154 lines
9.0 KiB
Plaintext
154 lines
9.0 KiB
Plaintext
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% NIGHT OF THE HACKERS %
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% By: Richard Sandza %
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% Typed by: %
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% --==**>>THE REFLEX<<**==-- %
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% [Member: Omnipotent, Inc.] %
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% This original article appeared in %
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% the November 12,1984 issue of %
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% NEWSWEEK. The result of the %
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% article was the piss-offment of %
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% the many hackers of America. He %
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% wrote a follow-up article called: %
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% 'REVENGE OF THE HACKERS', which %
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% can be found in this library too. %
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% It just shows you not to screw %
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% with these guys! %
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As you are surveying a dark and misty swamp you come across what appears
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to be a small cave. You light a torch and enter. You have walked several
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hundred feet when stumble into a bright blue portal... With a sudden burst of
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light and a loud explosion you are swept into... DRAGONFIRE... PRESS ANY KEY IF
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YOU DARE.
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You have programmed your personal computer to dial into Dragonfire, a
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computer bulletin board in Gainesville, Texas. But before you get any
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information, Dragonfire demands your name, home city and phone number. So, for
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tonights tour of the electronic wilderness you become Montana Wildhack (a
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character in Kurt Vonnegut's book 'Slaughterhouse Five') of San Francisco.
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Dragonfire, Sherwood Forrest(sic), Forbidden Zone, Blottoland, Plovernet,
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The Vault, Shadowland, PHBI and scores of other computer bulletin boards are
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hang-outs of a new generation of vandals. These precocious teen-agers use
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their electronic skills with to play hide-and-seek with computer and security
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forces. Many computer bulletin boards are perfectly legitimate: They resemble
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the electronic versions of the familiar cork boards in supermarkets and school
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corridors, listing services and providing information someone out there is
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bound to find useful. But this is a walk on the wild side, a trip into the
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world of underground bulletin boards dedicated to encouraging -- and making --
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mischief.
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The numbers for these boards are as closely guarded as a psychiatrist's
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home telephone number. Some numbers are posted on underground boards; others
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are exchanged over the telephone. A friendly hacker provided Dragonfire's
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number. Hook up and see a broad choice of topics offered. For Phone Phreaks
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-- who delight in stealing service from AT&T and other phone networks --
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Phreakenstein's Lair is a potpourri of phone numbers, access codes and
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technical information. For computer hackers -- who dial into other people's
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computers -- Ranger's Lodge is chock full of phone numbers and passwords for
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government, university and corporate computers.
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Moving through Dragonfire's offerings, you can only marvel at how
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conversant these teen-agers are with the technical esoterica of today's
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electronic age. Obviously they have spent a great deal of time studying
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computers, though their grammar and spelling indicate they haven't been as
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diligent in other subjects. You are constantly reminded of how young they
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are...
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"Well it's that time of year again. School is back in session so let's get
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those high school computer phone numbers rolling in. Time to get straight A's,
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have perfect attendance(except when you've been up all night hacking school
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passwords), and messing up your worst teacher's paycheck."
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Forbidden Zone, in Detroit, is offering ammunition for hacker civil war --
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tips on crashing the most popular bulletin-board software. There are also
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plans for building black, red and blue boxes to mimic operator tones and get
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free phone service. And here are the details for 'the safest and best way to
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make and use nitroglycerin,' compliments of Doctor Hex, who says he got it
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'from my chemistry teacher.'
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Flip through the 'pages.' You have to wonder if this information is
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accurate. Can this really be the phone number and password for Taco Bell's
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computer? Do these kids really have the dial-up numbers for dozens of
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university computers? The temptation is too much. You sign off and have
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your computer dial the number for the Yale computer. Bingo -- the words Yale
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University appear on your screen. You hang up in sweat. You are now a Hacker.
