our private tents, and the field
|
||
bloomed with PC/XTs-turned-repeaters covered in wet plastic sheets. This
|
||
monstrosity connected to the Internet over three shaky SLIP dial-up lines
|
||
and it actually WORKED -- it cost some sleepless 36 hours, but still, WOW.
|
||
|
||
Switch To Poison Ink
|
||
|
||
Hacker (n) -- (1) One who derives pleasure from making systems do things
|
||
they're not supposed to do. (2) A nerd who does word-processing in
|
||
hexadecimal, is allergic to color or windows and hates being called a
|
||
"user" in ANY context.
|
||
|
||
Most of the hackers I met at HEU fell under the second definition. I was
|
||
even scolded for using "Wintendo" and wasting the precious power of my 486
|
||
notebook. Let's start with the local network -- having all the tents
|
||
connected was a wonderful idea, and symbolized constructive techno-anarchy.
|
||
Unfortunately it lacked cultural content. To begin with, you had to login
|
||
as a guest -- if you'd figured out the IP number of a server working at the
|
||
moment. You had no identity handle, so there was no use in talking about
|
||
site-specific newsgroup for follow-ups on topics. Even local email was
|
||
impossible; to whom would you email? Since everyone got a badge on
|
||
entrance, why didn't we also receive user-ids, perhaps written on the
|
||
badges? Even administrative announcements (e.g. schedule changes) were only
|
||
available on a PHYSICAL bulletin-board in the bar... ever tried to scan
|
||
manually over 200 paper scraps?
|
||
|
||
Another side effect was that to justify dragging your portable all the way
|
||
to Holland, you just HAD to hog the SLIP lines and telnet outside, which
|
||
made life hard for all of us, but much harder for the networking crew. In
|
||
my humble opinion, excessive telneting is like saying "Nothing to do here,
|
||
let's try somewhere else." I LIVE somewhere else; I took a plane in order
|
||
to check out THIS place. Telneting was also a problem since the
|
||
IP-resolving system didn't work and we had to apply hacking techniques to
|
||
find the IP numbers back home.
|
||
|
||
The most frustrating thing was the social/political discussions. In a
|
||
discussion titled "Networking For The Masses" someone dared suggest
|
||
user-friendliness as a key to resolving computer illiteracy. "No shit,
|
||
Sherlock" -- I hear you mumble. Well, here's how another panel-member
|
||
replied: "A revolution is not a user-friendly thing. Activists shouldn't
|
||
count on the computer community to make stuff easier for them". Watch out,
|
||
masses... prepare for computer military-training once the Revolution is
|
||
over.
|
||
|
||
Let's take another trendy political subject -- cryptography. One would
|
||
assume that any techno-anarchist convention in '93 would feature a nice
|
||
level of heated, political, crypto-discussion. Well, nada. The only
|
||
crypto-related subject was the "electronic cash" mentioned above. Although
|
||
it's quite exciting for the crypto-enlightened, 90% of the HEU audience
|
||
lost contact after the first three cube-roots, returning to their tents to
|
||
telnet elsewhere. I was left in a small group of highly-technical
|
||
Cypherpunks who didn't give a fork whether New Delhi housewives would ever
|
||
understand the switches of PGP; they seem to ENJOY their wizardly "elite"
|
||
status.
|
||
|
||
Even in discussions about hacker-paranoia, the audience disliked the idea
|
||
of demystifiyng the almighty-hacker image to make your average,
|
||
trigger-happy policeman relax a bit. Does Europe need an equivalent of
|
||
USA's "Operation Sun-Devil" to knock sense into its collective skulls? FTP
|
||
to ftp.eff.org:/pub/cud/papers/crime.puzzle to learn from the bitter
|
||
experience of others (I don't know the IP number!).
