224 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
224 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
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########## ### ### ##########
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Underground eXperts United
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Presents...
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[ The New World Order ] [ By The GNN ]
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____________________________________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________
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"THE NEW WORLD ORDER"
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by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu
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"Hacking is the concrete method of creating the new world order."
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('No More Secrets')
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I. FINAL ASSAULT
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'fiat justitia, ruat coelum'
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"We fight a war against the unholy. Against those who don't believe in
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the free world, the dream, the life. I am proud to participate in this
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war. It is a question about good and evil, right or wrong - and we are the
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good and the right!"
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Colonel Klaage knew how to put the words properly. He was a stocky man
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with army clothes, power shined in his eyes. Unfortunately, he was not
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screaming the words to his animal-like hard boiled soldiers but to a
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street-smart journalist from Seventh Heaven News.
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"Sounds nice. But hey - what does it mean?" the female journalist
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asked.
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Colonel Klaage sucked on his fat cigar. He exhaled a thick white cloud
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and answered: "It's so simple that even you outta understand that."
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"I see."
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"I doubt that."
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The tank rumbled over a deep depression in the ground and sent the two
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of them flying around in the tight space.
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"Fuck!" Klaage screamed and turned to the driver. "Watch it, shithead!"
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The green display on the dashboard commented: "Six Four Five, you are
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driving in heavy terrain. Would you like to set your NRAMs?"
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The driver neither answered the display nor Klaage. The intermezzo was
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over. Colonel Klaage turned to the impressively calm journalist.
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"We are close to the battle area. Things may get pretty fucking hot
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around us." he said, almost yelling the words 'pretty' and 'fucking'.
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The journalist nodded and smiled.
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"I am used to it. I was in Iraq..."
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"... and the Gulf war was ten years ago, and a damn PLAYGROUND compared
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to this!"
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The journalist hesitated with her mouth open. Colonel Klaage had been
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quite a nice guy when she met him the first time. Now, he was probably
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filled to the limit with adrenaline. Close to a battle area there
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obviously was no more Mr Nice Guy, she pondered.
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It took several minutes before she dared to speak again.
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"Who are we fighting against, Colonel?"
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"The enemy."
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"Who are the enemy in this case?"
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A short moment of silence.
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"Listen honey, we live in a modern society. Machines tell us who the
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enemy are, but that does not mean that the machines choose our enemies.
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There are humans behind every machine, every computer, every decision."
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"Yes?"
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"We have been told to go to point 15. By machines."
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"By machines... but what do you expect to find when we'll reach this
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point fifty place?"
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"The enemy."
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"But who..."
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The colonel swung around his head, the cigar almost fell out off his
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mouth, and stared into her eyes.
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"Too many shitty questions!" he screamed. "Too many!"
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Silence.
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Then, suddenly, everything turned black. The sound from the tank's
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engine disappeared. The display slowly faded away.
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"What... is going ON here?" Colonel Klaage screamed in the darkness.
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The only visible light, the cigar, moved back and forth.
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A loud gasp could be heard from the driver. "I have no idea. I guess
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we have some kind of power failure."
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"Impossible!" Klaage screamed, this time even louder. "This is a XC100
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tank, constructed and built in the fucking free world, and there is NO
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FUCKING WAY IT..."
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The display came to life.
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digitialanarchydigitalanarchyd
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"What was that?" the journalist asked.
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digitialanarchydigitalanarchyd
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"Look!" she yelled and pointed at the display.
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There was no information about the tank on the display. Nothing
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concerning the speed, nothing that told them where they were. There was
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just two simple words - 'digital anarchy'.
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"We have been fooled!" Colonel Klaage screamed, sounding unusually
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hysterical. The cigar fell out of his mouth.
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"By who?"
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"The enemy! The enemy!"
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The journalist felt confused: "But WHO are the enemy in this case?"
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Silence. The journalist thought she heard Colonel Klaage sob.
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anarchydigitalanarchydigitalan
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II. DIGITAL ANARCHY
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'pacta sunt servanda'
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Cola bottles (empty), packets of cigarettes (empty), beer cans (empty),
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David Owen (or perhaps better known as Phinal Force) himself, and in front
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of him - a personal computer, connected to the telephone line.
