Hacker Chronicles 1/HACKER1.ISO/miscpub1/chapter2.txt

Text File | 1992-09-26 | 21KB | 342 lines

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  ║                             ┌───────────────┐                            ║
  ║                             │ ASSASSINATION │                            ║
  ║                             └───────────────┘                            ║
  ╚══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝

     Suppose you have a mark whose ill temper has created problems for you.
Or perhaps this mark is simply an obnoxious nut whose obsessions have cost you
personally.  A dentist I know spent many unselfish hours working to get
flouride into his community's drinking water as a means of fighting tooth
decay in children.  An apolitical and highly dedicated professional, he was
concerned only with healthcare for the kids in the community.  A hyper,
rightwing zealot jumped on the issue and scared the town council with his
insane babble.  He claimed that flouride was a Communist plot to poison
America's drinking water and minds and that using flouride would lead to LSD
as part of the International Communist Conspiracy.  The timid council voted
"no" on flouride.

     Beside himself, the young dentist said he surely would like to get back
at the rightwing firebrand but just didn't know what to do.  Sighing, he gave
up his fight and put his time back into his practice.  The kids never got
their flouride treatment, and as a result he had a lot of business.  It's too
bad that young dentist never met Maurice Bishop.

     In the hypocritical piety following the assassinations of the sixties,
physical security was supposedly tightened to protect the chief executive
chosen by the power brokers who now control the United States.  A former
law-enforcement official with a probable intelligence background offered an
astounding dirty trick related to this topic.  To protect this source's
identity we'll use the cover name of Maurice Bishop.

     Bishop says that the CIA, FBI and Secret Service all keep a list of nut
cases, radicals, and others who threaten political figures.  Often, these
people are jailed, kept under protective custody, or placed under
twenty-four-hour surveillance by autorities when poltical targets are in the
area.  Bishop's idea calls for theatening telegrams to be sent to the
politician in the mark's name.  At the very least this telegram will bring a
visit by one of the government agencies, and perhaps it will result in a bit
of jail time if the mark loses his/her cool as a result of this dirty trick.

     Bishop says this will also work with state officials, bringing a visit
from state police or some other law enforcement official.

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  ║                             ┌──────────────┐                             ║
  ║                             │ AUTO DEALERS │                             ║
  ║                             └──────────────┘                             ║
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     If an automobile dealership screws you, on either the car, the deal, or
the service, don't get angry--get even.  Wait outside the showroom until a
prospective customer starts talking to a salesperson about the same type of
car you got.  Walk right up to the customer and tell him you woeful story.
The idea is to screw up as many sales as you can (it will cost the dealer at
least $5000 for each screw-up).  Be factual, be cool, and act as if you're an
honest citizen trying to save another honest citizen some money and heartache
--as you wish someone had done for you.  Sincere good faith is the thing here,
because the salesman is going to blow his about the second time you pull your
act.

     When the manager asks you to leave and you don't, he will probably call
the police.  You had anticipated this earlier and alerted someone at the local
newspaper or television station--probably the action-line reporters.
Smalltown media usually won't allow reporters to come--car dealers buy lots of
ads, and you don't.  A regional TV station may show up--if you promise a
confrontation with the law.  So when the manager calls the police, you call
your TV reporter--fun and games for the 6:00 P.M. news.

     If all this doesn't work, wait off the dealer's premises and approach
customers as they leave the showroom.  Tell your story there and then.  Offer
to help them avoid your mistake.  But stay on public property.  And keep after
the action-line reporters.

     If you esculate the attack a bit, show up when the night salespeople are
on duty--they won't recognize you.  Look at new cars; wander around.  Few
salespeople pay much attention to an obvious gawker.  As soon as someone else
or a telephone distracts the salesperson, you can do things to the automobile
right there in the showroom.  A bottle opener is hard on the finish.  See the
file on additives for things you could quickly put into the fuel tank.  If you
could smuggle some in with you, stuff roadkill under a car seat or in the
glove compartment.  Or toss a condom (preferably used) on the front seat.  By
the way, used condoms make wonderful plants in other locations as well, like
the boss's desk, or in a customer's car back in the service shop.