|
||
|
||
Epi-Travel-Log
|
||
|
||
Before the convention, I naively believed that at least the HACKERS could
|
||
Read the Writing on the Wall... Since I'm sober now, I'll spell it out for
|
||
you:
|
||
|
||
When the world finally adopts strong public-key cryptography (I hope it
|
||
does, since I've seen too many wars and acts of human-rights
|
||
infringement in my life), two things will become virtually impossible: 1)
|
||
seeing what you're not supposed to see; and 2) changing what you're not
|
||
supposed to change, unless you want to cause brute-force damage.
|
||
|
||
These two anachronistic activities represent the basis for most
|
||
hacker-culture I encountered at HEU -- so my advice is: switch to the first
|
||
dictionary-definition of "Hacker". Try being less techno and more
|
||
anarchist. There's a revolution going on... in case you've missed out on
|
||
some Usenet recently.
|
||
|
||
----
|
||
Reprinted from Fringe Ware Review #2, ISSN 1069-5656.
|
||
Published by FringeWare Inc., fringeware@illuminati.io.com
|
||
Copyright (C)1993, Nimrod Kerrett. All rights reserved.
|
||
|
||
*******************************************************************************
|
||
|
||
Hackers Play The Field July 26, 1993
|
||
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
||
(Newsweek) (Page 58)
|
||
|
||
[A Newsweek reporter packs for, and dreams about, HEU in the Netherlands.
|
||
As you can tell, it was written before the actual con]
|
||
|
||
There's no guarantee of a large turn-out, but if thousands show up, it may
|
||
help demonstrate how far hacking has moved out of the bedrooms of smelly
|
||
adolescents. If so, there's likely to be less geeking and more dancing in
|
||
the Dutch summer night. Programmers may one day be able to lean back from
|
||
their terminals, pat their pocket protectors and say, "I was there."
|
||
|
||
*******************************************************************************
|
||
|
||
A Woodstock For Hackers and Phreaks August 16, 1993
|
||
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
||
by Barbara Kantrowitz and Joshua Ramo
|
||
|
||
It was billed as "Woodstock for the Nintendo Generation" The techno-freaks
|
||
who gathered at the Hackers at the End of the Universe in the Netherlands
|
||
last week had at lease one thing in common with their '60s counterparts:
|
||
they believed rules were made to be broken.
|
||
|
||
Some were there only electronically, communicating through networks around the
|
||
world. The rest--the vast majority of them males in their late teens and
|
||
early 20s--gathered in hundreds of multicolored tents clustered around
|
||
power outlets and portable toilets in an area the size of six football fields.
|
||
Many had computer terminals in their tents, with the monitors nestled
|
||
between sleeping bags and guitars.
|
||
|
||
No one was surprised by the white van bristling with antennas that trolled
|
||
up and down the road leading to the campground. Everyone seemed to agree
|
||
that it belonged to the Dutch Secret Service; everyone also assumed the
|
||
meeting was being monitored by the CIA and Britain's MI6. But no one
|
||
knew for sure; paranoia is popular among hackers.
|
||
|
||
*******************************************************************************
|
||
|
||
Pump Con 94
|
||
|
||
"The Legacy Continues"
|
||
|
||
by Erik Bloodaxe
|
||
|
||
|
||
Travelling sucks most of the time. People like to glamorize it as if
|
||
it's some kind of status unobtainable to the "Average Joe" but
|
||
nine times out of ten its just a pain in the ass.
|
||
|
||
My trip to Philadelphia for the second PumpCon fell well within the
|
||
aforementioned nine of ten. I was sick as a dog, coughing up
|
||
large blood-soaked clots of phlegm at a steady pace. This was
|
||
either due to some undetected immune system failure or due to my
|
||
previous weekend's fiasco which dealt with chemical overindulgence,
|
||
alcohol abuse and some kind of strange creatures that tried to pass
|
||
as female...but that's another story.
|
||
|
||
(We will assume that my ill-health stemmed from the latter.)
|
||
|
||
I showed up at the Comfort Inn to find a lobby full of what had to be
|
||
conferees. (They had been saying to many people they were "Campus
|
||
Crusaders for Christ.")
|
||
|
||
After checking in I stumbled over to the group to see who was who.
