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# 1986-The-Hackers-Manifesto
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# The Hacker's Manifesto
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By The Mentor (a.k.a. Loyd Blankenship) on January 8, 1986
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## The Conscience of a Hacker
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By The Mentor (a.k.a. Loyd Blankenship)
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Written on January 8, 1986
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Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers.
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"Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after
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Bank Tampering"...
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Damn kids. They're all alike.
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But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's
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technobrain ever take a look behind the eyes of the Hacker? Did you ever
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wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded
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him?
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I am a Hacker, enter my world....
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Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most
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of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...
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Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
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I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain
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for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms.
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Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."
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Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
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I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second,
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this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's
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because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me...
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Or feels threatened by me...
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Or thinks I'm a smart ass...
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Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...
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Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.
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And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing
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through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an
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electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies
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is sought... a board is found.
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"This is it... this is where I belong..."
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I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked
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to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
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Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
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You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby
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food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you
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did let slip were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by
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sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had somthing to
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teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in
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the desert.
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This is our world now... the world of the electron and the
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switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of the service already
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existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by
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profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you
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call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals.
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We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religous
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bias... and you call us criminals.
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You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and
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lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the
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criminals.
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Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is
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that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like.
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My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me
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for.
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I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual,
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but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.
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----
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Published in: Phrack, Volume One, Issue 7, Phile 3 of 10
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