Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 1:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Please read the README.1ST file before proceeding.)

Editor: mE!

 Welcome to Issue 1 of Ubiquitous, a new Australian E-Zine
aimed at the computer underground. My reasoning for producing yet 
another E-Zine is because I'm sick and tired on seeing zines 
(especially Australian ones) go up and down all the time never 
usually producing more than one or two issues. How about the 
American scene? Phrack never gets published any more, neither 
does CoTNo or a million others I could mention. WHO  CARES anyway 
the underground scene is shot to shit and recent zines are simply 
a reflection of this state of affairs. So am I here to save the 
day? Yeah right!! Not without feedback and input from the rest of 
you I'm not; a magazine like this (being irrelevant of who the 
fuck is publishing it) could have the potential to give the 
underground a kick in the arse and bring back the free thinking 
inquisitiveness and antiauthoritarian sentiment of days where 
groups like the Legion of Doom ruled supreme.

So what is it all about?
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 First of all what does Ubiquitous mean? Hmmm! The best way 
to describe that is to quote the Australian Pocket Oxford 
Dictionary:

   ubiquit | y n. omnipresence, being everywhere or in 
an indefinite number of places at once; ~ous a. [L (ubique 
everywhere)]

 Ok so that's the dictionary meaning so what does it mean in 
terms of the Computer Underground? Well just like the government 
is watching us from every angle, seeming to be everywhere, this 
is the same tactic we need to keep a little freedom for 
ourselves. Our presence needs to be  UBIQUITOUS!! If you don't 
understand what the fuck I'm on about, then forget it and just 
read on.
 The Zine will cover general Hacking and Phreaking related 
topics, but won't simply stop there. I hope to cover how we, and 
the government and many other entities have an effect on society, 
and indeed the whole of humanity. It will also stray from H/P 
related matters and even the computer underground occasionally, 
looking at the broader effects of the human races seemingly 
desperate insane desire for power over each other. With that 
said, lets look at what it will NOT include. There will be NO 
racism or pathetic attacks on other minority groups. This zine 
will attempt to operate without fear or favour towards people of 
any fucking nationality, sex, race, colour, religous belief, 
preference of sex, computer, or breakfast cereal for that 
matter!! And NO I'm not trying to be fucking politically correct, 
I just want to open this zine up for everyone. Ok secondly, there 
won't be any bullshit conspiracy stories (about the NSA selling 
cows testicles in sausages etc!!) which have NO reasonable 
backing. I don't mind opinions of such things if it can be backed 
up with QUALITY evidence, but none of this bullshit X-Files crap
OK!! Finally I will try to avoid defaming any person or entity 
without evidence or without stating that the comments are of my 
opinion and not necessarily of provable fact. You will get the 
general gist of this zine as time goes by and you will know the 
general structure of it and what it stands for. (Free thinking, 
privacy, and freedom of information/speech.) OK , on with the show.
(I assume you have read the README.1ST file. If not READ IT NOW!
 you are not authorized to read this unitl you do!!)

Editorial:
=-=-=-=-=-=

 Doesn't it make you puke all this bullshit that seasoned 
computer users have to put up with. Remember the old days (when I 
say old days, I merely mean around 3 years ago!!) when the 
Internet was a self regulating, non central entity? Remember how 
you could read news and not have to wade through a whole heap of 
right wing or religous bullshit just to find the articles you 
wanted to read? How about the fact that the TCP/IP connections 
weren't absolutely clogged up with the millions of new lamers who 
use the net now. Or should I say TRY to use the net!! I can 
remember the good old days of ftp'ing a file and receiving it the 
same day!! How about when there were no crappy trendy terms 
like: "Information SuperHighway!" (oh god I think I'm gonna be 
sick!!), or "Surf the Web" or every word having fucking "CYBER" 
in front of it!! 

 Remember those days? I do. I remember the time when AARNET 
was what it actually claimed to be: The Australian Academic and 
Research Network. Now its run by Telstra who are in bed with the 
likes of Bill Gates and Rupert fuckhead Murdoch. That free 
network which encouraged freedom of speech and ordered anarchy is 
gone. What has replaced it is a mess of bungling losers and
commercial service providers (ISP'S) who don't know the difference 
between telnet and telenet!

 You'd better remember those days, cause we won't see the likes of
them again. Information is trendy and not the free commodity it 
used to be.


C O  N  T  E  N  T  S  :
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


 1......Introduction, Editorial, Contents. (This file you dork!!).
 2......Cray claims firsts in New Parallel T3E Machine.
 3......Zapping free phone calls.
 4......A warning to all Internet users.
 5......Simple shit on UNIX.
 6......Your guide to free vending machine services.
 7......Commandeering Optus Voice Mail Boxes.
 8......An Introduction to Australian telephone exchanges.
 9......Classic Texts - The Bastard Operator from Hell.
 10.....The End (Final Comments!)