|
||
I introduced myself and asked if Dr. Who or Mark Tabas had showed up.
|
||
They had not. (And as it turns out, they would never show up. Dr. Who
|
||
I can forgive since he had no way in from Boston, but Tabas...obviously
|
||
he had better things to do than drive a few miles across town to say
|
||
hello. Remind me to reciprocate at HoHo Con.)
|
||
|
||
I was immediately pulled away by GrayAreas and Ophie, who both bestowed
|
||
upon me warnings of impending doom. Ophie relayed that The Wing had
|
||
told her the previous night that he was going to come to the con and
|
||
"get me."
|
||
|
||
GrayAreas informed me that an unscrupulous character had been
|
||
asking for me earlier. After she described him, it was obvious that
|
||
Rogue Agent had made it to the con. (Unscrupulous...haha)
|
||
|
||
Up in my room, I dove into my bag of medical goods and felt pity upon
|
||
myself. Congested, contagious, feverish and now being stalked by
|
||
some unknown person. Great. I never much paid any heed to the threats
|
||
given by unknown typists over the net, as people's bravado multiplies
|
||
exponentially in direct proportion to the distance they are separated
|
||
behind a phone or computer screen. During the week prior to the con
|
||
I had been threatened by at least 2 different people under a variety of
|
||
nicks and addresses. One promised to crack me over the head with a bat.
|
||
|
||
I figured with my luck, being sick, this would be the ONE time someone
|
||
would make good on such a promise, as my timing and coordination would
|
||
obviously be impaired. Swell.
|
||
|
||
I went on back downstairs to jump in the conversations in the lobby. The
|
||
group had grown a bit in my absence. I sat down and began talking to
|
||
Shortwave & C-Curve about ham radio and archaic computer equipment.
|
||
Shortwave offered to send me a Commodore PET to add to the Erik Bloodaxe
|
||
Memorial Computer Archive. (The EBMCA is a non-profit organization
|
||
devoted to maintaining the history of personal computing. Our museum
|
||
will open soon. Hold your breath!)
|
||
|
||
I then noticed that it appeared that damn near every IRC denizen from the
|
||
Washington DC area was at this damn con. (sans KL & Strat, but they
|
||
were to appear the following day.) A bunch of us took off wandering around
|
||
later on to see what the hell was up at some of the other hotels.
|
||
The area was laid out in such a manner that there were like five hotels
|
||
immediately next door to one another with two cheesy restaurants between
|
||
them.
|
||
|
||
We took off to the Knights Inn and ended up hanging out in the parking
|
||
lot staring at the moon, bullshitting about really lame stuff. While
|
||
hanging out like retards in the near freezing winds, Dark Tangent came
|
||
over and told us that Zar had been thrown off a bus for the 2nd time
|
||
and was stuck in DC and needed someone to pick him up. No one wanted to
|
||
road trip it to DC since we were all having SOOO much fun freezing our
|
||
asses off, so Zar had to wait it out for the next bus.
|
||
|
||
In one room in the Knights Inn a bunch of people were busily smoking
|
||
their brains out. Their little gathering was dubbed "Hemp-Con."
|
||
|
||
Finally, sanity rested upon me and I decided that the cold would not
|
||
help nurse me back to health, so I took off back to my room. Ophie was
|
||
in the room next door to mine with a bunch of people drinking. Well,
|
||
I think Ophie was doing most of the drinking actually. :)
|
||
|
||
I wandered in and gave her a hard time about being drunk. She responded
|
||
by telling everyone in the room intimate details about her marriage
|
||
and her sexual involvement with the entire DC hacker scene. Then she
|
||
took off all her clothes and ran around throwing Miniature chocolate
|
||
bars at everyone. I'm making this up, but she probably wouldn't remember.
|
||
it anyway. Hehe.
|
||
|
||
As I went to open my door I noticed that someone had written "DIE NARC"
|
||
on it with a cigarette. On the floor was the cigarette, a Camel filterless.
