Underground: Tales of Hacking, Madness and Obsession from the Electronic Frontier by Suelette Dreyfus Page B
Authors: Suelette Dreyfus
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friends. But after that incident, Bowen decided to tighten security around his personal details even more. He began, in his own words, ‘moving toward full anonymity’. He invented the name Craig Bowen, and everyone in the underground came to know him by that name or his handle, Thunderbird1. He even opened a false bank account in the name of Bowen for the periodic voluntary donations users sent into PI. It was never a lot of money, mostly $5 or $10, because students don’t tend to have much money. He ploughed it all back into PI.
People had lots of reasons for wanting to get into the Inner Sanctum.
Some wanted free copies of the latest software, usually pirated games from the US. Others wanted to share information and ideas about ways to break into computers, often those owned by local universities.
Still others wanted to learn about how to manipulate the telephone system.
The private areas functioned like a royal court, populated by aristocrats and courtiers with varying seniority, loyalties and rivalries. The areas involved an intricate social order and respect was the name of the game. If you wanted admission, you had to walk a delicate line between showing your superiors that you possessed enough valuable hacking information to be elite and not showing them so much they would brand you a blabbermouth. A perfect bargaining chip was an old password for Melbourne University’s dial-out.
The university’s dial-out was a valuable thing. A hacker could ring up the university’s computer, login as ‘modem’ and the machine would drop him into a modem which let him dial out again. He could then dial anywhere in the world, and the university would foot the phone bill.
In the late 1980s, before the days of cheap, accessible Internet connections, the university dial-out meant a hacker could access anything from an underground BBS in Germany to a US military system in Panama. The password put the world at his fingertips.
A hacker aspiring to move into PI’s Inner Sanctum wouldn’t give out the current dial-out password in the public discussion areas. Most likely, if he was low in the pecking order, he wouldn’t have such precious information. Even if he had managed to stumble across the current password somehow, it was risky giving it out publicly. Every wanna-be and his dog would start messing around with the university’s modem account. The system administrator would wise up and change the password and the hacker would quickly lose his own access to the university account. Worse, he would lose access for other hackers--the kind of hackers who ran H.A.C.K., Elite and the Inner Sanctum. They would be really cross. Hackers hate it when passwords on accounts they consider their own are changed without warning. Even if the password wasn’t changed, the aspiring hacker would look like a guy who couldn’t keep a good secret.
Posting an old password, however, was quite a different matter. The information was next to useless, so the hacker wouldn’t be giving much away. But just showing he had access to that sort of information suggested he was somehow in the know. Other hackers might think he had had the password when it was still valid. More importantly, by showing off a known, expired password, the hacker hinted that he might just have the current password. Voila! Instant respect.
Positioning oneself to win an invite into the Inner Sanctum was a game of strategy; titillate but never go all the way. After a while, someone on the inside would probably notice you and put in a word with Bowen. Then you would get an invitation.
If you were seriously ambitious and wanted to get past the first inner layer, you then had to start performing for real. You couldn’t hide behind the excuse that the public area might be monitored by the authorities or was full of idiots who might abuse valuable hacking information.
The hackers in the most elite area would judge you on how much information you provided about breaking
People had lots of reasons for wanting to get into the Inner Sanctum.
Some wanted free copies of the latest software, usually pirated games from the US. Others wanted to share information and ideas about ways to break into computers, often those owned by local universities.
Still others wanted to learn about how to manipulate the telephone system.
The private areas functioned like a royal court, populated by aristocrats and courtiers with varying seniority, loyalties and rivalries. The areas involved an intricate social order and respect was the name of the game. If you wanted admission, you had to walk a delicate line between showing your superiors that you possessed enough valuable hacking information to be elite and not showing them so much they would brand you a blabbermouth. A perfect bargaining chip was an old password for Melbourne University’s dial-out.
The university’s dial-out was a valuable thing. A hacker could ring up the university’s computer, login as ‘modem’ and the machine would drop him into a modem which let him dial out again. He could then dial anywhere in the world, and the university would foot the phone bill.
In the late 1980s, before the days of cheap, accessible Internet connections, the university dial-out meant a hacker could access anything from an underground BBS in Germany to a US military system in Panama. The password put the world at his fingertips.
A hacker aspiring to move into PI’s Inner Sanctum wouldn’t give out the current dial-out password in the public discussion areas. Most likely, if he was low in the pecking order, he wouldn’t have such precious information. Even if he had managed to stumble across the current password somehow, it was risky giving it out publicly. Every wanna-be and his dog would start messing around with the university’s modem account. The system administrator would wise up and change the password and the hacker would quickly lose his own access to the university account. Worse, he would lose access for other hackers--the kind of hackers who ran H.A.C.K., Elite and the Inner Sanctum. They would be really cross. Hackers hate it when passwords on accounts they consider their own are changed without warning. Even if the password wasn’t changed, the aspiring hacker would look like a guy who couldn’t keep a good secret.
Posting an old password, however, was quite a different matter. The information was next to useless, so the hacker wouldn’t be giving much away. But just showing he had access to that sort of information suggested he was somehow in the know. Other hackers might think he had had the password when it was still valid. More importantly, by showing off a known, expired password, the hacker hinted that he might just have the current password. Voila! Instant respect.
Positioning oneself to win an invite into the Inner Sanctum was a game of strategy; titillate but never go all the way. After a while, someone on the inside would probably notice you and put in a word with Bowen. Then you would get an invitation.
If you were seriously ambitious and wanted to get past the first inner layer, you then had to start performing for real. You couldn’t hide behind the excuse that the public area might be monitored by the authorities or was full of idiots who might abuse valuable hacking information.
The hackers in the most elite area would judge you on how much information you provided about breaking
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