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That was all there was in his small apartment. Since he refused to be
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called a computer freak in public, he never went outside.
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Sure, David was a computer freak. But he did not really mind that. He
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was about to become famous. On the monitor in front of his smiling face
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there were only two words, but they were sure enough.
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He calculated that the long-awaited revolution would arise in the next
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twelve hours. By then people should be aware of the unstable situation.
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Of course, nobody would know that he had created it. Not yet.
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But right now it was time to make a few phone calls. People waited. He
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would not let them down.
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III. THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME
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'alea jacta est'
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When Onkel drove his fifty-gallon truck through the streets, never
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thinking about using the brake nor transmission, I was ready to die. Old
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Onkel was not really a good driver due to his unability to use his right
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arm ("a darn bullet from some rebel!"), and due to the fact that he enjoyed
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to gulp down a few beers before he even thought about entering the truck.
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"I tell ya this young boy", he said to me with his broken voice. "One
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got to stay close to death to really live."
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I nodded, even tough I did not really agree this very minute.
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"... and, if ya experience the Real Life, you will never worry about
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Real Death. Because death will come to ya sooner or later, but ya don't
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really care, 'cause you have experienced the Real Life. Get it?"
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"Sure."
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"Nah, ya don't get it." he mumbled and wiped away a few drips of saliva
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out of his filthy grey beard.
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We rumbled past the City Hall, beggars and robbers constantly screaming
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at us to stop. Dirty, ugly and lethal individuals everywhere. Sad sight.
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I put two rounds into my shotgun, but Onkel placed his hand over mine.
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"Never mind," he said. "These people are not the ones ya ought to waste
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your ammo on... save it for the ones who deserve it. Do not shoot the
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victims, go for the killers."
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I placed the double-piped gun on the floor. Out of my holster, I drew
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my pistol.
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"Didn't I tell ya to..." Onkel began.
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"Just checking."
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The truck took a little leap when we drove over a large piece of metal.
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It was probably some unknown device belonging to some wrecked car, perhaps
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destroyed by a bomb or by some unidentified member of the Crazed
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Rebellions. The city was packed with trash, surrounded by shabby buildings
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and grey concrete ruins.
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Onkel knew how to avoid the mine fields when driving. That made me feel
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a little bit secure. 'Tourists' and hungry criminals, however, usually did
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not know. Therefor, the city was packed with dead bodies too.
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"How did it become like this?" I asked and fumbled for my cigarettes.
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I knew the answer already, but Onkel loved to talk about it.
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"Oh, it was... uh... back in da 'ol days. Perhaps... fifty years
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ago. The beginning of this century. Some kids with expensive equipment
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examined the possibilities of changing the world with their knowledge."
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A loud bang was heard. Someone fired. Onkel pretended as he did not
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hear it.
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"... believed in a new world order. They thought that a new society
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would arise from digital anarchy. Their attack fooled everyone, including
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the top, ya know. Shit..."
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"Amazing..."
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"Kinda. But you can't have one without the other. They crushed the
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system, but the result turned out to become something completely different.
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Without a God, there is no moral. Without a system, there was no more
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rules. People did not thank them, instead chaos began ruling."
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I looked at the city of trash. I studied the people of no hope.
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"They played the most dangerous game."
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"They sure did. Nothing to do 'bout it now. No remorse."
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And the truck just kept on rolling.
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-----
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Note: 'Digital Anarchy' is not an expression invented by me.
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I found it when I studied the uXu dist site BBS list.
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Somehow, it inspired me to write this small file.
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Call Digital Anarchy - [703]-758-0950. Sysop: Erudite.
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-----
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//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
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Why not check another excellent electronic zine?
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Check this out: ETEXT.ARCHIVE.UMICH.EDU pub/Zines/Mindwarp
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Sex Machine.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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uXu #244 Underground eXperts United 1995 uXu #244
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Call GOAT BLOWERS ANONYMOUS -> +1-215-750-0392
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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