|
||
Well, it appeared that The Wing had arrived. [Oh frabjuous day. Calloo,
|
||
Callay. I chortled in my joy.]
|
||
|
||
Just as I was about to go to bed, people were banging on my door. When I
|
||
opened it, it looked as if everyone from Ophie's room had staggered over
|
||
for a visit. One guy in the back, kinda tall, kinda thin, wearing a purple
|
||
shirt, was smoking a Camel stub. I smiled a him and said, "How's it going?"
|
||
He seemed a bit put off but said, "Do you know who I am?" I replied, "Of
|
||
course I do Alan, how's it going?"
|
||
|
||
This seemed to piss him off for some reason.
|
||
|
||
"You might be all happy tonight, but just wait until tomorrow," he said.
|
||
|
||
"Oh?" I replied, "you got something in store for me? Cool. Could you
|
||
play those Ken Shulman tapes for the con?"
|
||
|
||
(For those of you who don't know, once upon a time, I had a little company
|
||
called Comsec. One of my partners was Ken Shulman, a rather complex
|
||
new money piece of @#!*. Well, things didn't work out with us and Ken
|
||
for a number of reasons, so we fired him. Ken got mad at us. He tried to
|
||
fuck over each of us in devious little ways. To get even, I gave his
|
||
private number out to MOD via the MOD information conduit Renegade Hacker.
|
||
One day, "little shulow" was called up by Wing and Corrupt. According to
|
||
several people, this call was recorded by MOD. On this now legendary
|
||
tape, allegedly a disgruntled Shulman proceeded to tell MOD the story
|
||
of how we at Comsec were involved in crimes, drugs and were turning in
|
||
everyone to the feds. This is the same Ken Shulman who lost his BMW to the
|
||
Houston Police when it was found with 400 hits of X in the trunk, and went
|
||
into seclusion. But I digress. I've been trying to get a copy of this
|
||
tape for about two years to see if he said anything actionable about
|
||
Comsec, and to it give to the FBI if he may have been interfering with
|
||
an ongoing federal investigation. Yes, I do hate him.)
|
||
|
||
This seemed to make Wing mad too. I guess I might have spoiled the surprise
|
||
or something. "I'm not gonna play any tapes so you can sue Shulman."
|
||
|
||
"Oh, that's too bad." I said.
|
||
|
||
"Well, I just want you to know, that tomorrow when it happens, you'll know,"
|
||
he said.
|
||
|
||
"Well, I guess we'll just wait till tomorrow then."
|
||
|
||
"Yeah, we will."
|
||
|
||
"Yup. I guess we will."
|
||
|
||
"You think you're so cool, but YOU'RE A DICK!" he screamed.
|
||
|
||
Oh great, this is where I get punched. "Well, it's nice you have
|
||
your opinions."
|
||
|
||
"YOU'RE A FUCKING DICK!"
|
||
|
||
Maybe I was supposed to be the one getting mad and doing the punching
|
||
but I wasn't getting anything but tired and was ready to take a shitload
|
||
of aspirin and slam a bottle of night-time cold syrup and antibiotics.
|
||
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow."
|
||
|
||
By now, I guess everyone had figured out that there would be no
|
||
bloodsport, so someone grabbed Wing and they left. Ophie yelled
|
||
after him, "Some people are such assholes."
|
||
|
||
"Well, wasn't that fun," I said to those still hanging around. "But,
|
||
alas, time for me to get some sleep." I went down to bum some
|
||
aspirin from Noelle and told her the sordid tale, then went back to my room
|
||
and crashed out.
|
||
|
||
AND THAT'S THE INFAMOUS ERIKB vs THE WING STORY. AREN'T YOU EXCITED?
|
||
|
||
That night, VaxBuster and others tried to get in the electrical box, but
|
||
were thwarted by a concerned citizen. "I'M GOING DOWN TO THE FRONT DESK
|
||
RIGHT NOW!"
|
||
|
||
Meanwhile, Sabre sat in the cold all night drinking himself into oblivion
|
||
while keeping a sharp, albeit bloodshot, eye out for potential feds.
