我的秘密是。。。

Background Part I

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 15:26:34 GMT

Blah. I'm finding it difficult to get simple things and concepts communicated to people. The most simplistic thing of "Common Sense" actually appears to be lacking in most people. The mere fact that teachers shouldn't say "Fuck this." and "Fuck that." in front of children at the school's lobby shouldn't even be of discussion. Yet, I find myself having to tell even educated people. To inform people of this and be shown disrespect back is even more shocking. I know they have no sense of culture and are rather uncouth in their mind set. I guess it comes from their lack of the outside world and their know it all attitude. Yet, I find myself baby sitting these childish adults who get upset when told to shape up.

I learned in college, that just because you have a degree doesn't mean jack-shit. To me, it's just a piece of paper. Am I speaking out of spite and envy of others? No. I'm a high school drop-out. I got a G.E.D. I graduated from university with honors as a Cum Laude and member of several honor societies. I earned what I got, and am not going to be high and mighty about it.

I used to bitch and whine about my old job. Stress and all. I thank if now for what it has developed in me character wise. It's something I never talk about much or in detail. But oh well, here goes.

I've worked a lot of odd jobs. Firearms happened to be one of my specialties. Drop me a broken one and I can fix most things with it. Down to duplication of a lot of small parts by hand if need be. This rather unique skill of having an eye to detail often found me working for hire. Most of the time I worked with small town farmers appraising private collections and repairing dilapidated pieces of equipment. At the same time, I also found myself making good use of my language skills in my travels.

It was on these travels I found the most money to be made. Being out of borders kind of helped sometimes. Sitting dockside for a crate to be unloaded and examining pieces of equipment I had only imagined seeing before. To be able and touch things that I have only seen pictures of or distance glimpses of in some small museum tucked away on some mundane corner of the world.

Those moments were exciting. Most of those times I worked with a partner. It's easier to keep an eye on things with a person you can trust more than your own girl. At those times, I hated the fact that I usually had to carry a 9mm to work most of the time. I also hated the fact that most of the time I had to check my 9mm at most doors before final price negotiations. Always with hindsight I hated the latter situation more.

Sitting at a table and then having it thrown into the air and flipped isn't exactly the best situation to be in. Scrambling and wheeling back to make sure the table doesn't hit you. With all of this happening, trying to remain on your feet. Being tackled and pinned to the ground. With the highlight of having a 45 to your temple when you regain your orientation.

I am very aware of the diameter differences between a 45 and a 9mm. Just by looking at the barrels or even the rounds, this distinction is quite obvious. Even at a moment like that, one of the thoughts I found time for was something along the lines of, "Damn, a 45 is really that much bigger than a 9mm."

Does life flash before your eyes? I don't know. Things just seemed slower. Does somebody say some cool smart-assed comments? I don't think I did. I just sort of held my tongue. Do both sides pull weapons and have a Mexican stand-off? Nah, one side gets jumped with no time to react.

As things finally calm down, I realized a comment set the other side of. Defusing a tense situation isn't exactly the easiest while I keep reminding myself of the 45's size difference. Yet, things calm down. We eventually all walk away. Final agreements reached and both sides more or less satisfied, albeit a little shaken.

When people complain to me about stress. I let it fall on deaf ears. I know I didn't have the most stressful job, but in perspective whining about other things seems a lot less dignified. Well, I've also learned to keep my cool. Sometimes I just want to pistol whip somebody. Not out of violence, but mainly knock some sense into people..... Don't say fuck in front of children, and then have the balls to chuck something at me when I'm confronting you. Not when I got my back to you.

Work or love....

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 16:27:08 GMT

I am finding that after I have been upped in status, I am spending more and more time at work. As the day turns into night, I look up into the sky. Skateboarding back home... the sandman sitting on my shoulder.

The day turns into night, with my eyelids too heavy to go on. I look forward to the rewards I may have in the next day. Looking forward to being back with her.

The days into nights everyday. She's there waiting, I know it. I tell myself. I get out of work, drop the suit, ditch the tie, hop on my skateboard, and listen intently to my music as I skate into the night.

Watching the stars go by. A dreamworld lined up in my mind as I head back home. On and on, gazing out at the night sky. letting all my problems go. Almost there and in comfort.

Yet, falling out as I get back and the dreamworld vanishes. Another lonely night of she got tired of waiting and has gone. The eye in the sky doesn't lie. It's out watching for all of us and our own dreams. The dawning day shall give way to the new day. On and on life goes.

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 13:51:50 GMT

Dalian, Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Hong Kong, Guilin, Changsha, Chongqing, Wuhan, Xi'an, Beijing. I'm tired of traveling. I just want to sleep. In the Gobi Desert, there are these abandoned compounds. A house, a farm house, an empty pool, and an empty storage room. It was built to be empty. It's a rather pretty place, these little compounds.

They were built by nomads. It's a grave. Their only resting place has everything a traveler ever wanted, but could never have. Oh well. Back on the road tomorrow. No resting place for me yet.

I know....

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 03:12:45 GMT

I know this is quite the norm coming from a person with a non sedentary lifestyle, but I'm up and about for the next week or so. The best way to decide where to travel for me has been a dart thrown at a map tacked to the wall.

List of oddities experienced so far(most of which didn't exactly plan on) and in no particular order:

1- Tibetan sky burial
2- Outrode bandits on horseback
3- Pinned to the ground with a 45 to my temple
4- Brawl with Neo-Nazis
5- Witnessed a-few-too-many clashes with authoritarian governments

Yet, despite all this travel, the girl(s) I've been romantically linked with have never ever travelled with me for one of two reasons; a) they'll slow me down and I end up leaving them behind or b) they're too girly and freak out running in the opposite direction when I end-up holding my ground.

