The Hacker's Manifesto, from Phrack Magazine, Volume 1, Issue 7, by "The Mentor," on January 8th, 1986. [I Am a Hacker]
Another one got caught today.
It's all over the papers.
"Teenager arrested after computer crime scandal."
"Hacker arrested after bank tampering."
Damn kids... They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look into the eyes of the hacker?
Did you ever wonder what him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?
I am a hacker, enter MY world...
Mine is a world that begins with school...
I'm smarter than most of the other kids.
This crap they teach us, bores me.
Damn underachiever... They're all alike.
I'm in Junior High, or High School.
I've listened to teachers explain for the 15th time, how to reduce a fraction.
I understand it
"No, Mrs. Smith, I didn't show my work..."
I did it all in my head.
Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool.
It does what I want it to.
If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up.
Not because it doesn't like me...
Feels threatened by me...
Or thinks I'm a smart ass....
Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here.
Damn kid... All he does is play games. They're all alike.
And then it happened... A door opened to a world... Rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins...
An electronic pulse is sent out... A refuge from the day-today incompetencies is sought... A board is found...
"This is it... This is where I belong..."
I know everyone here... Even if I've never met them... Never talked to them, or may never hear from them... I know you all...
Damn kid, tying up the phone lines again... They're all alike.
You bet your ass, we're all alike... We've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak, but the bits of meat you did let slip through, were pre-chewed and tasteless.
We've been dominated by sadists or ignored by the apathetic.
The few that had something to teach, found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... The world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud.
We make use of a service already existing without paying for what would be dirt cheap, if it weren't run by a bunch of profiteering gluttons and you call us criminals.
We explore... And you call us criminals.
We seek after knowledge... And you call us criminals.
We exist without skin color, nationality, or religious bias... And you call us criminals.
You build atomic bombs, lie, cheat, wage wars and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we are the criminals...
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity.
My crime is judging you by what you say and do, not what you look like.
My crime is that of outsmarting you, something you'll never forgive me for.
I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all.
After all... We're all alike.
It's all over the papers.
"Teenager arrested after computer crime scandal."
"Hacker arrested after bank tampering."
Damn kids... They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look into the eyes of the hacker?
Did you ever wonder what him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?
I am a hacker, enter MY world...
Mine is a world that begins with school...
I'm smarter than most of the other kids.
This crap they teach us, bores me.
Damn underachiever... They're all alike.
I'm in Junior High, or High School.
I've listened to teachers explain for the 15th time, how to reduce a fraction.
I understand it
"No, Mrs. Smith, I didn't show my work..."
I did it all in my head.
Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool.
It does what I want it to.
If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up.
Not because it doesn't like me...
Feels threatened by me...
Or thinks I'm a smart ass....
Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here.
Damn kid... All he does is play games. They're all alike.
And then it happened... A door opened to a world... Rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins...
An electronic pulse is sent out... A refuge from the day-today incompetencies is sought... A board is found...
"This is it... This is where I belong..."
I know everyone here... Even if I've never met them... Never talked to them, or may never hear from them... I know you all...
Damn kid, tying up the phone lines again... They're all alike.
You bet your ass, we're all alike... We've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak, but the bits of meat you did let slip through, were pre-chewed and tasteless.
We've been dominated by sadists or ignored by the apathetic.
The few that had something to teach, found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... The world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud.
We make use of a service already existing without paying for what would be dirt cheap, if it weren't run by a bunch of profiteering gluttons and you call us criminals.
We explore... And you call us criminals.
We seek after knowledge... And you call us criminals.
We exist without skin color, nationality, or religious bias... And you call us criminals.
You build atomic bombs, lie, cheat, wage wars and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we are the criminals...
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity.
My crime is judging you by what you say and do, not what you look like.
My crime is that of outsmarting you, something you'll never forgive me for.
I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all.
After all... We're all alike.
36-40, M