|
||
|
||
The next day everyone congregated in a room at the Red Roof Inn that had
|
||
been rented as the Conference Room. (How crafty, we'll have it in a
|
||
hotel room, and SAY its a conference room.)
|
||
|
||
Everyone piled into this room anxious for everything to begin. We waited.
|
||
And waited. And waited. Several newcomers had arrived such as Strat and
|
||
his woman, Dr. Freeze (who used to be the Wizard 703 of rolodex fame.
|
||
Keep on Phreakin!), and Zar who had arranged to get kicked off of his
|
||
3rd bus right near the hotel by slamming a 40 and lighting up
|
||
cigarettes right next to the bus driver.
|
||
|
||
Finally, after about 7 hours, I figured that maybe I should just go
|
||
say something. I hopped up and gave a quick and dirty overview of
|
||
commercial packet radio technology. I talked briefly about RadioMail
|
||
and CDPD, and also talked about EMBARC and demonstrated sucking messages
|
||
out of a Newstream pager. Then I sent a message from my notebook from ARDIS
|
||
to a Sprintnet gateway, thru an outdial to a dialup to a terminal server
|
||
on the Internet, and from one account mailed myself at RadioMail
|
||
which then sent it back to me on my HP95 over RAM. I dunno...I thought
|
||
it was cool.
|
||
|
||
After speaking, I was presented with an award: an empty porno video box.
|
||
The buttheads didn't even have the decency to give me the tape!
|
||
I put the bible in it instead and placed it back in a drawer.
|
||
|
||
GreyAreas got up next and talked a bit about her magazine and then
|
||
in a heartfelt plea, asked whoever was bothering her to stop.
|
||
Many in the audience seemed indifferent to her cause, which upset
|
||
her greatly. She had to leave immediately afterwards. I hope I
|
||
wasn't the only person who felt kind of sorry for her.
|
||
|
||
Now, I'm not one to rain on anyone's parade, but kids, fun and games
|
||
on the net are one thing, but the minute you start fucking with people's
|
||
businesses they will go to the FBI. Remember this. [Personally,
|
||
I think there are about 4 or 5 specific people on the net who need to
|
||
fucking grow up before they find themselves sharing a cell with Phiber,
|
||
although that seems to be what they want.]
|
||
|
||
To be fair, people who decide that they want to get on the net need to
|
||
be reminded that THE NET IS NOT REAL! THE NET IS NOT REAL LIFE. IF
|
||
THE NET SCARES YOU OR WORRIES YOU, TURN OFF THE FUCKING COMPUTER! GO
|
||
HANG OUT ON ANOTHER CHANNEL! GO PLAY ON A MUD! GO READ NEWS! If that
|
||
doesn't placate you, go to AOL.
|
||
|
||
Next up was someone I didn't know, and unfortunately didn't meet.
|
||
But his girlfriend was HOT! [If he's reading this, tell her I said "hi."]
|
||
|
||
He gave everyone a rundown of the troubles from last year's Pumpcon.
|
||
I noticed during his recap that the trouble last year didn't really start
|
||
until they all read The Visionary's file. I suggested that we hold
|
||
a midnight seance and read it aloud so we could all get busted too.
|
||
|
||
Ixom finally made it to his own con and said a few syllables about
|
||
the folks still waiting to be sentenced from last year.
|
||
|
||
Up last was VaxBuster who talked about the wonderful world of Blue
|
||
Boxing. Yes, Virginia, there is a way to box. People are so silly.
|
||
Obviously I'm not the only one who has looked at CCITT manuals and
|
||
knows signalling frequencies in other countries, or who knows about
|
||
the "International Direct" numbers. Wow.
|
||
|
||
After the conference several of us had pizza and got the worst service
|
||
I have ever had in my entire life of dining out. Grand. We made up for
|
||
it by amusing ourselves spotting "victims" with laser pointers, laughing
|
||
like idiots as we placed the dots on their foreheads.
