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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-- yyy yyy $i$ $i$ yy �������$i$B��4SggggS��4SggggS:::SggggSB��4SggggSB��4SgggySB��4Si$���� yy $::::::::$i$::::$i$i$:::$i$i$:::$i$i$::::$i$i$::::$i$i$::::$i$:::::$ $::::::::$i$::::$i$i$:::$i$i$:::$i$i$::::$i$i$::::$i$i$::::$i$:::::$ $::::::: $i$::::$i$i$"""""`$i$:::$i$i$::::$i$i$::::$i$i$::::$i$:::::$ $::::::: $$...,$�$$,....,`"�"'`$igemini - kennedy.gemi.dev "�s,,s�"`$$::::$gemini - kennedy.gemi.dev "�S...$$:::::$ $:::::::::::::::::::::::::: ,...,s$$:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::$ $ ��������������������������������������������������������������������� $ $ 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 $ $ ��������������������������������������������������������������������� $ $:::::::::::::yy:::::::::yy,,,,,�yy:$�""''''`:$�,,,,,,, .:::::::::::::$ $:::::::::::::$::::::yy:$::::::$:��""""'$`:$::::::yy:::::::::::::::$ $:::::::::::::$::::::$:$::::::$:yy:::::$::$::::::$:::::::::::::::$ $:::::::::::::$�,,,,,$:$�,,,,,$:$�,,,,$::$�.....$:::::::::::::::$ TT ��������������������������������������������������������������������� $ 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.] : ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ : ��� � � ��� � � ���� ���� �� �� (oooh, that : � ��� �� ���� ���� � ��� BGI : look!) : � � � ��� � � � � ��� �� 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). -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.2 iQCVAwUBMiXuH3VP+x0t4w7BAQGD4AP/a2niPn1hVQ7yFojZZb5hsz7irvwEZEkF 8EMjmbCJm+emqluYBTKgT8ebqBCfn99aD8ccNdmOx3GU4G4k8xJDqbdAM76K2G7G uEPbDPYF6AxEdQsGfYqYJ+rjc+5V7yLuo2pkGwtUvI9dKAplkp807EzLGVnRQRjp dpTZeFpP+Wk= =5q5N -----END PGP SIGNATURE----- [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.