There is some compelling force in all Hackers that seems to draw them to their computers every day. Why they get up at 4am to use the modem, and why they continue to rack up a truly incredible phone bill is beyond me.
Most computer areas, at your home or at your office, tend to be messy. Even you try to keep it clean, it is truly impossible. Whether it be empty Coke cans laying all around, soldering devices, electric diodes, computer parts, or integrated circuits, it is not only a pain for your mother to look at, but a prime Russian ICBM missile target as well.
There is much detail needed to explain a Hacker. For instance, instead of organizing his clothes by color, best ones, or style, he organizes his by pile. Also, he likes to sing songs such as, "Let's get Digital", "We all live in a yellow subroutine", and "Somewhere over the RAMbow".
Most Hackers do well in school. The reason is not to impress their teachers, not to get money from their parents, and not to be educated, but they do it so they can hopefully get a scholarship to MIT. You can't blame them, though, if they are looking out into space. It might be because they are worried if MCI traced the calls that they sent to NORAD.
All Hackers, big or small, love computers, whether they be Trash-80's or an IBM 360/VM workstation. When they get on one, it's mighty hard to get them off of it.
There are 2 types of Hackers. One who likes to crash local BBS's, and the one who writes programs in Assembly Language. The Hacker who crashes systems is the one that most people think that a Hacker is. A typical example of one is John Fredrickson (A.K.A. "The Phone Man"). He loves to crash computers, and break into illegal systems. The ones that he has gotten in to are MCI, CitiBank, school systems, IBM, Southern Веll, and Georgia Tech, not to mention all the ones in between.
The second type of Hacker is the programmer. He writes games, utilities, and anything else that he can think of. Take for example, John Harris, a freelance software writer for On-Line Software Co. John had a brainstorm one day, and decided to write Frogger for the Apple. He thought that it would take about 3 weeks to complete. He started on Frogger a week late, because of the complicated music set that he had to write. After two months, he was almost done. He decided to take a break and go to the Software Expo. He decided to take his nearly completed Frogger, and show it to the consumers at the show. He also took with him the only back-up copy, in case the main disk did not boot.
While at the fair, he was talking to the Manager about getting a booth. He had his disks with him. Then, when he got a booth reserved, he reached down to get his disks, and they were gone! All his hard work, including the MultiLevel character generator, music lines, disk subroutines, assembly routines, debugging programs, etc. All gone.
After that tragedy, John was in a deep depression. He finally started working on it again in 3 months. He completed it in 4 months and 3 days.
Part Two:
Hackers always take time off. There is always one way to notice a true Hacker. At a party, the true Hacker is the one in the corner talking about operating system security and how to get around it. At the beach, the True Hacker is the one drawing flow charts in the sand. At a football game, the true Hacker is the one comparing the football plays against a simulation printed on 11 by 14 fanfold paper.
Most Hackers work for the U.S. Government-- mainly the Department of Defense. You can see the best Hackers at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California.
What sort of environment does a Hacker function best in? No, not a heated room with a clean table and disks organized neatly, but they do best in rooms that have line-printed Snoopy calendars from the year 1969. They do not know how to cook, so they survive on Twinkies and coffee. Instead of wasting electricity for a heater, they spend it on air-conditioners to cool of their computer system in mid-January when the temperatures are below freezing. They wear layers and layers of clothing to keep the body heat in. When you see one of these people, instead of a Hacker coming into your mind, you think that he is about to go on a Polar expedition somewhere in the North Pole.
Hackers also like to hang around arcades. (This is also true for kids, little old ladies, and fighter pilots.) There, secluded in their
own environment, Hackers can talk freely on computer hints and short cuts while playing Pac-Man, or Joust.
All Hackers like Graphics. They like low-resolution, but prefer high-resolution the best. These graphics, such as Sine waves, rotating 3-D boxes, and little balloons, are confined to the limits of a systems capability. The older more experienced Hackers are the ones who are lucky enough to get to work on a VAX system, and maybe even a CRAY-1 SuperComputer. If they use these, they have only the limits of their imagination to stop them.
Most Middle School Hackers between the ages of 10 through 14, like to use computers to do reports on, and play games. Some of these younger generation Hackers have gotten into BASIC programming.
Some people, like to impress real Hackers by making them think that they know everything. There is a name for this kind of person. He is a Sub-Hacker (Intillectuous dumbfoundeth). For instance, you come up to them one day, and say,"Hey so-and-so what does BASIC stand for?" and you could sit there for days, and he would act like the answer was on the tip of his tongue, when it was probably in his toes. It is people like this that give Hackers a bad name.