|
||
|
||
Once we got back from chowing, everyone had already begun drinking.
|
||
People were going off to congregate at the conference room for a central
|
||
party location. As I was leaving to go over there, The Wing walked up
|
||
to me, and said he needed to talk to me. We went into my room and
|
||
he said he had heard what GrayAreas said earlier in the day, and he wanted
|
||
to say that it wasn't him. I told him, he needed to tell her that, and
|
||
not me.
|
||
|
||
I went on to tell him that if he wasn't involved in all the crap going on
|
||
all over the net, then I had no problems with him. I said he had some
|
||
really poor choices in friends in the past, but hopefully he would
|
||
exercise better judgement in the future.
|
||
|
||
We all went back over to the conference room. Wing pulled GrayAreas outside
|
||
to talk to her. While they were talking, I caught some talk about
|
||
payphones.
|
||
|
||
[no names from here on]
|
||
|
||
It seems this guy had a lot of phones and several people too off to go
|
||
buy a few. They ended up at the lamest party in Pennsylvania. Four
|
||
people and a keg. The phones allegedly were sold for 75 bucks and
|
||
were still in the box. Brand new.
|
||
|
||
Back at the con, one of the hapless phone buyers decided to take his phone
|
||
up to the conference room to show it off. Once there, everyone giggled
|
||
and gawked over it, and then he took it back down to put it in a car. On the
|
||
way there, a cop grabbed him and arrested him. The cop then searched
|
||
the car he was about to put it in and found some pot and arrested the
|
||
car's owner too and had the car impounded.
|
||
|
||
[anonymous portion ends]
|
||
|
||
Now the cops converged on the conference room and began hounding people
|
||
in there. One wonderful cop discovered my Porno-Bible creation and
|
||
screamed at the crowd, "You heathens! How could you do something like this?
|
||
You people are sick!"
|
||
|
||
Ixom, ready for a fight, began yelling at the chief of police over the phone.
|
||
The police chief told him that maybe he would like for the nice officers
|
||
to bring him downtown to go over his complaints. Ixom decided that
|
||
would not be necessary.
|
||
|
||
After the police interaction, people scattered from the conference room
|
||
back to their individual rooms. No sooner than they got there, the police
|
||
decided to investigate a "few noise complaints" at the Comfort Inn.
|
||
Ophie's room, the Dope Room on the 1st floor and a few others got searched.
|
||
|
||
While all of this mayhem was ensuing in the outside world, I was up in my
|
||
little room being interviewed by GrayAreas for her magazine. This was
|
||
probably the longest interview I've ever done. I hope I don't turn out
|
||
looking like a bigger fuckhead in it than I already am.
|
||
|
||
After the interview, I got the story of all the police interaction from
|
||
the throngs of people who gathered outside my room. A few people
|
||
remarked, "how come YOUR room didn't get searched?" I didn't have an
|
||
answer for that, except maybe because it was paid on a corporate AmEx
|
||
and might not have looked like a "hacker" was in there. (No, it was
|
||
because I work for the government...just ask Agent Steal. Geez.)
|
||
|
||
After this mess I went to bed. Yup.
|
||
|
||
The following morning while waiting to get a table at Denny's, we noticed
|
||
that the old dudes with the beer were going into the "conference room"
|
||
and taking stuff out. A bunch of the crew ran over there to check it
|
||
out and guess what? The old guys weren't just any bunch of drunken
|
||
old dudes, they were the Pennsylvania State Police's Computer Crime
|
||
Division. They had been staking out the conference from the room next
|
||
door and had listened in to everything. Rad. Two years and running.
|
||
Maybe next year the CIA and NSA will want to stake it out too. I can't
|
||
wait.
|
||
|
||
Then I went home.
|
||
|
||
*******************************************************************************
|
||
|
||
- Top 10 things learned at PumpCon -
|
||
- The Wink -
|
||
|
||
10) Hotel's don't like over 40 people in their lobby
|
||
|
||
9) Its not Ma'am, its Doris
|
||
|
||
8) "GrayArea has quite a few gray areas"
|
||
|
||
7) Greyhound hates Zar
|
||
|
||
6) Who needs speakers who show up?
