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Beyond Lost 02
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Issue 2! Now with 7 times the msg! Chinese food cowers before us!
www.connix.com/~rybread/beyond.html Phree! lmth.dnoyeb\daerbyr~\moc.xinnoc.www
What Is It?
-=====================================--=====================================-
If you don't know, then ask your mom and dad. Seriously. This is an e-zine
for lots (lost) of different peoples. Those in the 203 scene will prolly
like it or at least be able to gulp it down. Haquers, Doodle Boys, Lepers
and even an occasional Warez D00d will find a moment of nice-nice in this
vanilla dome. Have fun.
-unix--kills--windows--dead--unix--kills--windows--dead--unix--kills--window--
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$$ Beyond Lost - Table Of Contents $$
$$ 1. What is it? $$
i!$$ 2. Table of Contents $$
$$ 3. Editor's Rant: Bad Story-Good Idea $$
$$ 4. HATEMAIL $$
$$ 5. LOVEMAIL $$
$$ 6. An overview to AUDIX voice mail systems $$
$$ Transcribed by Khelbin $$
$$ 7. Beating Restrictions by Khelbin $$
$$ 8. Game Review/Female Masturbation Terms $$
$$ 9. Burro Believes Himself, Takes To Major Film $$
$$ Contract by Ben Ohmart $$
$$ 10. THE ANIMAL SCHOOL by Dr. George H. Reavis $$
$$ 11. How the SPAM-KOW was Slain $$
$$ 12. Hacker: Modern Vampire? $$
$$ 13. DayEight vs. Cthulhu Part 1 $$
$$ 14. Reactions: A Fictional Tale of Body $$
$$ Modification $$
$$ 15. Ignorance vs. Knowledge? Khelbin's tale $$
$$ (many files) $$
$$ 16. The I HATE LAUREN SALDUKAS Club newsletters $$
$$ circa 1993-4. $$
$$ 17. New Generic Contest $$
$$ 18. 203 Newz $$
$$ 19. Masthead - Info - URLS - Next Issue $$
$$ ƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒƒ $$
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Editorial: Bad Story-Good Idea
I know this story is very bad, but I the key idea is nifty-q, and I
felt like presenting it this way. Sorry for the horrid fiction, but read it
anyway...BTW, I prolly mispelled it but Moritori is from Latin that means,
"about to die".
Less Than A Whimper
===================
Scientist GI8 zipped the vacuum suit up. He started sweating as he
hear the now familiar sounds of dirty air being pumped out and clean air
coming he. By the time he entered Sector Moritori, he was sweating profusely,
building up an uneasy atmosphere on his face guard. Still, it was better than
being out there.
GI8 and the other government scientists in Moritori did not want to be
the first human test subjects of their own genetic engineered DNA disrupter:
Null. Of all the dangerous of Moritori the Null disrupter was the worse.
Sure, you had to be careful not to let Hospice Algea start growing on your
suit. (It happened once with a new clone and proved so disastrous that his
DNA could not even be recycled and the rest of DNA in the test tubes was
permanently retired.) Then again, as the name Moritori suggest, they are
expandable.
The fish tank seemed empty, except for a small gerbil lying on its
side. The scientist noticed that it had grown rather skinny and was lying in
its own filth. He opened the top of the tank and gently placed a small carrot
in front of the gerbil. The gerbil looked and gave a melancholy little sniff
and then repositioned its neck. Scientist sighed and removed the carrot and
put the lid back on the tank. He then preceded to write his daily evaluation.
He wish he a stamp for this. The results have not differed for days. It's
tough to write with thick, insulated gloves on. He soon completed the rest of
his tasks and made his way back to Station Purity, where the exit lie.
***
The cafeteria was almost completely vacant. The few souls that were
there were vigorously studying there notes or reading biographies of there
Originals. Then something caught his eye. A rarity was right there in the
cafeteria with him. His first thought was of suspicion. Why weren't the
others crowding him? Was he delirious with some new drug? He wasn't sure
but he decided to throw caution to the solar flares and approach this oddity.
An Original.
This would be a wonderful time to enter a soliloquy of what the hell is
going on. Well, this The Future(TM). The location is a modern sort of think
tank. Most of scientists here are type 7 clones, accelerated infancy and
adolescence. It is also a bit of a chop shop as all of these clones are near
exact copies of dead, but extremely smart, scientists. How the DNA was
obtained for some, such as Curie, Darwin and Gilt, is constantly a wonderment,
its used all the same. The only differences are superficial to give the
clones a sense of clonesly-ness, not massive egotism. They'll snip out some
personality there, add a little something from John Doe there, and, the
crowning touch, all of the clones are look exactly like each other, with the
exception that female clones have a small mole on there upper lip. They all
are completely hairless, have brown eyes, stand six feet even and weigh an
average of one hundred and thirty four pounds. The faces are perfectly
symmetrical, except the femme's moles, to the human eye. The government
clones these famous scientists and lets them work, gives them food, lets them
sleep, read and enjoy some of the tinier things of life. Of course they
aren't allowed to leave and usually end life as guinea pigs, but thet's life
being a clone.
GI8 sat down at the small, round, ceramic table and stared at the
man sitting across from him. This stranger was diligently reading something
in Time Warner Monthly and munching on a carrot that never seemed to be
shorter. The man could feel the clone's eyes burning onto him. He lowered
his magazine and raised his head and shined his teeth, pushing a dangling hair
from his green eyes.
"You have hair." GI8 was in culture shock.
"Do I?" He tossed his mane back.
"Yes. Is this a result of an experiment....." Or are you Original?
He wanted to scream, but held back.
"You could say that.. a bleak experiment. You might of heard of it.
They call it life."
GI8 wasn't sure what to do, so did what he saw happen on TV He let
loose a small, nervous laugh that barley filled the moment.
The stranger took a look around the room. No one else had yet to
react to the him, GI8 noticed. The stranger rose quickly, grabbed GI8's hand
and yanked him quickly out of the cafeteria and into the adjoining hallway.
"I need you to help me." The stranger's muffled words still had
excellent resonance in the hallway.
This was when GI8 decided to have his testosterone kick in.
"Who the fuck are you? Are you Original?"
"Original? Is that what you guys call it? Well, it doesn't matter
who the fuck I am, all that matter's is what the fuck I'm going to do and your
going to help me. I had a bitch of a time getting in here and your the first
one to notice me." His last remark came out pissy yet mystified at the same
time.
"Uh, the others probably thought you were a result of a test they are
in or you were on some chemical or something. I guess I'm just more curious
than the others."
The stranger looked at him with a quizzical look and then opened his
lips to talk, then closed them just to reopen them again. This time words
flowed out, "I don't even want to know what the hell they do to you, I just
want you to know what I can do to you." With that he removed a pistol from
his overalls and aimed it GI8. "Please, all I want is powerful, massively
destructive, non-nuclear weapon. I want to kill the world."
GI8 thought about this for a second.
GI8 thought about it for a few more seconds.
The stranger in the overalls waving a pistol was getting impatient.
GI8 said, "O.K. but we're going to have to get you an ID first."
***
GI8 brought his new friend to the Rec Room. Some clones were fucking,
a sight that brings new meaning to the idea of union. Other's were reading
or playing Pong on a giant T.V.
While the stranger gaped at the flesh mounds, GI8, with great stealth,
took his gun and shot the nearest clone, who happened to be a vain creature
who had been studying the mole on her face. It seemed to be a bit bigger than
the norm. The room went silent. GI8 was prepared.
"Don't worry, I'm just a delusion and your all being tested on with
Gleamonix right now."
There were a few shrugs and mutters and then the clones went back to
fucking, Ponging and whatnot. The stranger, though, was slightly peeved.
"Give me that back!" He exclaimed as he repurloined his pistol.
Muttered apologies came from the vicinity from a kneeling GI8. He was
bent over the dead clone. He turned her over revealing a barcode on the nape
of her neck. He dug his fingernails into her already softening flesh and
removed a bloody patch that contained the barcode.