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Punch in another number and your modem zips off the touch tones. Here is
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the tedious side of all this. Bulletin boards are popular. No vacancy at
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Bates Motel (named for Anthony Perkin's creepy motel in the movie 'Psycho');
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the line is busy. So are 221 B. Baker Street, PHBI, Shadowland and The Vault.
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Ceaser's Palace rings and connects. This is a different breed of board.
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Ceaser's Palace is a combination Phreak board and computer store in Miami.
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This is the place to learn ways to mess up a department store's antishoplifting
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system, or make free calls on telephone with locks the dial. Pure capitalism
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accompanies such anarchy. Ceaser's Palace is offering good deals on disk
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drives, software, computers and all sorts of hardware. Orders are placed
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through electronic mail messages.
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'Tele-Trial': Bored by Ceaser's Palace, you enter the number for
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Blottoland, the board operated by one of the nation's most notorious computer
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phreaks -- King Blotto. This one has been busy all night, but it is now pretty
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late in Cleveland. The phone rings and you connect. To get past the blank
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screen, type the seconday password 'S-L-I-M-E.' King Blotto obliges, listing
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his rules: He must have your real name, phone number, address, occupation and
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intrests. He will call and disclose the primary password, 'if you belong on
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this board.' If admitted, do not reveal the phone number or secondary
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password, lest you face 'tele-trial,' the King warns as he dismisses you by
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hanging up.
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You expected heavy security, but this teen-ager's security is, as they
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say, awesome. Computers at the Defense Department and hundreds of businesses
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let you know when you reached them. Here you need a password just to find out
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what system answered the phone. Then King Blotto asks questions -- and hangs
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up. Professional computer-security experts could learn something from this
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kid. He knows that ever since the 414 computer hackers were arrested in August
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1982, law-enforcement officers have searching for leads on computer bulletin
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boards.
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'Do you have any ties or connections with any law enforcement agency or
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any any agency which would inform such a law-enforcement agency of this
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bulletin board?'
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Such is the welcoming message from Plovernet, a Florida board known for
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its great hack/phreak files. There amid a string of valid VISA and Mastercard
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numbers are dozens of computer phone numbers and passwords. Here you also
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learn what Blotto means by tele-trial. 'As some of you may or may not know, a
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session of conference court was held and the Wizard was found guilty of
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miscellaneous charges, and sentenced to four months without bulleting boards.'
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If Wizard calls, system operators like King Blotto disconnect him.
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Paging through the bulletin boards is a test of your patience. Each board
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has different commands. Few are easy to follow, leaving you to hunt and peck
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your way around. So far you haven't has the nerve to hit 'C,' which summons
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the system operator for a live, computer-to-computer conversation.
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The time, however, has come for you to ask a few questions of the 'sysop.'
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You dial a computer in Boston. It answers and you begin working your way
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through the menus. You scan a handful of dial-up numbers including one for
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Arpanet, the Defense Department's research computer. Bravely tap C and in
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seconds the screen blanks and your cursor dances across the screen.
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Hello... What kind of computer do you have?
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Contact. The sysop is here. You exchange amenities and get 'talking.'
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How much hacking does he do? Not much, too busy. Is he afraid of being
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busted, having his computer confiscated like the Los Angeles man facing
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criminal charges because his computer bulletin board system contained a stolen
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telephone-credit-card number? 'Hmmmmm... No,' he replies. Finally he asks the
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dreaded question: 'How old are you?' 'How old are YOU,' you reply, stalling.
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'15,' he types. Once you confess and he knows you're old enough to be his
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father, the conversation gets very serious. You fear each new question; he
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probably thinks you're a cop. But all he wants to know is your choice for
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president. The chat continues, until he asks, 'What time is it there?' Just
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past midnight, you reply. Expletive. 'It's 3:08 here,' Sysop types. 'I must
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be going to sleep. I've got school tomorrow.' The cursor dances.
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'*********** Thank You for Calling.' The screen goes blank.
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