     If you can manage to slip undetected into the service area along with
your bag of sabotage goodies, such as glue, wire cutters, paint, potatoes,
M80s, etc., you can run amok.  Work quietly and quickly.  This sort of
guerrilla warfare can literally wreck a dealer's service reputation.

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  ║                                 ┌───────┐                                ║
  ║                                 │ BANKS │                                ║
  ║                                 └───────┘                                ║
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     It could be time to make your bankroll.  According to Townsend Alexander,
our financial intelligence agent, you can make good money buying some very
cheap foreign coins that are the same size as a quarters.  Get a paper coin
wrapper.  Wrap a few real quarters on the ends but fill the rest of the roll
with the cheapie import coins.  Wrap the roll and with felt-tip pen write some
phony account number on it to add to authenticity.

     Take the roll of coins into the targeted bank.  If you dress like a
business person and go at a busy time, especially with the account number
written on each roll, and the rolls in a bank sack or your briefcase, the
teller will probably give you ten dollars per roll without checking.

     If you could get a banker to tell the truth, he'd admit that they hate
college-student checking accounts.  There's probably a lot of justification,
since most services like this for college students cost far more than they're
worth in return.  However, that's not our problem.

     Suppose you have a gripe with the bank.  Acting as the bank's ad manager,
get in touch with the student newspaper at the school and arrange to run some
ads with banner headlines reading, STUDENTS WELCOME, plus such services as NO
SERVICE CHARGE, FREE CUSTOM-PRINTED CHECKS, INTREST ON THE BALANCE, NO MINIMUM
BALANCE, and so on.  Offer to give away free albums or Walkman radios.  The
day after the "bank's" ad runs they will be swamped with unwanted students,
who are going to be very angry at the bank (and probably at the student
newspaper).

     Modern banks now have cash machines where you insert your plastic money
card and the machine gives you the money.  If that institution or its machine
has become your target, here's a dairyland delight you could easily employ.
Take some tough, hard cheese and cut it the same size and shape as your
plastic card.  Insert the cheese "card" into the slot of the machine and leave
the area.  One banker told me it took a service person nine hours to clean the
machine and get it operating again when someone pulled this stunt in
Baltimore.

     The bank still giving you trouble, or you didn't give them enough?  It's
time to move things up the scale a notch.  Rent a safe-deposit box under
another name.  Pay cash for a three-month rental.  That's all the time you'll
need to collect on this one.  Go to the market and buy a couple of overripe
fish--I'm sure you'll get a bargain price.  Carry them wrapped in plastic in
your briefcase.  Go directly to your safe deposit box.  In the privacy of the
bank's little cubicle, unwrap the fish and lay the big, stinky suckers right
in the safety deposit box.  Close it, lock it, and store it.  Then carry the
fish wrappers, briefcase, and yourself out of the bank.  In a few days your
deposit will gain their intrest.  You'd better do your real banking at another
institution for a while.  It's quite possible bank officials will have to hire
someone to drill the lock on the targeted safe-deposit box to remove the
contents.

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  ║                                ┌────────┐                                ║
  ║                                │ BIKERS │                                ║
  ║                                └────────┘                                ║
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     You're walking along a pedestrian sidewalk, and along come a bicyclist,
churning away his/her spare calories on that nonpolluting transportaion
device.  Within moments you're an involuntary participant in a game of chicken
with that cyclist, who swerves while you weave.  You finally pass each other
in good dodgeum-car fashion.  Maybe.  Wonderful stuff, adrenaline.

     On the other cheek, maybe you've been blindsided by an irresponsible
cyclist trespassing on your pedestrian walk right of way.

     "No more turning the other cheek," is the war cry of Mel Scafe, an
anticyclist who is fighting back.

     "I've declared war on all two wheelers who trespass into my life," Mel
says.  "I'll get the senior citizen bicyclist who forces me off my sidewalk on
the same day I get even with the teenage dirt biker who tears up the hill
behind my home."