"I'm not sure how you got this far, but where I'm taking you, you'll
be needing this for admittance."
***
Outside off Station Purity, GI8 stooped over as a red laser went over
his neck. His stranger held out his bloody patch. A bell made a common ding
and they entered Purity.
They put on the vacuum suits and marched to Sector Moritori. It was
empty save the emaciated gerbil and other animals. GI8 walked other to the
safe and removed a small vial that contained a thick, aquamarine liquid. He
carefully handed it over to the stranger.
"What the hell is this."
GI8 smiled. Then he explained.
"This is a prototype of Null. It's a genetic disrupter that only
needs nitrogen to survive and procreate, thus it's very serious we keep it
contained. Ah, be patient, I'll tell you what it does. I would ask you why
you keep on living, but looking at the goal you want, I think I'll choose
another path. Why do people, most people that is, want to live?"
"Uh.. to continue there existence I guess."
"Why?'
"To make a better life...."
"Why?"
"You got me in circles!" The stranger was peeved again.
"Your no fun. Not circles, but smaller and smaller units, until there
is nothing. There is no meaning to life, as you said earlier life is grand
mistake. But then why do we, and all carbon based organisms continue to live?
Because it everything, on some little chromosome or gene there sits a little
thing that is are will to live. Nothing special, just continuously
overlooked, to now." GI8 paused to catch his breath, as he had been speaking
at a feverish pace.
"This beta copy of Null simply removes the will to live, somewhat
slowly. Take my gerbil friend here for example," he pointed to his gerbil,
"he was put it contact with Null seven days ago. By the end of the second
day. He was a very confused little guy, not sure if he really wanted that
carrot or not. By the end of day three he wouldn't move for cocaine, his
favorite treat of the past, and only intense pain would cause him to move at
all. Pain and pleasure are the will of life's goons. They are the primal
reasons for life. Avoid pain and seek pleasure."
Now it was time for the stranger to speak.
"Woah... you say this is just the beta, what do they want the final
version to do?"
"I don't honestly think they would ever get what they wanted. They
wanted to release it so that it would only affect certain people and turn them
into a new sort of slave race, and of course now that everyone has nuclear
shields this would be the next A-Bomb."
"Those bastards!" The stranger was really getting choked up in his
suit.
"I guess so. Before you release it outside I'll tell you what's going
to happen. Null can operate at any temperature and the only substance that
destroys it is Nyoximel9. That's what's in the spray stuff. That vial's
offspring should lap the world within hours. All the people, all the pets,
protozoa, bacteria, plants, by the end of the week will just be sitting.
Hunger will hit, but won't change anything. Suicide is not an option. There
may no longer be a reason to live, but there is no reason to die. There are
no more reasons. An interesting side effect is that the simpler the organism
the faster it looses its will to live and since all decomposition comes from
tiny organisms... well, corpses will line the street. The weekends over, the
Earth is silent."
"Sounds cool."
"Yes, it does. I just ask one favor."
***
The next day KL9 and GI2 found GI8 dead on the floor with a bullet
through his head and a lock of hair in his hand. His suit was set upon a
table beside a dead gerbil.
DayEight
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
HATEMAIL-Just Another Way Of Saying I hate you, only through mail!
Well I made some massive "oopsies" when I posted the first Beyond Lost too
some usenet groups, as in trying to send it in 70 columns. Whoops. Let's
look at a flame post from a SubGenuis from alt.slack [notes in brackets]:
------------=========================================-----------------------
How fucking serendipitous. Just as I'm in the mood to tear the human
race a new asshole, this little fucker comes along and posts his fucking
weak zine over here. Congratulations.
[I'm honored]
Rybread Celsius (rybread@cshore.com) wrote:
[cshore.com? Woah, I haven't used FreeAgent in a long while. Wonder why I
used it too post this and not trn? hmm...heroin?]
: "We fight a battle [-------------------------]
:
: everyday & everyday ] -=Beyond Lost=- [
VERY creative use of formatting. Talk about CHARMING.
: rybread@anok4u2.org
: we loose, but keep [ Number One ]
Typo in the epigraph. Impressive.
[That's me all right]
: www.connix.com/~rybread/
: on fighting. We suck." ] "Teenage Angst Is Shit" [
: beyond.html
: [-------------------------]
What is this, formatted for 132 columns?
: -=====================================--=====================================-
: If you don't know, then ask your mom and dad. Seriously. This is an
: e-zine
: for lots (lost) of different peoples. Those in the 203 scene will
The 203 scene. Oh, god, I know I'm in for something great here.
[HAHAHAHAHAHA. I like this guy.]
: I came to a realization after my much troubled and depressed
: freshman
: year: Teenagers suck. What I mean is that for all are bitching,
: whining and
: "experimenting" nothing good comes from it. So the next time teenage
: angst
: came looking for me, I told it to go to hell. It told me to get lost.
: Now
: I'm beyond lost. Wasn't that poetic?
Oh, this is great. We have a fucking whiny teenager rant bitching
about how whiny and pathetic teenagers are. Fucking get over it, OK?
[And your doing the same thing by writing that....]
Stop complaining to us about how pathetic the human race is and fucking
do something about it, OK? Stockpile guns. Start wearing lots of makeup
and desperately try to get laid. Shove your nose in books all day and
assiduously avoid the real world. Neglect your personal hygiene and
[I'm not an exsistentialist]
go around riding the public transport mumbling to yourself. Find Jesus.
Start taking Prozac. I honestly don't care about your inner demons,
because your inner demons are REALLY FUCKING LAME. Take it elsewhere,
like alt.life.sucks, maybe, OK?
[I'm not asking you to read it, but I'm glad you got vent your anger.]
: Looking back at that last paragraph makes me again think of
: teenagers
: and my intolerable hatred for them, most possibly because I am one. I
: hate
: what I wrote, not the content but the style. Too bad it's mine.
: Enough self-
: reflection.
If only. Oh, if only.
: I reflect back at what I wrote and realize that this idea is
: just too
: much for me to put down in words at this moment, but it is most
: defiantly
: real.
Which fucking explains everything, doesn't it, and gives you a handy
excuse to go on with your tired self-indulgent angst rambling for a
couple more pages and then spam it all over the net. You know who you
[Side note: I only cross posted the montrositiy to 6 newsgroups.]
fucking sound like? You sound like *me*. And trust me, that's not a
good thing.
[We hate what we are? :) ]
: Nothing
: makes me really happy or sad, no extremes. I miss the extremes.
: Perhaps
: being hollow or empty is a form of depression, but if this is so,
: there is
: most defiantly a schism going on between them and modern man. If your
: empty
: your not depressed, I swear. It can be confused with depression but
: it lies
: in its own glorious realm of pain.
Excuse me, but that's the fucking DEFINITION of depression. Get
some fucking medical treatment and leave us alone.
[Umm, no, I'm not depressed for that would be a form of being sad and I
rarely feel sad, just a nuertral emptyness. Ha.]
: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
: fl€fl € € €flfl € € ‹flfl‹ ‹flfl‹ ‹fl ‹‹ (oooh, that
: € €fl€ €fl €flfl€ €flfl€ € flfl‹ BGI
: look!)
: fl fl fl flflfl fl fl fl fl flflfl flfl
Oooh, high-bit ASCII. I am in AWE.
[Doodle boys unite!]
--
Dave (not David) Lynch/Mutant Uebergeek etc./Founder, Church of Eternal Man
dflync01@homer.louisville.edu/"Yo como hamon y queso bocadillo!"-Neil Peart
ObObsoleteHomepage:http://www.rlabs.com/lynch|(.)(.)|Please email followups
PERFECT SLACK FOREVER/ROUND THINGS ARE BORING/I'M SERIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[Well that was fun!]
////____________________
/////LOVEMAIL: Smoooch. Yuck>
\\\\___________________/
[Whilst e-mailing Swamp Ratte' of el Cult de Dead Cow, we recieved these nice
quotes!]
