E-Mail And Electronic Mail
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The Hacker
By: Kilo Charlie
It was a lonely Saturday night. The wind was howling through the branches of the old oak tree outside my window. The branches swayed back and forth, creating faint tapping and screeching sounds on the glass. And so, I sat It was a night like any other; my music playing in the background and the room was illuminated only by the changing shades of green from my lava lamp. I waited. Suddenly, a came from the system unit of my computer, signalling that it was ready. I sat in my big leather chair, leant forward, and logged on. Immediately, the computer went through a series of programmes, checking the system was operating correctly, and so on. The status bar reached 100% and the computer was now ready for action.
I sat with the bright glare in my eyes. The once room, once light by a perpetually changing shade of green, was now light up with a brilliant sky blue.
“Good evening, Dave. Would you like me to log on to the Internet?” It was a synthesised voice coming from the computer. It was a voice interface I had made by piecing together things my girl friend had said. I had it on the computer to remind me of her, and to give me hope that one day I would see her again.
“Hmm…yeah, log me on.” I said. My voice was grotty and weak. Although I had a voice interface, I rarely spoke, even though I used my computer 24/7, Id normally use the keyboard and mouse. Still, having a voice interface was pretty nifty, but I couldnt help but think that one day, it may not recognise my voice….it was getting worse by the day. The modem clicked.
“Log on complete. Have a nice day.” It said. I almost broke down. I hadnt heard this voice for some time….it brought back memories. I had forgotten what she sounded like…She? My god! Id started to think that this machine was my girl friend. The late nights must be getting to me. I thought
“Thanks.” I said. I could hardly stand it…it felt like there was a rock in my throat; you know the one I mean? When youre upset and you feel like your going cry? Well, anyway, I cracked my knuckles, for no reason what so ever, knowing full well it could give me premature arthritis. , and started typing. When I looked at the clock in the bottom right of my screen, it read 21:30, when I glanced at it again, it was 23:00!
“DEAR SWEET JESUS!!! What the hell have I been doing for the past hour and a half?!?!” I shouted. I looked at my Internet browser window, and found some page about government conspiracies. “Uh huh…so, em, why did I come here?” I asked myself, in a patronising voice. Although I had no recollection of the last hour and a half at all, I decided to “go with the proverbial flow”. I scrolled up and down the page for a bit until I saw something that grabbed my attention…. and no, it wasnt something to do with the Clinton-Lewenski affair, no, this was something far more deadly…
It looked mighty interesting. The heading read “Ion Cannon Tests on the Moon”. Having and insatiable curiosity for weapons of mass destruction ever since my girl friend died (The probable cause of all the hate inside me), I had a gander. Of course, there was nothing in the section, load of lying scumbags cheating my imagination. Never the less, this set back did not deter me. I decide to make a call in the Pentagons web site. And I must admit, even I was surprised to find they had one. I phoned around my friends and told them to log onto the Internet and activate my IP scatter program I had given them all, then to link to my computer. I then stocked up on drinks and food and brought some surplus to my computer, just to nibble on. I activated my server scatter and got ready for business, and cracking my knuckles of course.
The server scatter program made a continuous loop between my friends and