|
||
|
||
5) SnatchBuster !
|
||
|
||
4) "You heathens, how can you put the Holy Bible in a pornographic
|
||
movie case !"
|
||
|
||
3) Geezer Narc !
|
||
|
||
2) Don't put condor and erikb in the same space
|
||
|
||
1) Don't carry open payphones around the con
|
||
|
||
*******************************************************************************
|
||
|
||
P U M P C O N ][
|
||
|
||
Informal Attendance List
|
||
|
||
<Disclaimer> I cranked this thing out over the weekend, and some people I
|
||
know were there, but I didn't get their names. Some people might be listed
|
||
twice. It's up to you to figure it out.
|
||
|
||
As we were waiting for people to arrive we came up with a lameness scale. If
|
||
you got a "+l" that mean you got a lame point for saying someone's real name
|
||
or info. Basically spouting off real stuff to people who shouldn't hear it.
|
||
Sure it's easy when you all know each other, but if I was really trying I would
|
||
have generated so much real data on people it would be scary. On the other
|
||
hand if you were real slick and tricky, you got a "+e", or elite point. As
|
||
more and more people showed up I stopped doing this 'cuz we all broke up and
|
||
only the people I was around would have to suffer the wrath of the +l. Think
|
||
of it as a security rating. The more +l the easier it was to get info out of
|
||
people.
|
||
|
||
The List is in the order of when I ran into people. Basically the first half
|
||
is in chronological order, but after that I lost track and got names when I
|
||
could.
|
||
|
||
Grayarea
|
||
Noe11e (Yes, she exists)
|
||
Okinawa (+e)
|
||
Reive (assigned to Fed-Man)
|
||
Ophie (+l+l+l+l+l+l.. you get the idea)
|
||
Lgas (+l)
|
||
Loki (+l, but he was trying hard..)
|
||
Jello Man
|
||
Evak
|
||
CarlCory
|
||
SubEthan (+l)
|
||
Bernie S. (+l, Elite handset dude)
|
||
Jamie
|
||
DRobinson
|
||
iXom (5 hours late)
|
||
Nick-O (+e, worked that stewardess)
|
||
FreeJack
|
||
MadCap (With the elite hat)
|
||
Condor
|
||
Jay Farnam
|
||
ShortWave
|
||
ErikB (+e, good speech)
|
||
C-Curve (+e)
|
||
Cuttle Fish
|
||
Vax Buster (+e+e for protecting personal data, Good speech)
|
||
Syntor
|
||
LudiChrist (+l,+e for evading officers)
|
||
Optic Nerve
|
||
Scourge (+l)
|
||
Great One (+l, +e for staying cool at police station)
|
||
Dave (+l+l, Don't use your real name)
|
||
Phil (+l+l, what's this, Real Name con?)
|
||
Juanka (+l This guy was acting strange..)
|
||
Rogue
|
||
NtStriker (+e for being shot by the police)
|
||
Wierdo
|
||
DreamScriber
|
||
Randy S. Hacker (+e for cool car and free beer)
|
||
Count Zero
|
||
Typhoid Mary (She locked onto TaquilaHeadPaint)
|
||
Ragent
|
||
The Wing
|
||
Stranger (+l for believing NtStriker was shot)
|
||
RedAlert
|
||
Zar (+l for getting kicked off three busses)
|
||
Dr. Freeze
|
||
Strat
|
||
Anonymous Caller
|
||
KL (+e for staying at the Knights Inn)
|
||
Mad Dog
|
||
Odd Ball
|
||
Hoog
|
||
Decimator (+l, real name)
|
||
Time Lord (+e, good speech)
|
||
Albatross
|
||
Saber
|
||
Tristan
|
||
Grimm
|
||
Male Havoc
|
||
MrG (+l+l for getting arrested, +e for not narking)
|
||
The Dark Tangent (+l, for making this list) |