MBOX-Line: From sratte Wed, 05 Mar 97 21:32:16 EST
To: Rybread Celsius <rybread@anok4u2.org>
Subject: Re: Danny Tanner: Gothic Super Idol
From: sratte@mindvox.com (Swamp Ratte)
Date: Wed, 05 Mar 97 21:12:28 EST
Organization: MindVox
> BTW have you checke dout my horrid little zine Beyond Lost and if so
>how bad?
I saw some of it, the cDc reviews and thought they were pretty much spot-on.
Good job, and I was glad to see 'em.
I put out the anti-cyberwatch thing 'cause it's a definite, real issue
some of cDc's target audience might have to deal with and could do something
about. I agree with your point "yeah we know censorship is bad, yadda
yadda" but I felt this wasn't just a buncha empty rhetoric crap.
The hacking articles aren't really intended for a general audience,
though they've always been a part of what we're about.
Yeah, OXblood is the man. He's in his 40s and works for a communications
consulting firm with a lot of govt. contracts, for real. He's a sharp
guy and helps a lot with our strategisin' and whatnot.
There should be a new release for March and hopefully the audio stuff
will be underway for that... thanks for the submissions and writing, again.
GRatte'/cDc
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An overview to AUDIX voice mail systems
by AT&T - typed by: khelbin (found it in a dumpster)
Definition taken from AT&T DEFINITY Communications System Generic 1 and
Generic 3, 8102 and 8110 Telephones User's Guide (In other words, a small
AT&T manual I found).
AUDIX - n. Audio Information Exchange; an optional voice mail and message
service that provides coverage for calls to you by recording
callers' messages and reporting Leave Word Calling messages.
AUDIX, as you should know by now, is a type of voice mail system. Here is
the log in procedure as shown in AT&T's AUDIX Voice Messaging Quick
Reference guide: 1) Dial your voice mail number. 2) Enter # or extension
and #. 3) Enter password and #.
The initial password is obtained from a system administrator.
While AUDIX is not complex, it does have many different commands. They
are listed below:
Basic Commands:
Help *H
Restart at Activity Menu *R
Wait *W
Transfer out of system *T
Look up name/ext. in Directory **N
Exit system **X
Delete *D
Undelete **U
Hold message in category **H
------------------------------------
Used while addressing:
Alternate addressing
(switch between name/ext.) *A
Use group list *L
Those are the Basic Commands which work throughout AUDIX. The main menu
to AUDIX is known as the Activity Menu. From here, you can select
different options by pressing keys one through seven excluding six.
1. Record Message
2. Get Messages
3. Administer Greetings
4. Check Outgoing Messages
5. Change Password/Administer Lists
7. Scan Messages Quickly
Here is a detailed description of the sub-options you have to select from
after selecting one of the above options:
1. Record Message
If the Record Message option is selected (option 1), you will be able
to record a message to be heard by all calling your voice mail box.
After/while recording it, you may: 1. Approve (*#) 2. Stop/Record (1)
3. Play Back (23) 4. Delete (*D).
2. Get Messages
If the Get Messages option is selected (option 2 from Activity Menu),
you will hear a message summary. Then you may: 1. Listen (0)
2. Replay Header (23) 3. Delete (*D) 4. Undelete (**U) 5. Skip (#)
6. Next Category (*#). You may also respond/forward (1). From there
you can: 1. Reply by Voice Mail -without copy (7) -with copy (19)
2. Forward with Comment (2) 3. New Message (4) 4. Call Sender (0).
3. Administer Greetings
This option is designed so that you (the user/owner of your box) can
have multiple, personal greetings on your mailbox. This means that
you can set up specific greetings (messages) for different types of
calls to your mail box such as internal calls, external calls, busy
and no answer calls, prime-time and out-of-hours calls, prime-time
busy calls, etc. When this option is first selected, you will hear
the greeting number(s) in use. Then you may: 1. Listen (0)
2. Change/Create (1) 3. Scan (2) 4. Activate (3) 5. Call Type (4)
6. Finished ? (*#). When you record your greeting (sub-option 2),
you can 1. Approve (*#) 2. Stop/Record (1) 3. Play Back (23)
4. Delete (*D).
4. Check Outgoing Messages
When this option is selected you will hear a message summary. After
this summary you may: 1. Listen (0) 2. Change/Resend (1)
3. Replay Header (23) 4. Skip (#) 5. Next Category (*#)
5. Change Password/Administer Lists
From here , you can select: 1. Mailing Lists (1)
2. Personal Directory (2) 3. Password (4) 4. Record Name (5)
When Password (4) is selected, you must change it with the following
syntax: Enter <new password> <#> Re-enter <new password> <#>.
From the Personal Directory (2), you can: Create List (1), Summary (2)
Review/Modify (3).
7. Scan Messages Quickly
The following sub-options are available: Scan Headers and Messages (1)
Scan Headers (2), and Scan Messages (3).
AUDIX also has play-back controls that you can use while listening to or
recording messages.
Keypad number Function(s)
------------- -------------------
2 Rewind
3 Play/Pause
4 Louder
5 Back Up
6 Advance
7 Softer
8 Slower
9 Skip
*,0,# Listen/Replay Skip
note: Press 3 to pause and 3 again to continue. Q=7 Z=9
More Info on AUDIX
------------------
Passwords in AUDIX may be up to 15 digits, all of which are in the range
of 0-9, but the default password are usually something similar to the
box number ( box 427, pword 427 or box 427, pword 4427 ). Default
passwords for AUDIX are usually between three and five digits ( usually
four or three from what I've seen ).
If you want complete information on AUDIX systems, see A Portable Guide
to AUDIX Release 1 Version 7, 585-305-709. (I believe you can get this
from AT&T).
Remember, *H always gives you help.
Here's some "Key Words to Know" that I found in the back of a small
telephone manual.. I won't include the REAL dumb ones:
AUDIX - Covered obove.
coverage - Automatic redirection of calls from an unanswered phone to
another telephone. Redirection could be to the extension
of a receptionist, secretary, co-worker, AUDIX, or message
center. A person who provides coverage is a covering user.
enhanced list - One of the 4 types of Abbreviated Dialing lists;
programmable only by the System Manager (and available
only with System 75 Version 3). Contains telephone #'s
useful to all system members, and stores each of those
numbers as a 3-digit list item.
extension - A dialing number of 1 to 5 digits assigned to each phone
connected to your System 75.
group list - One of the 4 types of dialing lists; programmable only by
the System Manager. Contains phone #'s useful to members
of a specific group, and stores each of those #'s as a
2-digit list item.
personal list - One of the 4 types of dialing lists; programmable by the
System Manager or by you, the user. Contains phone #'s
of your choice, and stores each as a single-digit list
item.
switch - The device that makes connections for all voice and data calls
for a network, and also contains software for features. Also
known as a system, switching system, or PBX (private branch
exchange). (Your switch is an AT&T System 75.)
system lists - One of the 4 types of Abbreviated dialing lists;
programmable only by the System Manager. Contains phone
#'s helpful to all system users, and stores each of those
#'s as a 2-digit list item.
System 75 - AT&T switch to which you are connected. It transmits and
receives voice and data signals for all communications
equipment in you network. (Refer to the hackfaq to see what
one looks like and the default pwords. From personal
experience, you can get a trunk if bcust or rcust work. Some
others might work too.)
trunk - A telecommunications channel between your System 75 and the
local or long distance calling network. Trunks of the same kind
connecting to the same end points are assigned to the same
trunk group.
trunk code - A dial code of 1, 2, or 3 digits that you dial to access
a trunk group to place an outside call. (usually 9+number
or 90+number.. sometimes 8+num. or otherwise).
==============================================================================
----------------------
| Beating Restrictions |
| by: Khelbin / 9x |
| khelbin@connix.com |
----------------------
I hate system adminisers who don't want to bother patching any bugs
so they put you in a restricted shell. I also hate when ISPs advertise
that they offer "shell access!" and it turns out to be a resticted shell.