     One of Mel's tatics is to toss a length of chain into the spokes of the
dirt bike when it's roaring by.  Instantly, the bike stops going forward while
the rider continues onward until gravity takes over.

     "I've also used a wire cutter to snip the spokes on a bicycle whose owner
has done me a disfavor," Mel relates.  "That'll cause a real collapse in his
biking game."

     Another time he spread a large patch of grease on the path used by dirt
bikers.

     He can't even estimate the pounds of air he's released from captivity in
bike tires.  He's used all the nasty engine additives mentioned in another
file for these machines that disturb his world.

     "I liked that Burt Reynolds movie where the truck driver drove his rig
over all those goddamn motorcycles," Mel grinned.  Turning seriously, he
added, "I've thought about the old World War II trick of stretching piano or
barbed wire across a trail or bikeway, but I think that could be fatal, so I
don't really do it."

     "If there were some way I could totally kill the damn machines and only
embarrass the people a bit I'd surely like to hear about it.  Until then I
will stick to the old standards that have worked for me so far."

     He adds, "I know people may sneer at me for being mean to kiddies on
their bicycles, and I know bicycles are an in thing today.  But maybe if those
young riders learn some manners early and stay the hell off pesestrian
walkways, they might grow up to be decent people."

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  ║                                 ┌───────┐                                ║
  ║                                 │ BOOKS │                                ║
  ║                                 └───────┘                                ║
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     Did anyone ever borrow a book from you and not return it?  Our private
library consultant, Roberta Russell, has a suggestion with an air of financial
finality behind it.  For the first step, a printer should make you about three
or four dozen bookplates, all featuring your mark's name and address, plus the
legend, "If this book is lost and you find it and return it, I will pay you
$10 cash."  Your next step is the local Goodwill Industries, a local thrift or
second-hand shop, or a garage sale for books.  Buy two or three dozen used
hardcover books.  You buy them as cheaply as you can, but they'll cost your
mark plenty.  Your next step is to paste on the bookplates and distribute
these books--at the beach, on park benches, in a bus or subway, or in a bar or
restaurant.  The final step is for you to enjoy a good chuckle at your mark's
expense, as people find the "lost" books.

     If your mark has a fine library, you might consider introducing it to
silverfish.  They love good books; in fact they will devour them.  If you feel
this nasty, you probably already know where to get silverfish and their eggs.
This one bothers me, though, since I love good books.  Maybe there's a better
way.  Perhaps you could put an earwig in you mark's bed pillow.

     Why not give your mark the image of a philathropic person?  Donate books
in his/her name to the local library, but without either party's knowledge.
Buy a bunch of really scuzzy porno paperbacks, especially the colorfully
illustrated ones from Denmark--the more grossly hardcore, the better.  Your
printer will produce some paste-in bookplates that say something like this,
"This book donated to the [Name] library by [Mark's name] in loving memory of
all the sweet children of [Town name]."  Paste in the bookplates and sprinkle
the donated books around the local library.  Put some in the children section,
and others in the religion books.

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  ║                                ┌──────────┐                              ║
  ║                                │ CAMPUSES │                              ║
  ║                                └──────────┘                              ║
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     Not everyone is hibernating on college campuses.  Although it's true that
many students have become docile zombies, lobotimized by lethal doses of
television and the bureaucracy of the educational system, there are a few live
ones.  At an eastern university, a number of students got upset with the rent
gouging of a massive corporation acting as an absentee landlord for private
off-campus dormitories.  After getting nowhere appealing to an untesticled
school administration, and after being ignored by a housing inspector and a
city council belonging to the same social class and clubs as the corporate
landlords, the students held a pizza party.

     The unusual part was the the pizza party was held in the clothes dryers
of the dormitory laundry rooms.  One particpant reported, "We dumped a couple
of really gooey pizzas in each dryer, put in the coins, and turned them on."

     Try cleaning up that one!