The girl I'm with now, she doesn't walk in front of me expecting me to follow. She doesn't walk behind me expecting me to wait for her. She's unique. She's standing someplace I don't exactly expect a woman to be, right by my side.

Until I'm back, peacing out for now. Pictures when I come back, remember these phrases:

"Pics or it didn't happen!" vs "Tits or get the fuck out!"

Which one is more philosphical?

哦我忘了！我今天得说中文。。。可是我不想说。怎么办？！很多的事情我忘了怎么说。。。很简单的句子都也忘了。。。哈哈

I'm fucked. As my friend says, "Shikata ga nai."

There's something about........

Wed, 24 Jun 2009 15:22:16 GMT

......the way we push.

\/\The Conscience of a Hacker/\/
by
+++The Mentor+++

Written on January 8, 1986
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

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.

+++The Mentor+++

-------------------------------
| The Ethics of Hacking |
-------------------------------
written by Dissident

I went up to a college this summer to look around, see if it was where I wanted to go and whatnot. The guide asked me about my interests, and when I said computers, he started asking me about what systems I had, etc. And when all that was done, the first thing he asked me was "Are you a hacker?"

Well, that question has been bugging me ever since. Just what exactly is a hacker? A REAL hacker? For those who don't know better, the news media (and even comic strips) have blown it way out of proportion... A hacker, by wrong-definition, can be anything from a computer-user to someone who destroys everything they can get their evil terminals into. And the idiotic schmucks of the world who get a Commodore Vic-20 and a 300 baud modem (heh, and a tape drive!) for Christmas haven't helped hackers' reputations a damn bit. They somehow get access to a really cool system and find some files on hacking... Or maybe a friendly but not-too-cautious hacker helps the loser out, gives him a few numbers, etc. The schmuck gets onto a system somewhere, lucks up and gets in to some really cool information or programs, and deletes them. Or some of the more greedy ones capture it, delete it, and try to sell it to Libya or something. Who gets the blame?

The true hackers...that's who. So what is a true hacker? Firstly, some people may not think I am entirely qualified to say, mainly because I don't consider myself a hacker yet. I'm still learning the ropes about it, but I think I have a pretty damn good idea of what a true hacker is. If I'm wrong, let one correct me...

True hackers are intelligent, they have to be. Either they do really great in school because they have nothing better to do, or they don't do so good because school is terribly boring. And the ones who are bored aren't that way because they don't give a shit about learning anything. A true hacker wants to know everything. They're bored because schools teach the same dull things over and over and over, nothing new, nothing challenging. True hackers are curious and patient. If you aren't, how can you work so very hard hacking away at a single system for even one small PEEK at what may be on it? A true hacker DOESN'T get into the system to kill everything or to sell what he gets to someone else. True hackers want to learn, or want to satisfy their curiosity, that's why they get into the system. To search around inside of a place they've never been, to explore all the little nooks and crannies of a world so unlike the boring cess-pool we live in. Why destroy something and take away the pleasure you had from someone else? Why bring down the whole world on the few true hackers who aren't cruising the phone lines with malicious intent? True hackers are disgusted at the way things are in this world. All the wonderful technology of the world costs three arms and four legs to get these days. It costs a fortune to call up a board in an adjoining state! So why pay for it? To borrow something from a file I will name later, why pay for what could be "dirt cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons"? Why be forced, due to lack of the hellacious cash flow it would require to call all the great places, to stay around a bunch of schmuck losers in your home town? Calling out and entering a system you've never seen before are two of the most exhilarating experiences known to man, but it is a pleasure that could not be enjoyed were it not for the ability to phreak...

True hackers are quiet. I don't mean they talk at about .5 dB, I mean they keep their mouths shut and don't brag. The number one killer of those the media would have us call hackers is bragging. You tell a friend, or you run your mouth on a board, and sooner or later people in power will find out what you did, who you are, and you're gone...I honestly don't know what purpose this file will serve, maybe someone somewhere will read it, and know the truth about hackers. Not the lies that the ignorant spread. To the true hackers out there, I hope I am portraying what you are in this file... If I am not, then I at least am saying what I think a true hacker should be. And to those wanna-be's out there who like the label of "HACKER" being tacked onto them, grow up, would ya?

Oh yeah, the file I quoted from... It has been done (at least) two times. "The Hacker's Manifesto" or "Conscience of a Hacker" are the two names I've seen it given. (A file by itself, and part of an issue of Phrack) Either way, it was written by The Mentor, and it is absolutely the best thing ever written on the subject of hackers. Read it, it could change your life.
Spread it around, but don't change anything please. . .

I is in China....

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 23:17:35 GMT

...and spreading American propaganda! If China ever wants to invade America, they will fear us Americans. I have introduced them to the superior American gun fu skillz of 1337ness. It's like kung fu, but with a gun. ^_^

http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XOTk3NjQxMDg=.html

And yes, that is me. -_-

Dear Great Firewall,

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 01:09:17 GMT

Fuck you! I are t3h winners!

More to follow later!

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 05:02:32 GMT

Happy New Years to all!
新年快乐！

Mon, 25 Dec 2006 07:26:07 GMT

Merry Christmas and to all a happy New Year.

Fri, 01 Sep 2006 23:44:56 GMT

For those wondering... I am not dead, just in Beijing China. No internet access except at comp labs and too lazy to go there. All is well, hope same for j00z ^_^