First off, the restricted shell is often named or referred to as
rsh however, there's a program called remote shell often named rsh also.
These are not the same. The restricted shell is often invoked as "sh -r"
or as rsh. It may be different on your platform.
------------------------
Is This Area Restricted?
------------------------
Determining if you are in a restricted shell is very easy. In a
restricted shell, you cannot change directories, redirect output, or change
the environment variables $PATH and $SHELL. $SHELL will be set to 'rsh'.
You also cannot specify a full path to a directory. If you try to do any
of these, you will probably get an error message similar to the following:
$ ls -l > long_list
long_list: restricted
$ cd /usr/local/bin
cd: restricted
-------------
Breaking Free
-------------
The first thing you should check to see is if you have write permission
in the directory that you are dropped to. If you can edit and save a file
in your current directory, you have write permission. If you needed to read
that to know if you had write access or not, you should invest some time in
learning how to read the output of ls.
If you have write access, you can write a shell script to do whatever
unrestricted actions you want. This is because users under rsh can access
programs which have unrestricted access. You can also specify the current
directory as in "./my_script" when calling a program in rsh. By the way, if
you own your $HOME directory, you can chmod on it so you do have write
access. Also, if you do not have access to chmod (many sysadmins who run
sh -r take this out) on your script file, you can try calling sh with the
script file as an argument to it ("sh <script_name>"). I know this does
not work on recent versions of rsh but it's worth a shot.
Ok, so you don't have write permission in this directory. Try running
csh, ksh, bash, tcsh, and all other shell varients. If these programs are
in your path, they will drop you to an unrestricted shell (running sh again
after starting up in sh -r will not break you out). Also try to ftp to
localhost, as yourself of course, (i bet a few of you would have logged in
as anonymous!) and see if you can cd from there.
If you cannot write to your login directory and nothing so far has
worked but you can write to a directory above you, you can still break
free. So long as you do not have to traverse downwards at any point to
get to this writeable directory, you can get past rsh's absolute path
restriction for some reason (at least the implementations i have used).
Just start up your favorite editor and write a little shell script to
do whatever you want. Now save it to "../myscript" or "../../myscript"
or traverse up as much as you have to to get to the writeable directory so
long as you don't come back down at any point. Chmod on it so that it's
executable by you (again using ".." in the path), then run it by giving the
command "../myscript". The lesson here is that sh -r does let you specify
full paths to files so long as the directories within the full path are
either "." or ".." (had to put parenthesis here cuz a period after that
looked funny).
If none of this works, you could try the old ":set shell=/bin/sh" and
then ":shell" in vi but that rarely works. Also you probably won't have
much luck trying to access child shells spawned by other programs through
! commands since most of these rely on your $SHELL. Maybe worth a shot,
probably a waste of time. Without any luck, you'd most likely be better
off finding an exploit/security flaw elsewhere other than in the rsh setup,
getting a better ISP, or rm -rf $HOME.
====----____________________ ________________----====
__________________________
Game Review/Female Masturbation Terms
Game: I-0: Interstate 0, "The Jailbait on The Interstate Game"
Type: Interactive Fiction/Text Adventure
Platforms: Anything that has a zip interpreter, so all DOS, Windoze, BeOS, Unix
Linux, Acorn, Atari, and basically anythign under the sun.
Where: ftp.gmd.de/if-archive/games/infocom/i-0.z5
Well: A short game. An adventure game. A sexually hilarious game. You play
the part of a college women coming home for Thanksgiving and your car
dies. Do you hitchhike? Wait for help? Die? Get naked? Look in your
pants? Masturbate? You will, and the guy who will bring it to you is
is Adam Cadre. This is a really fun little game. Though there are
only a few areas, there is almsot complete control, down to each article
of clothing. Be warned that this game is not for fucking young kids, so
don't let them fucking get it. Yeah. Censor them. It was written in
INFORM, the hacked code that the guys from Infocom used to use, that
means its interpreter is awesome and can understand complex sentences.
No graphics, so use what's left of your imagination. ZIP interpreters
and more .z5 games can be found at the IF-Archive at ftp.gmd.de and also
check out the usenet groups rec.games.int-fiction and
rec.arts.int-fiction if you want to write your own game.... speaking of
that you can get my two horrible games and the new beta from
www.connix.com/~rybread/if.html
Bonus: I got these from the game... Female Masturbation Terms!
splittin' the kitten
dialing zero
tickling the elmo
exploring South America
in single digits
ringing for service
drawing inside the lines
giving yourself the finger
diving into the deep end
taming the lion
playing solitaire
running in circles
stroking the tabby
----
Burro Believes Himself, Takes To Major Film Contract
by ben ohmart
Check other amazing writings by Ben at the below URL.
http://www.rtpnet.org/~jacobs/ohmart.html
----
Mike had just seen Gus because he'd been staring at the tv for 85
minutes. The house looked something like the inside of a Cracker Jack box
and the lumpy piles covered with thick dust that weren't clothes were some
people he'd let stay from the last spring break, or the last 1 he could
remember. The goldfish were dead long ago but the smell didn't matter since
they always kept the cover on. Someone at the flat had a fetish against plates
being licked by dogs after the humans got through with them (some childhood
trauma suffered repeatedly) so they were always clean and Mike got out the
frying pan to heat up while he flopped his porkchops in the flour sack and
brooded over the donkey that could kick hundred yard field goals.
A farming commune of only the finest, wealthiest young people who had
nothing better to do than eat the dirt off the raw vegetables they gathered
from their naturalistic labors. The sky pulled in lungfulls of fresh air, the
nearest house was 3 or 5 miles down the dirt path, and the neighbors were nice
enough to let them share the mailing address so they could still get their
penpal letters, their zines that must Not be glossy - glossy zines, thrown
right out, corporate rubbish! - and catalogs of underground clubs that always
seemed to be printed on tree-free paper, the fact exclaimed in bold print
large enough to consume an entire page of publication.
But no one vegetarian had said anything about the meat in the
refrigerator, Mike had a suspicion that it was because few besides himself
were still alive. The thought tried to haunt him as he went around from
animal to animal, checking the lame pigs, smelling the vile shit-entrenched
hay of the horses, checking them all for the ability to play some type of
professional sport.
Mike remembered how it was only he who ever plucked the sensitive
carrots from the earth's crust, any shopping he'd done got no financial or
verbal support from any of the rest of the crew so that they never even asked
for anything, and he thought 1 at least would've queried for toilet paper of
a different ply. The cow he was currently observing held certain aspirations
in ice hockey, it was true, but the more he experimented, never really fully
on the game anymore with thoughts of lazy roomies hardly dancing like
sugarplums through his head, the more the cow simply seemed to be Eating the
hockey stick from want of food than covering Mike's raw moves, showing those
first few wins as damnable luck only.
The sun was setting and the young man with hard black hair and the
kind of aloof black eyes you could light matches with realized he'd
accomplished nothing with this day. The smell of earth was an ordinary
sensation and perhaps a few bits of veggies would've made a difference to the
rich boy's ego on any other separate occasion but the truth was, he'd had it.
Maybe the real reason it'd been so great before was because the people had
helped. There was a unity of challenge, a thought of seriousness and purpose
drifting through the house that had no central air, but it was all gone and
all pictures of Gus kicking field goals was gone for good too. Furious, the
screen door came off in his hand and it was only 1 more reason to be mad at
these people, he'd have to fix it himself.
Tv was still flickering, same channel but a sappy music like The Love
Boat made a mockery of every curse he wanted to fling. Mike changed his shoes
so the shit wouldn't spread all over the carpet, and went to the first chair
to fling away the dust balls. He turned on a light to try to get it right.
Dirty clothes. The couch. Dirty clothes. He had to stop. Then. Who was doing
the dishes?
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]
[[Please make copies of the below and distritbute!]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]||
==============================================================================
THE ANIMAL SCHOOL:
The Administration of the School Curriculum
with Refrences to Individual Differences
Dr. George H. Reavis
Assistant Superintendent, Cincinnati Public Schools, 1939-48
Once upon a time, the animals decided they must do something heroic to
meet the problems of "a new world". So they organized a school.
