A beautiful young model boarded a plane to New York with a ticket for the economy section. She looked at the seats in economy, and then looked into the forward cabin at the luxurious first-class seats.
Seeing that the first-class seats appeared to be much larger and more comfortable, she moved forward to the last empty seat in first-class.
The flight attendant checked her ticket and told the woman that her seat was in economy.
The blonde replied, 'I'm a famous model, and I’ve never had this problem before. I'm going to sit here all the way, until we get to New York.'
Flustered, the flight attendant went to the cockpit and informed the captain of the problem. The captain went back and told the woman that her assigned seat was in economy.
Again, the blonde replied: 'I'm a famous model. I'm sitting here all the way to New York.”
The captain didn’t want to cause a commotion, and so returned to the cockpit to discuss the blonde problem with the co-pilot.
The co-pilot said that he used to date a model like her, and that he could take care of the problem. He then went back and briefly whispered something in the blonde's ear.
She immediately got up and said, 'okay, thank you'. She then hugged the co-pilot, and rushed back to her seat in the economy section.
The pilot and flight attendant, who were watching with rapt attention, asked the Co-pilot what he had said to the woman.
He replied, 'I just told her that the first-class seats aren't going to New York.'
On a plane bound for New York the flight attendant approached a blonde sitting in the first class section and requested that she move to coach since she did not have a first class ticket.
The blonde replied, "I'm blonde; I'm beautiful; I'm going to New York; and I'm not moving."
Not wanting to argue with a customer, the flight attendant asked the co-pilot to speak with her. He went to talk with the woman, asking her to please move out of the first class section.
Again, the blonde replied, "I'm blonde; I'm beautiful; I'm going to New York, and I'm not moving."
The co-pilot returned to the cockpit and asked the captain what he should do. The captain said, "I'm married to a blonde, and I know how to handle this."
He went to the first class section and whispered in the blonde's ear. She immediately jumped up and ran to the coach section mumbling to herself, "Why didn't someone just say so?"
Surprised, the flight attendant and the co-pilot asked what he said to her that finally convinced her to move from her seat.
He said, "I told her the first class section wasn't going to New York."
The chief of staff of the US Air Force decided that he would personally intervene in the recruiting crisis affecting all of our armed services.
He directed a nearby Air Force base that will be opened and that all eligible young men and women be invited.
As he and his staff were standing near a brand new F-15 Fighter, a pair of twin brothers who looked like they had just stepped off a Marine Corps recruiting poster walked up to them.
The chief of staff walked up to them, stuck out his hand and introduced himself.
He looked at the first young man and asked, "Son, what skills can you bring to the Air Force?"
The young man looks at him and says, "I'm a pilot!"
The general gets all excited, turns to his aide and says, "Get him in today, all the paper work done, everything, do it!"
The aide hustles the young man off.
The general looks at the second young man and asked, "What skills to you bring to the Air Force?"
The young man says, "I chop wood!"
"Son," the general replies, "we don't need wood choppers in the Air Force, what do you know how to do?"
"I chop wood!"
"Young man," huffs the general, "you are not listening to me, we don't need wood choppers, this is the 20th century!"
"Well," the young man says, "you hired my brother!"
"Of course we did," says the general, "he's a pilot!"
The young man rolls his eyes and says, "So what! I have to chop it before he can pile it!"
As the crowded airliner is about to take off, the peace is shattered by a five-year-old boy who picks that moment to throw a wild temper tantrum. No matter what his frustrated, embarrassed mother does to try to calm him down, the boy continues to scream furiously and kick the seats around him. Suddenly, from the rear of the plane, an elderly man in the uniform of an Air Force General is seen slowly walking forward up the aisle. Stopping the flustered mother with an upraised hand, the white-haired, courtly, soft-spoken General leans down and, motioning toward his chest, whispers something into the boy's ear.
Instantly, the boy calms down, gently takes his mother's hand, and quietly fastens his seat belt.
All the other passengers burst into spontaneous applause. As the General slowly makes his way back to his seat, one of the cabin attendants touches his sleeve.
"Excuse me, General," she asks quietly, "but could I ask you what magic words you used on that little boy?"
The old man smiles serenely and gently confides, "I showed him my pilot's wings, service stars, and battle ribbons, and explained that they entitle me to throw one passenger out the plane door, on any flight I choose."
A doctor, a lawyer, a little boy scout and a pastor were out for a Sunday afternoon flight on a small private plane. Suddenly, the plane developed engine trouble. In spite of the best efforts of the pilot, the plane started to go down. Finally, the pilot grabbed a parachute, yelled to the passengers that they had better jump, and bailed out. Unfortunately there were only three parachutes remaining. The doctor grabbed one and said "I'm a doctor, I save lives, so I must live," and jumped out. The lawyer then said "I'm the smartest man in the world, I deserve to live!" He grabbed a parachute and jumped, also. The pastor looked at the little boy scout and said, "My son, I've lived a long and full life. You are young and have your whole life ahead of you. Take the last parachute and live in peace."The little boy scout handed the parachute back to the pastor and said "Not to worry, Preacher. 'The smartest man in the world' just jumped out with my back pack."
One day at a busy airport, the passengers on a commercial airliner are seated waiting for the pilot to show up so they can get underway.
The pilot and copilot finally appear in the rear of the plane and begin walking up to the cockpit through the center aisle.
Both appear to be blind; the pilot is using a white cane, bumping into passengers right and left as he stumbles down the aisle.
The copilot is using a guide dog.
Both have their eyes covered with sunglasses.
At first, the passengers do not react thinking that it must be some sort of practical joke.
After a few minutes though, the engines start revving, and the airplane begins moving down the runway.
The passengers look at each other with some uneasiness.
They start whispering among themselves and look desperately to the stewardesses for reassurance.
Yet, the plane starts accelerating rapidly, and people begin panicking.
Some passengers are praying, and as the plane gets closer and closer to the end of the runway, the voices are becoming more and more hysterical.
When the plane has less than twenty feet of runway left, there is a sudden change in the pitch of the shouts as everyone screams at once.
At the very last moment, the plane lifts off and is airborne.
Up in the cockpit, the copilot breathes a sigh of relief and tells the pilot: "You know, one of these days the passengers aren't going to scream, and we aren't going to know when to take off!"
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.
A blonde went to a flight school insisting she wanted to learn to fly. As all the planes were currently in use, the owner agreed to instruct her by radio on how to pilot the solo helicopter. He took her out, showed her how to start it and gave her the basics, and sent her on her way.
After she climbed 1000 feet, she radioed in. "I'm doing great! I love it! The view is so beautiful, and I'm starting to get the hang of this."
After 2000 feet, she radioed again, saying how easy it was to fly.
The instructor watched her climb over 3000 feet, and was beginning to worry that she hadn't radioed in. A few minutes later, he watched in horror as she crashed about half a mile away. He ran over and pulled her from the wreckage.
When he asked what happened, she said, "I don't know! Everything was going fine, but as I got higher, I was starting to get cold. I can barely remember anything after I turned off the big fаn!"