     Epilogue:  The corporate landlord and his student tenants settled their
problems shortly after the party, totally to the satisfaction of the young
protestors.

     Professor James Shannon claims that college students of the past had
heinous imaginations.  Today, of course, many students are content merely to
move around enough to prevent roots from forming on their contact surfaces
with the ground.  Professor Shannon suggests that if you have a teacher you
don't like, and he/she lectures from a desk or podium on a raised platform,
you move the stand so its legs are barely balanced on the front edge of the
platform.  When the academic leans forward on the structure ever so slightly,
it will come crashing forward.  With any luck the pedagogue will land on top
of it.

     At an eastern university, two looser colleagues filled a humorless and
bookish faculty member's office closet with several large and irritable geese
one evening.  The professor was in the habit of arriving quite early for 8:00
AM class, early enough so that the hasty-tempered birds would just be
awakening.  When he opened the closet door they woke up and became badly
aggressive really fast.  Eyewitness reports left no doubt whose feathers were
ruffled most.

     This will be truly appreciated only by those privy to the pettiness of
academia:  Other colleagues of this same professor sometimes send truly
pedantic, nasty, personal, and vindictive memoranda to various other faculty
members, deans, etc., in the name of their priggish colleagues.

     On one occasion they sent really nasty letters to the parents of a few of
this faculty member's students, giving the poor folks hell for daring to
produce such genetic drift as their kids, much less turning them loose on a
college campus.  The school's PR people had a terrible time getting out from
under that one.  As for the mark, the dumb schmuck had no idea why so many
people disliked him.  But please take his colleagues word for it--he deserves
every bit of it.

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  ║                                ┌─────────┐                               ║
  ║                                │ CARBIDE │                               ║
  ║                                └─────────┘                               ║
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     Having been brought up around hunters and miners, I learned all about
carbide lamps and carbide fishing early.  Working on my grandfather's farm, I
learned about carbide bombs.  Let me explain some things you might find
useful.

     When calcium carbide is exposed to air and water it produces a gas that
will kill small animals.  Farmers often pour it down gopher, rat, or groundhog
holes, then dump in some water and put a rock over the hole.  The animal is
gassed to death.

     A lot of poor people used to fish with carbide with the same efficiency
with which legions of GIs fished with hand grenades.  Simply toss a pound or
two of carbide into a can and seal it, but be sure to punch a few holes in the
lid.  Toss it into a pond.  The results can play havoc with your mark's fish
pond or fancy goldfish pool or an indoor aquarium.  Water and carbide can
produce an explosion.

     Some of the nastier kids used to place amounts of carbide into the
toilets at our school.  The idea was to place the carbide bomb in the toilet,
leave a lighted cigarette on the seat, and run like hell.  The carbide would
combine with the water to produce a huge cloud of noxious gas, which would
explode when it hit the lighted cigarette the perpetrators left behind.  This
little homemade bomb did more damage than an M80.

     Tim Bell, who later became a Special Forces NCO in Vietnam, explains, "We
had a kid bully whom no one liked--a real prick.  He always went to the john
after fourth period to sneak a smoke.  So two of us went in right after him
and laid a carbide bomb in the water in the next stall.  We were about a
hundred feet down the hall when the damn thing went off."

     At this point, Tim burst into a wild laughter.  I was able to learn, though
, that the bully had his legs burned and cut by flying porcelain, bit
his tongue badly, was knocked violently off the throne, bruising his ribs
against the steel wall of the stall, and was deafened for nearly twenty-four
hours, all by the force of this carbide explosion.  With that kind of
background as a high school kid, it's no wonder Tim Bell made a good Special
Forces trooper.

     Are there more adult uses for carbide?  Some sixties semi-terrorists used
to dump a pound or so into the toilets of corporate offices and government
buildings, flush the mess into the system, and walk away briskly.  Enough of
the stuff could get very dangerous, considering the possible backup of gases.
A combination of water and carbide has been fed into the ventilating systems
of various corporate and government buildings, also by semi-terrorists who
wish to harass the resident bureaucrats.
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