They adopted an activity curriculum consisting of running, climbing,
swimming, and flying. To make it easier to aminister the curriculum all the
animals took all the subjects.
The duck was excellent in swimming, in fact better then his
instructor; but he made only passing grades in flying and was very poor in
running. Since he was slow in running, he had to stay after school and also
drop swimming in order to practice running. This was kept up until his web
feet were badly worn and he was only average in swimming. But average was
acceptable in schoool so nobody worried about that except the duck.
The rabbit started the top of the class in running, but had a nervous
breakdown because of so much makeup work in swimming.
The squirrel was excellent in climbing until he devoloped frustration
where his teacher made him start from the ground up instead of tree top down.
He developed a "charlie horse" from over-exertion and then got a C in climbing
and a D in running.
The eagle was a problem child and was severly disciplined. In the
climbing class he beat all the others to the top of the tree, but insisted on
using his own way to get there.
At the end of the year, an abnormal eel that could swim exceedingly
well, and also run climb and fly a little, had the highest average and was
valedictorian.
The prairie dogs stayed out of school and fought the tax levy because
the administration would not add digging and burrowing to the cirriculum.
They apprenticed their children to a badger and later joined the groundhogs
and gophers to start a sucessful private school.
Does this fable have a moral?
this be the line of crap and breaks the rules and it sucks a lot see more letterz
--
How The Spam-Kow was Slain ______ _KOW_ (slain kind)
(A story of trust, lies | | ((___))
and unspeakable parts of |Spam| + [ x x ]
bovine.) | | \ /
|____| (' ')
(U)
--------------------------
By DayEight - Who writes only lies that won't incriminate him!!!!!
It all started innocently enough. I was bored and there was my phone.
So I did what anyone would do and did some hand wardialing of 1-800 numbers.
I decided not to go in any specific order, such as 1-800-666-88XX. What I had
in my mind was a lot more phun, with a capital "P". I was going to do silly
words!
First off was 1-800-REDD-BOX and 1-800-RED-BOXX, both surprisingly
connections, which I would check out later. Next came other fun words like
CARTOON, DIE-NAZI, HACK-ME1, and others with varied results. 1-800-Spam-Cow
was some old guy who would talk to you. Then came the piece of resistance,
inspired my Monty Python, Phonics and the essence of the K-rad: 1-800-SPAM-KOW
My sweaty palm slowly entered the numbers, and it stared to ring,
albeit slowly. An automated voice came on saying that this was no longer a
valid number. But something was wrong. It wasn't the usual Bell Bitch or
AT&T asshole, it was some 20 something guy stumbling through the words. As
if it was an instinct, my index finger fled to the pound sign, and pressed.
That cold, icy, voice we have grown so used to came on and said, "Extension
Please."
Now to be honest, I'm still not sure to this day what type of voice
mail system it was and none of friends have been able to ID it either. Well
it didn't take me too long to find an empty box, but that's not all I found.
It seems the holy Spam Kow was a treasure trove of phreaker's gold. Rejected
passwords would be spit back at you, thus a rudimentary DTMF decoder. Their
was a fax dial-out that was kind of nifty-q. I also found a dial-out.
Unfortunately, it was only for local numbers, and I had no clue to were this
place was located. I may of had free time, but not that much free time.
Also, the other people's boxes had no hint of an accent, so that was no help.
Oh, did I forget to mention that almost all the boxes had retarded passwords?
None were that interesting, 'cept for some bastards who were doing an old
folks home scam. That's a really crappy thing to do. I also found the
admin's box and cracked the password. Not much to do, but I could of had it
call my house every time there was a new message, but that would be stupid.
You could also replace every single prompt with your own, all 300+ of them!
Well, as I've said, I've been on voice mail systems before, but never
one quite like. To send a message to someone's box you had to call up the
number, press pound then 300, which leads you to another prompt to enter the
box you want to message. Took me awhile to figure this out.
Semi-complicated, but secure.
Now, one of the golden rules of voice mail box hacking is "Me see
first, mine!" You know every time you give a fellow hacker your voice mail
number, they'll raid it too see if they can get one for themselves. Screw
that. I'm actually _friends_ with some selected hackers, and they respected
the Spam-Kow as my Sphere of Influence. Imperialistic hacking, c'est vrai?
Later on, I started spending some time on the black hole, a.k.a. IRC,
hanging out in one of the most respectable new hack groups out there, 9x. I
was given access to their Info Line, which many people abused, taking
everything and not giving anything in return. Homey don't play that.
I gave some codes, fun things to try, etc. It looked like all for
naught as Substance, founder of 9x, said not enough people were contributing
and he was going to shut it down. So, I let loose the Spam-Kow, with
instructions.
It happened within 48 hours. Some little puke, who we'll just call,
oh, I dunno, Pixl_drmr, thought spam-kow was really cool and took some
mailboxes. Some may be understatement, he took 30+. Know how I know? He
told me, like he was special or something! Gosh damnit, he didn't just take
empty mailboxes, but ones people owned, so of course Spam-kow would have to
be sacrificed.
I guess I knew that others would take boxes, but I didn't know someone
would be so blatantly stupid. Also, someone else changed all the prompts to
retarded things like "warez rule!" and other stuff. I guess the 9x Infoline
number was a little too popular.
After this ordeal I can now understand a lot better why people are
reluctant to share information, even though patches will be patched and
numbers will be fixed. I have a new voice mail box, and decided to only give
the number to the few I trust, like Khelbin. The 9x Infoline is now,
thankfully, private. As for 1-800-Spam-Kow, call it yourself and see. Kind
of sounds like an ambulance. Remember information should be free, but to who?
[Addendum: Spam-kow no longer makes the cool siren sound as some company
bought it. Drat.]
-
The Hacker: Modern Vampire?
The vampire, in the Victorian Gothic sense, is very much like a
hacker, especially dealing with public opinion. We are talking of the
Stroker's Dracula, not Bunnicula, as we are talking about the hacker who may
not follow the "creed" to a point, yet is not an AOL d00d.
When speaking of the public opinion of vampires, the characters in the
book or those silly Goth Kids with plastic fangs are not counted. No
extremes, just the general public. They are repulsed by the vampire, but most
if not all, are secretly attracted to the this dark creature who simply does
this horrible cannibalistic act for survival. It's vile but natural, the mind
argues. How can evil be assigned? Many, as shown in Anne Rice's Vampire
Chronicles, would rather be a vampire, despite age, race or creed. This
fantasy is lived out to the fullest in these books and have sold millions of
copies because of that very fact, despite the vampire's in the novel itself
verbally abuse vampirism.
Man's desire to be undead did not surface really unto this century.
Chinese vampires, by lore, are green and have cucumbers in their head, and if
anyone looks at any old black and white vampire movies, it can be seen why
they were feared. But tall, dark, handsome, Dracula, was the exception
through all this.
The hacker is like the cool dark vampire, the Dracula, the Lestat. He
does horrible things (decreed by law in this case, not nature) and attempts to
justify them with his creed and thirst for knowledge, as a noble vampire
attempts to do the same, arguing survival and his eternal thirst. There are
hackers who say "screw it", and will card, pirate, hassle and stuff. There
are in turn vampires who will attack the innocent and kill babies. All coin's
have two sides despite what may be printed on them.
The qualifying point of this article is that despite what horrendous
acts a hacker does, he can justify them in his mind, and in turn so can the
public, and though they may criticizes his stature, there is a small part of
their mind's grasping blindly at the hacker's abstract reasoning, and minute
support, even admiration is sparked.
To extend the metaphor, the actual hacking itself is much like a
vampire draining a victim, though they do not echo each other exactly. For
the basic example we will use a VMB as our said hacker's victim. Try to let
yourself paint the generic vampire's mirror of each event. The hacker
discovers the VMB one night, be it by accident, or by word of mouth. He may
gather some information on this system, to see if it is worth his time. Maybe
a check to see who owns it, or maybe asking around to see if anyone else has
claims on it or if it is indeed... a virgin system.
