The following was written shortly after my arrest, the conscience of a hacker by the
mentor, written on the 8th of January 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 1950s techno brain ever look behind the eyes of a 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 the world that begins with school. I am smarter than
most of the other kids. This crap that their teachers bores me. Damn
underachiever. They're all alike. In the junior high I've listened to teachers
explained for the 15th time how to reduce a bloody fraction. I understand, I've got
it. No myth, I didn't show you 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 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 to
begin with. Damn kid, all he does is play games, they're all alike. And then it
happened, a door open to a world rushing through the phone line, like heroin
through an addict's vein. 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 were hungry for steak. The bits of meat
that you did let slip through were pre-tuned and tasteless. We've been
dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic, the few that had something to
teach founders 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 board. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what
could be dirt-cheaped 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
that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My
crime is that about smarting 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.
