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Lite dikter som jag kokat ihop.


When you call for me, when I hear you breath, I get wings to fly, I feel that I'm alive, when you look at me, I can touch the sky, I know that I'm alive...'

Hacker

Another one got caught today, it´s all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in 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 behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?

I´m 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 fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn´t show my work. I did it in my head...

Damn kid. Problaby copied it. They´re all alike.

I´ve made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool! It does what I want it to do. If it makes a mistake, it´s because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn´t like me...

Or feels threatened by me... Or thinks I´m a smart ass... Or doesn´t like teaching and shouldn´t be there...

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-to-day 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, may never hear from them again... I know you all...

Damn kid. Tying up the phone line 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... the bits of meat that 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 us found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the dessert.

This is our world now... the world of electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn´t run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore, and you call us criminals. We exist without skin colors, without nationality, without religious bias.. And you call us criminals.. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us, and try to make us belive it´s for our own good... Yet we´re the criminals...

Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you´ll never forgive me for...

I´m a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop the individual, but you can´t stop us all... After all, we´re all alike.

- The Mentor

Love

Det är kanske inte.

du som är min drömtjej.

Det är kanske inte du som får mig skrika.

Det är kanske inte du som är snyggast i skolan.

Men det är dig jag jämt tänker på.

Det är du som förföljer mig i mina drömmar.

Det är du som har de där söta små läpparna

och de där underbara ögonen.

Det är din varma mjuka kropp

och din närhet jag längtar efter

när jag ligger ensam i min stora säng.