Ah, it is! The hacker again waits till night falls, so no one will
hear his call. His should be careful, dialing *67 at least, but if possible
using extenders or another dialout. He makes sure he to cover his tracks as
not to lead the angry company back to him. He calls. He listens to the
nasally voice. It may have the power over him at the moment, but a smile
covers his thin lips as he thinks about customizing the prompts. He learns
that if presses the asterix he will hit an artery: the directory. From here
he again listens to the voice's insipid instructions as he press 764, for the
first three letters of "Smith". Soon he will find a box or a pattern of box
numbers. He may decide to occupy an empty box, or foolhardily take over an
owned one. He may listen to the messages, and be quick to take down notes.
The night goes on and he still has not found what he is looking for. He goes
to sleep, with twilight at its death.
The next night, another attack, more boxes, more information, more
frustration. The jugular is eluding him. Finally, a box does not forfeit
itself to its own number, or 1234 or any other simple and common password. A
minor obstacle, annoying yet fresh at the same time. The hacker licks his
lips as he sets up a program to crack the code. He goes to sleep.
The next night, armed with the code, he sinks his teeth into the
jugular, the administration box. He goes through more prompts dictated from
the high pitched voice. He plays around. Discovers an outdial. Gets bored
and does something that he should feel ashamed about, for it breaks the hacker
creed, and deletes a user, or maybe just changes the password. Despite all
this, by the third night, he is done with VMB, makes a note of it in
notebook, in his outdial listings, and forgets about it. The system has no
more treasures, and limited use. He has bled it dry, drained its soul, but he
hunger's for more as he goes onto his next system, justifying it all the time
with his thirst for knowledge.
Wow, I made that a lot more difficult then what I had it mind. Umm.
I just think if a hacker follows the/a creed, it doesn't really matter, they
will still be adored or whatnot. Just like a vampire. Thats just how I see
it. Then my brain got rolling on the analogies after "draining" a VMB and it
just mudslid to here. Sorry. Later.
--------
DayEight vs. Cthulhu
or
Those Pesky Elder Gods
PART ONE
---------
I left the glowing the radiation of my screen. I was content that
toneloc would be able to finish the scan without any further assistance.
Silently, I crept toward the refrigerator, with one hand gaping the air ahead
of my as I stumbled through the empty darkness.
I cursed that darkness.
I opened the fridge and was bathed by a tiny yet powerful 60 watt
light.
I cursed that light.
One hand shielded my eyes as the other went searching for the bottle
of Jolt. Seconds later, frustration set in and thought, "screw it", and
stared into the fiery casket for my vital fluid. My Jolt was missing. Not
good.
My fingers pulsed in and out of fist form. The wave of intense and
utter hatred soon passed as plan B was put into action. Vegan Ramen Noodles.
Cost a bit more than 19 cents, but worth it. Those were stored in my safe.
I made a 180 and headed for the safe. Bad news awaited my there also.
I arrived and survey the area. The floor was covered with burn marks and odd
lettering. Worst, the safe door lay open, and its contents were visible. Or
lack of. This unspeakable act could of only been performed by a handful of
people and all the evidence pointed to the same person. Well, elder god.
Cthulhu.
--------------------------------------------2bcontinued-----------------------
Reactions: A Fictional Tale of Body Modification
I lived for reactions. They were the only thing I liked anymore, that
could strike a nerve. Now you might be a tad confused, I mean causing other
people to react, not myself. That sucks when its me. But eating other's
reactions, especially when I was the one that caused them, was a great feeling
that is very much beyond the average power trip, and was head to head with a
control freak's summer condo.
I had seen quite a few freak-out acts, from pierced skulls to having
tags sown into flesh, menacingly reading "Don't remove this tag under
penalty of penal law #631." I liked that one. But I decided you don't have
to go bizarre for good reactions. Subtle ones work very well too.
The flesh molder thought it was odd, my request, but money can ease
the pain of not understanding one's insanity. Technically, it shouldn't of
cost that much money, but since it was bizarre and I wanted plenty of drugs
for the pain, it came to be over three thousand dollars. I think the color
choice is what really pushed the price. That's just not a natural body color,
after all.
Recovering rooms are depressing and they don't let you smoke, so I
left after only one day, first making sure I had purloined a nice amount of
morphine. The body mod didn't hurt that much, but was a bit tender to the
touch. Damn keloids on my ear hurt more.
At home I made out a plan. Stay home a week to let it totally heal,
while popping a morphine pill periodically. And lots of bad, cartoon, movies,
like "Care Bare Cousins" and "My Little Pony Gets Turned Into Glue". I think
I may of eaten some Polly-O String Cheez also, but I'm not sure.
After the week was over, and my morphine supply, I decided to venture
downtown to buy a newspaper. The newsstand was deserted except for Paper Boy
Jimmy, a nice lad. I realized that it must be early as Paper Boy Jimmy was
leaning over a big bundle of papers, counting them to make sure The Man was
not ripping him off. He had been like that since he saw "Newsies". He also
has taken up singing at random intervals. It would be cute, but Paper Boy
Jimmy has been a paperboy for fifty six years. I approached my test subject.
"Hey, Paper Boy Jimmy." Momentarily startled, Paper Boy Jimmy quickly,
regained composure and attempted to spin around in some artsy way. I think
he tore his torso ligaments or something, as he howled with pain, but then
acted as if nothing had occurred.
"Oh, hi Mr. -- Wait...ahem...YOU HAVE A BOOGER ON YOUR NOSE,
IT'S GREEN LIKE A TWISTED ROSE.
PERHAPS YOU'D LIKE A TISSUE,
AND A NEWSPAPER, WELL I WISH YOU
A GOOD DAY AND HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER, BUY ME SOME BOOZE
IF THE MAN KEEPS RAISING PRICES I'LL NEED TO SHINE SHOES!"
At this point I was getting slightly angry, and if it hadn't been for
some lingering morphine deposits, I would of ripped shit. I never wanted to
see Paper Boy Jimmy do a split ever again.
"Why thank you Paper boy Jimmy, may I have a tissue?"
"No."
"Fuck you. Give me a damn tissue."
"O.K." He handed me a single tissue, that was very thin. Damn tissue
nazi.
I wiped my nose, making sure to get that booger. Paper Boy Jimmy felt
compelled to comment on my self-cleaning skills.
"You missed it. Should really get it off, it's very green and nasty."
Again, I made an attempt on that damn booger. I really thrashed
around my nose. Paper Boy Jimmy was now getting a little crazy.
"Damn it, it's right there, hanging off the end of your damn nostril.
The left - your right - nostril. Shit, I'll fucking do it." He withdrew a
wad of tissues from an unseen orifice and started mopping my face. Maybe he
would get that booger.
Nope.
He grew frantic with anger and his steady pulse of face mopping jumped
into sporadic bits of speed and superspeed. Frustration ran rampant. Myself,
I was in a small amount of physical pain, but I writhed in mental ecstasy.
Finally he stopped. He took a deep breath and slowly clamped on the
green protrusion. It turned into a specific pinch, then a small, slow, tug.
It stretched a tad. Didn't hurt, lucky me. He released his grip and let it
slide back. Then suddenly, like a blitzkrieg, he grabbed it with his left
hand, like a sneak attack, and yanked with all his might. Now this hurt more,
and it my booger stretched many an inch, but refused to attach from its host
nostril. Paper Boy Jimmy fell to his knees with a silent gasp, and started
letting his inner child cry. I had decided my test had worked pretty well,
and was pleased with the reaction. However, I was tired, so I threw the two
quarters at the Paper Boy Jimmy, who was now in a fetal position. I grabbed a
newspaper and decided to go home.
