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So I had found purpose. Ive thought that I had purpose many times before. How could I tell this time was any different?
Everybody got up to leave. I had been quite occupied. It never even occurred to me that I would have to get up and actually get on with my life. So I grabbed my things and weaved between the desks on my way out the door. Again everything would get smaller. I couldnt handle the journey. On my way up to history, seems to be the farthest walk all day. Its just that I was never in any hurry to get there. I know the argument. If we do not learn from the past, we are doomed to repeat it. I never really cared about that. There are quite a few things worth repeating. The history hallway was not one of them. It is just so old. But thats not what makes it bad. The real thing that makes is the distance. I dont want to go the distance. I dont want to go for speed. Not a whole lot of point to it now.
I got into the room. Mrs. Poklitar on the left with big stacks of papers all over her desk and posters all over the room. Really History is not important to me . Therefore I get my assignment to do in class, but actually intend to do it at home. So history is over before I know it. Nothing big, two more classes to go before I am free for my short while. I wont really ever be able to go home. I have no place here. I have no place there. It is not that I am not accepted wherever I go, it only that I am never able to accept myself in my own environment.
I stood out of my desk. I walked forward, left, right, left, left, and sit back down in my next desk. Math analysis is the greatest class in the whole wide world. Except for when I am there. But calendars are a blessing, sleep is a gift.
The best period of the day is the final one. It is also the longest. Just study hall, couldnt we just go home.
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| HACKERS MANIFESTO
The Conscience of a Hacker
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? Didyou 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 forthe 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 id 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 callus 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+++
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