Part Three:
All Hackers have rules that they go by. One is to never call long distance on Monday, because of the high phone charge. If builders built buildings they way programmers wrote programs, the first woodpecker that comes along would destroy civilization. Another is, if the computer accepts a program on the first run without any errors, either there is a malfunction, or it must be a dream.
Hackers are a unique breed. Combining intelligence, personality, and a morale sense of good taste. A Hacker enjoys the environment that appeals to him the most. Such as, the computer room, the arcade, science lab, or the Atari downstairs. They like to be alone. Secluded in their own thoughts, thinking of what the password could be to log on to General Electric. Hackers are the people who are going to make our future brighter, and more exciting in the field of electronics, data processing, artificial intelligence, and programming. We need to support these people in all the ways that we can, so we will be insured of a more happier future in the world of technological advancements.
Joe and Joan were sitting down to their usual morning cup of coffee listening to the weather report on the radio. "There will be 3 to 5 inches of snow today, and a snow emergency has been declared," the weather report said."You must park your cars on the odd numbered side of the streets."Joe said, "Jeez, okay," and got up from his coffee.The next day they were sitting down with their morning cups of coffee. The weather forecast was, "There will be 2 to 4 inches of snow today, and a snow emergency has been declared.You must park your cars on the even numbered side of the streets." Again Joe replied, "Jeez, okay," and got up from his coffee.Two days later, again they're sitting down with their cups of coffee and the weather forecast said, "There will be 6 to 8 inches of snow today, and a snow emergency has been declared. You must park your cars on the..." and the power went out and Joe didn't get the rest of the instructions.He turned to Joan, "Jeez, what am I going to do now, Joan?"Joan replied, "Aw, Joe, just leave the car in the darned garage today."
A father walks into a restaurant with his young son. He gives the young boy three nickels to play with to keep him occupied. Suddenly, the boy starts choking, going blue in the face. The father realizes the boy has swallowed the nickels and starts slapping him on the back. The boy coughs up two of the nickels, but keeps choking. Looking at his son, the father is panicking, shouting for help.
A well dressed, attractive, and serious looking woman, in a blue business suit is sitting at a coffee bar reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. At the sound of the commotion, she looks up, puts her coffee cup down, neatly folds the newspaper and places it on the counter, gets up from her seat and makes her way, unhurried, across the restaurant.
Reaching the boy, the woman carefully drops his pants; takes hold of the boy's' testicles and starts to squeeze and twist, gently at first and then ever so firmly. After a few seconds the boy convulses violently and coughs up the last nickel, which the woman deftly catches in her free hand.
Releasing the boy's testicles, the woman hands the nickel to the father and walks back to her seat at the coffee bar without saying a word.
As soon as he is sure that his son has suffered no ill effects, the father rushes over to the woman and starts thanking her saying, "I've never seen anybody do anything like that before, it was fantastic. Are you a doctor?"
"No," the woman replied. "I'm with the IRS."
This elderly lady went to the doctor for a check-up. Everything checked out fine.
The old lady pulled the doctor to the side and said, ”Doctor, I haven’t had sеx for years now and I was wondering how I can increase my husband’s sеx drive.”
The doctor smiled and said, ”Have you tried to give him Viаgrа?”
The lady frowned. ”Doctor, I can’t even get him to take aspirin when he has a headache,” she claimed.
”Well,” the doctor continued, ”Let me suggest something. Crush the Viаgrа into a powder. When you are giving him coffee, stir it into the coffee and serve it. He won’t notice a thing.”
The old lady was delighted.
She left the doctor’s office quickly.
Weeks later the old lady returned.
She was frowning and the doctor asked her what was wrong.
She shook her head.
”How did it go?” the doctor asked.
”Terrible, doctor, terrible.”
”Did it not work?”
”Yes,” the old lady said, ”It worked. I did as you said and he got up and ripped his clothes off right then and there and we made mad love on the table. It was the best sеx that I’d had in 25 years.”
”Then what is the problem, ma’am?”
”Well,” she said. ”I can’t ever show my face in McDonald’s again.
Dear Diary, For my birthday this year, my daughter (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My daughter seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress and this is it.
MONDAY: Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess – with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring! Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!
TUESDAY: I drank a whole рот of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It's a whole new life for me.
WEDNESDAY: The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. Her voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the heck would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other сrар too.
THURSDAY: Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late – it took me that long to tie my shoes. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. She sent another skinny trainer to find me. Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing machine — which I immediately sank.
FRIDAY: I hate Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Sтuрid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little cheerleader!! If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the sтuрid barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
SATURDAY: Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.
SUNDAY: I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank the Lord that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my daughter (the little jеrк) will choose a gift for me that is fun — like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!