My plan had worked well. People can stand and accept hairy moles,
protruding teeth, nasty birth marks, bad acne, and scars as it's not the
individuals fault, or at least they can't help showing it. Tattoos,
piercings, and even to some extent, implants, can be shrugged off as bizarre
but explainable. My mucus implant was different. It was a valid normality
that defied reality, as in that it couldn't be removed. Turning the familiar into
the unknown always works. I made a mental note to go to church tomorrow, or
whenever Sunday was.
That night I slept the sleep of kings. The ones without syphilis.
During this wonderful bout of inactivity, my window was forced open and an
overactive adult stuck in a mental role playing game crept in, humming random
Disney toons. I continued my slumber. He waddled into my room and lingered
over my face. He must of felt like that guy in "The Telltale Heart." The
booger, by chance had been covered my a particularly big piece of dust. It
was totally concealed. Paper Boy Jimmy was confused. He started to leave,
when the fates intervened. A gust of wind came through the said window,
blowing the massive dustial speck off of my booger. Then he saw it. A
gleaming green gem of impossibility. But not for long, he thought. He
withdrew an electric mini-chainsaw, and pulled the chord. He poised. He
struck. He missed. Paper Boy Jimmy had forgotten to wear his Paper Boy
Contact Lenses.
The slash had removed my whole lower jaw and had cut into my brain
stem, leaving my rather dead and mouthless. I had lived for reactions, and
now had died for them, my cause. Does this make me a martyr? Anyway.
Fortunately, the blood sprayed into his already sense-dull eyes leaving him to
stumble around my room and eventually impale himself on his own chainsaw.
While he lay dying he sang the songs from Kurt Weil's "Three Penny Opera".
He had loved when Sting had played Mack the Knife.
The funeral was great. The gave me a real glass jaw! The morticians
must have overlooked my bugger, for when I was lowered six feet under to
rejoin this planet Earth, my tragic flaw, my oblivious undoing parasite,
remained with me.
"
""
--------------------------------- "----------------------------
knowledge |-| <| | ignorance?
--------------------------------=| ----------------------------
Khelbin VS. Connix |__|
[Edz Note: Damn. Double damn. Everyone in CT beware. I myself am still not
sure what to think of this, but this is THE reason that I don't have my mail
come from connix but routed to anok4u2.org, a place where I know it will be
safe. Still undecided about if I should move the web page to geocities or
whatnot, as Khelbin said he believes his short lived h/p web page was a
deciding factor on his "takedown", if you call this crap that.]
(Please forward this to anyone who you think may be interested, especially
people who have accounts on connix)
I have helped connix patch multiple security problems for free (as most of
you know). I also preached how good they were, and as a result, got them
more users.
A few days ago, my account was disabled. The reason, says gwright, is
that I ran the command "find / -perm -04000 -print", which will print out
a list of all SUID files. This command is readily available to all
people, and the man page tells you how to use it in this way. You cannot
learn UNIX unless you try out the commands as such. What's funny is that
gwright knew before that I was looking for files with specific permissions
and I even emailed him a list of wrold-writeable files, many of them
shouldn't have been. When he received this email, he replied "good work,
thanks for keeping us on our toes" but now for some reason, they disable
my account fordoing something which I have been doing for a long time.
Gwright even threatened me with "that is illegal" when it in no way is. I
spoke to a lawyer, although that is not neccessary to see that in no way
using the find command to search for SUID files is illegal.
Gwright told me that "if a bunch of people's doors are wide open, you
don't have the right to go in their houses". Of course I agree with hat,
but is it relevant to this case? Running the find command for SUID files
is in no way like entering someone's house. It's more like walking down
the street and just making a list of which people's doors are open, and
then giving them a call later to tell them to close there doors.
Here is another false statement by gwright (gary wright), "well, you're
really wasting our time having to track down what's going on". Talk about
bullshit! You don't have to track down people using the find command,
c'mon! Also, I've saving them more time than they can imagine. If a
cracker were to get root there and rm -rf / i think that would be
something which really wasted their time.
Well, Connix has admitted that they looked through all my files. I'm sure
they read my mail also. If you want to know the real reason why I was
kicked off, it's because of my web page.
Coincidence that I put up a web page with h/p material and they suddenly
turn on me? I think not. gwright even referred to "some files i had"
when i spoke with him. This is really a blatant case of censorship, which
is just being covered up. Here is email i sent to the admins, I would
hope that all of you be careful as to what you do on connix from now on.
If you are going to have any controversial material on your web site,
please do not attract attention to yourself, as you might find yourself in
the saem predicament I am in (definatly don't have it listed with connix
or even with search engines if possible).
It's really too bad that l0pht doesn't have a dialup around here because
there is an "ISP" that respects their users. I guess I'm going to
probably end up at Ziplink right now. Don't send me email at connix.com,
as it will just be read by the admins or bounced back to you.
------- email follows:
>From philson@scus1.scsu.ctstateu.edu Tue Mar 25 18:27:49 1997
Status: O
X-Status:
Date: Tue, 25 Mar 1997 18:27:45 -0500 (EST)
From: XXXXXXXXXXXX <philson@scus1.scsu.ctstateu.edu> [Khelbin's new email]
To: gwright@connix.com
cc: jhogue@connix.com
Subject: Account Cancellation
Message-ID: <Pine.ULT.3.95.970325180908.8843A-100000@scus1.scsu.ctstateu.edu>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII
Do not bother deciding whther I should get my account back or not. I wish
to cancel it at this time. I have a bill here for a month in which I only
used up 9 of the days, so please direct as to what I should do with it.
The reason for this is quite obvious. I feal that this has turned into a
very awkward situation, and I do not like having someone look over my
shoulder and reading my files and possibly mail.
By the way, I spoke with a lawyer and what I did is *not* in any way
illegal. Their are man pages for the "find" command which will tell you
how to look for files based upon their mode. Learning UNIX requires
learning how to use the commands. I also have an ORA book called
Practical UNIX and Internet Secuirty which says you may want to run that
command every now and then (and you should).
Where do you draw the line? If I can't type "find / -perm -04000 -print"
then can I not type "ls -l|grep s|less" in /bin also? And why are these
files provided for each user if they cannot use them? Their is an online
man page that tells me i can use them in this manner, and so far as I
know, i used that same exact command about 4 times before on connix and
was never reprimanded. gwright, you know that i had been looking for
files with different permissions when i send you a email containing all
the world-writeable files, yet you said "thanks for keeping us on our
toes", not "do not use find! it is illegal or something!".
As I am very security conscious, and I do not want a place where I have an
account to have 20 or more little 12 year old "hackers" running around
reading my mail and causing chaos on the system. This is what I was
trying to prevent, but alas, I could not.
I also thought that after I openly told you about multiple security flaws
which could allow users to re-write html files up to gaining root accesss
that you would be able to see that I am not trying to "break any locks"
but "fix ones that are already broken". If I wanted to break the locks
any further, I could have done so a loooooong time ago, but that is *not*
my purpose.
So please cancel my khelbin account and you can email me here or call me
at 203-XXX-XXXX to get straight what money i owe, if any. I'm sorry it
had to turn out this way, and it's quite ironic as i was such a supporter
of connix not too long ago and got many of my friends to sign up.
----
Well... this has been interesting. Gary Wright tells me my account is
shut off because of running the find command to look for SUID files. He
says they were just looking for someone who was using up disk space and
stumbled upon this process. Sorry... you use a command like "du" or
related to look for disk useage, and it doesn't report on processes, that
command is called "ps".
basically i think i may have caught them in an outright lie, as now their
story has totally changed. they are now saying that i was running program
designed to exploit known bugs and gain unauthorized access but are yet to
tell me what these are. sure i had programs that *could* be used in such
a way on other boxes, but none would work on their box and i did not run
them. they also said that my account was "configured like a hackers".
ummm... i dunno what that means but i'm lucky i didn't make my shell
prompt "w00p!" or they really could have got me on that one!
--
[He kept his sense of humor. Thank cthulhu, as this is hilarious. Took me
a second and a double take to realize that it wasn't real.]
Date: Wed, 26 Mar 1997 13:49:14 -0500 (EST)
From: XXXXXXXXXXXX <philson@scus1.scsu.ctstateu.edu>
To: pyro@connix.com, rybread@connix.com, ons@connix.com
Subject: CERT Advisory!
-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE-----
CA-31337:01
CERT Advisory
March 1997
find vulnerability
- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
There have been several problems or attacks which have occurred in the
past few weeks based on a problem with the UNIX find utility. This
problem is on all platforms which contain a find program. For some
reason, the authors of find, typically your vendor, have included some
code which will actually let you find files based upon a files access
mode, name, file type, or other. It also comes with complete man pages
documenting how to exploit this vulnerability. Exploit details will not
be made available however, anyone with man pages will be able to figure it
out.
How can I tell if I'm vulnerable?
Run the following command: $ find / -type f -name find -print
If find finds the find command, then you are vulnerable. Otherwise, if
find does not report anything, you are ok. Additionally, if find reports
"ksh: find command not found" you are also safe.
In order to patch this hole, you need not implement any patches or chmod
the file. Instead, sit around and look through your user's files and read
their email. Next, disable all your user's accounts and tell them it's
because they were using find in a malicious way. After that, lie to them
again by saying their account was really disabled because they ran a
different command, and this command was SUID! Then tell them "the real
reason is because your account is configured like a hackers and you are
running programs to exploit us!" when they really didn't, but just say it
all the less.
Now that all your users have either left you or been locked out, you have
solved your security problems, especially the find one.
CERT has also noticed that users that have tried to help out their ISPs
with security pose the biggest threat in exploiting this find
vulnerability, so please be wary of them. No matter how many times they
have helped you in the past, they will nail you when it comes to the find
exploit, so kick them off.
One additional note CERT would like to give all admins is that the only
way to gain true security on any machine with the find command that still
has users left is to tell them "do not probe us". That should not only
keep you away from the problems in find, but also any other security
problems, as most cracker/hackers cringe when they hear that from a system
admin.
- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Computer Emergency Response Team (CERT)
Software Engineering Institute
Carnegie Mellon University
Pittsburgh, PA 15213-3890
Internet: cert@cert.org
Telephone: 412-268-7090 24-hour hotline: CERT personnel answer
7:30a.m.-6:00p.m. EST, on call for
emergencies other hours.
Past advisories and other information are available for anonymous ftp
from cert.org (192.88.209.5).
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[end of this saga too... for now.]
I Hate Lauren Saldukas I Hate Lauren Saldukas I Hate Lauren Saldukas
I Hate Lauren Saldukas I Hate Lauren Saldukas I Hate Lauren Saldukas
I Hate Lauren Saldukas I Hate Lauren Saldukas I Hate Lauren Saldukas
Circa 1994 Circa 1994 Circa 1994 Circa 1994 Circa 1994 Circa 1994 Circa 1994
[Rybread's First Zine! The "I Hate Lauren Saldukas Club" files consisted of
about 5 people. We had one meeting. We hated this gap bitch is 7th grade
and actualyl still despise her aristrocratic, fuck-for-status, homophobic,
so-much-make-up-she'd-melt-if-but-next-to-fire face!!! So here are the five
files...be warned, however, they are full of blatant juvy humor and inside
jokes.]
Phile 0:
First we would like to thank YOU, for joining the IHLS club. You will not
regret it. Now look at all the goodies you got!
The "What Shall I Screw
Today" with Lauren is the paper of the year. You will laugh, cry, feel happy
all over, and you can do it in the safety of your own room.
The "Margret Reed Stalking Sheet" is an account of what margret does on the
bus ... to be populaur! It's frightening and imaginative, kinda, well not
really but it's really funny and Oinker is in it!
The "Gena Forde (sp?) Ultimate Insult" is short and sweet. Note: Don't wear
red when insulting her with this insult. We will not be help responsible.
The membership card will be tailored to your needs and wants, you can even
have a code name, and if your lucky we will give you a menail labor that you
can call a job!
We are now working on the first issue of the News Letter "Super-Bitch", and no
it isn't about Shanon Dorety.
ENJOY!
Phile 1:
TTTTT H H EEEE
T H H E
T HHHH EEE GENA FORDE INSULT BOOK:
T H H E
T H H EEEE
"You look like a bull."
NOTE: SAY WITH CAUTION, YOU SHOULD HIDE BEHIND OR IN AN OBJECT WHEN YOU SAY IT
, A BUS IS A REALLY SAFE PLACE TO BE IF THE COMBINED MASS OF EVERYONE ON THE
BUS IS OVER THREE THOUSAND POUNDS, IF NOT THE BUS WILL PROBABLY BE TIPPED OVER
BY HER CHARGE.
Phile 3:
What should I screw today?
1. a wigger
2. a rock
3. a cartoon
4. a wigger
5. someone with 20 dollars
6. Mr. Pascow, cause he promised he'd pass me if I did.
7. a nail
8. a wigger
9. my friends father
10. a girl, to see if I like it!
11. Bud Bundy, he looks cute if you squint
12. a wigger
13. my bestest pal at the moment, Oinker
14. my bestest pal Margret Red, oh I mean Reed
15. telephone (verbal sex)
16. Mrs. Katan, for kinkiness
17. a wigger
18. I would also like to screw John Vinci, alot!
Phile 4:
Margret Reed Stalking Sheet #: 4578632478
---
End
C0NT3ST:
Easy contest with a semi O.K. prize.
What you need to do? Write a 2 line, 78 charecter per line max, description
of beyond lost that covers everything it stands for. What do you win? I'm
going to be purchasing a domain (prolly) soon and I'll give you a forwarded
mail account. Yawn.
Newz in 203 Land.
sc00p has killed his 5th hamster... he says (4th)! YES! 2/4
Jimbean retires 16/2
pfte closes 17/2
khelbin retires 17/2
digiville.net coming soon. bla
digiville.net has come.
Phrack 50 out. Khelbin has small article published in Loopback.
b e y o n d
_ _ _ __ ___ _______ _ _ _ __ ___ ___________
_ _ __ ___ ______|: |_____________________________ |_______
_ _ _ __ ___ ____ |: ___/ __/ __/ _______/
|: |: | |: |: , |: |: |
|: |: |: |: |: |____|: |: |
|: |: |: |: |____ |: |: |: |
|: |: |: |: |: |: |: |: |
|: |: |: |: |: |: |: |: |
_ _ _ __ ___ ____|: |_ |__ |: |__ |: |
i! _ _ _ __ _________________/___________/__________/__________/
Mast Head
Editor: dayeight@geocities.com or the need arises, rybread@anok4u2.org
H/P/A "Guy": Khelbin (philson@scus1.scsu.ctstateu.edu) [Khelbin's new email]
ASCII Logoist: Internal Stalker (internal@connix.com)
Demo "Guy": Space available for column or whatnot. Really want someone here.
Warez Dood: Malaci (I'll continue to mispell your name till an article is
given!
URLS: Text ftp.etext.org/pub/zines/BeyondLost
Slightly HTMLized www.connix.com/~pyro/bl.html
Home www.connix.com/~rybread/beyond.html
Submissions:
If you want to write anything or have an idea for a column or whatever, just
e-mail it me at rybread@anok4u2.org with "submission" in the subject line.
We will print game and app reviews, other zines and URLs. Your own crippled
imagination is the limit.
*thanx to korpse for the openning ascii*
Next Issue:
A game!
Warez stuff, don't ya hate it?!
T-file Group Reviews.
Gelatin Earthquakes!
No Teen Angst!
Beyond Lost 2 (X)APR97
freedomsarebeingeroded
Stupid Win95 Trick That Scoop Posted:
1. Double click on the Start button
2. Hit Alt - (alt+minus)
3. Type M
4. Press an arrow key
5. Now move your mouse around, the start button will follow.
You can even place the button over other buttons.
If you want some more fun, on step 3, type C instead of M, it
will close down the Start button =).
[He got it from this guy I guess --->] Brad Peterson