- End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 2:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(See http://apt.usa.globalnews.com/unigram for more details on
Unigram.X) about the new Cray T3E parallel processor. In brackets 
are comments by myself :-)


Cray claims Firsts in New Parallel T3E Machine.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    Cray research Inc has duly unveiled its new Cray T3E
scalable parallel processor and claimed $92m (fuck!!!) in advance
orders for the system. The Digital Equipment Corporation Alpha
RISC-based machines scale to 2,048 processors for a theoretical
peak performance of 1.2 TFLOPS (jesus fucking christ!!); the
entry price is lowered and upgrades can be made in smaller
increments than with the T3D. It comes with a new Unicos/mk Unix
System V-derived operating system and GigaRing scalable
input-output and networking channel, which will also be moved
into Cray's current and future supercomputers and even it's
business servers. Cray claims Unicos/mk is the first truly
scalable operating system: the single operating system has a
series of microkernals which are distributed across the system.
It is designed to provide a single image and coherent view of all
system resources for users and system administrators. Within the
operating system, local "servers" process requests local to each
processor, while global servers process system-wide requests.
Where other vendors require a new copy of the operating system to
be installed on each new node when a machine is expanded,
Unicos/mk only needs to be told the new number of processors. The
GigaRing channel is described as the key component in the
high-speed input-output and networking subsystem, with "virtually
unlimited" capacity to store and move data into and out of
systems at a peak speed of up to 128 Gigabytes per second,
supporting Petabytes - millions of Gb - of disk capacity.
The GigaRing, based on the Scalable Coherent Interface, is a
bi-directional, dual-ring channel providing high-bandwidth
connections in excess of 800 Megabytes per second. Users are able
to add input-output capacity to the system as it is needed. It
supports distances of 35 feet between nodes, 600 feet with an
optical channel option. The T3E machines range in price from
$900,000 (A bargain!!) to $45m (not sure whether this is Aussie
or American Dollars!). As it did with the T3D, the Pittsburgh
Supercomputing Center will get the first T3E, in March.


(Yeah and I'll bet the fucking NSA are next on the bloody list!!
Bastards!!)

- End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 3:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a file I typed up years ago. It still works and most of you should
know about it but I included it for those of you who don't.

             Zapping Free Fone calls:

                  Now I suppose you are all thinking - not another
             fucking lame text file on getting phree fone calls, well
             maybe, maybe not. But the method I am to discuss I have
             never seen mentioned b4. Could be that I have been looking
             in the wrong places but whatever the reason I decided to
             type up this text phile in the hope that it will benefit
             all humankind.....

                                 .....except TeleScum!


                  To do this all you need is a spark zapper. Something
             like the gas igniters found in a household gas hot water
             service. Basically they need to produce a heavy voltage to
             work. They are available at places like KleenHeat gas.
                  Ok, so you've got the thing, what now? Well
             unfortunantly this only works on the old green fones so you
             gotta keep a sharp eye out for the bastards as they are
             getting rarer and rarer each day. The best place to find
             them is in poorer areas, especially industrial areas. Don't
             waste your time in tourist type places.
                  Once you have found your green fone open the door and
             enter closing it behind you as the sound of the zapper can
             attract attention. Now lift up the reciever and listen for
             the dial tone. Now these zappers can hurt like fuck if they
             send a good dosage of current through you so be careful
             that NO PART of your body is touching anything metal -
             especially your arse. In fact try to keep as far away from
             anything metal at all. If you happen to be a fat bastard
             then I suggest you get someone else to do it or just don't
             be a wimp and put up with it - fuck man when you eat so
             much that it is preventing you from phreaking then you've
             got problems bud.
                  Right enough of the bullshit what the fuck am I
             supposed to do with this bloody zapper thing? Well I'm glad
             you asked. It's a bitch at first and you may not get it the
             first time but you have to zap the living shit outta the
             fone, by putting the end of the zapper on the mouth or ear
             piece and going sicko with the thing. (Be careful holding 
             mouth piece. Don't come into contact with the metal rivet
             on the other side).
                  You may hear the fone go clunk if that happens then
             hang up the phone and start zapping again. Keep zapping
             until you don't hear the clunk. (Around twenty zaps is
             required but it varies from fone to fone). Now, holding the
             fone up to your ear, press the hang up lever, it should NOT
             do anything. If you still hear the dial or engaged tone and
             does not make that beeping sound and hang up, then you can
             congratulate yourself on having defeated the fone's coin
             system! :-) Just dial your number (Local,STD,ISD) and you
             will get through no sweat. Whenever you want to hang up
             dial a number (dosen't matter which one) and release the
             dialing ring VERY SLOWLY. You should get the dial tone
             back. When you have finished with the fone, just hang up
             the fone and about ten seconds later the phone will go
             clunk and will be back to normal. IT'S THAT EASY!

             Some words of warning:

                  First of all most fones hold a maximum of
             approximately eighty bucks depending on what coins have
             been used on that particular fone. It is going to look a
             bit odd to Telescum when that fone has registered as making
             hundreds of dollars worth of fone calls. They may first
             blame it on a computer error, but if it keeps happening
             they will raise more than a few eyebrows and may have the
             fone traced or an STD ISD bar put on it. The safest bet is
             to move from fone to fone. There was one dickhead who was
             phreaking those blue fones who got a phree ride down to the
             local pig shop when he used the same fone too often and the
             feds watched the fone! (To phreak the blue fones stick a
             piece of metal small enough into the keyhole in the side of
             it and turn it - the fone should now dish out phree calls!!)
                  Secondly if you use the same fone often enough the
             fone will not clunk back to normal and anyone can dial the
             dialer really slowly and get phree calls further alerting
             Telescum that something is wrong. Or stupid people might
             find the fone out of order a report it to Telescum. One way
             or another it is not a good idea to overuse the fone so
             these things can even happen.

             How it works:

                  How the phuck can zapping the shit out of a fone get
             you phree calls I hear you ask. Well that's easily answered.
             Relays and switches are very sensitive to large currents;
             what normally happens is the coin falls and the weight of it
             activates a switch which grants a credit of X dollars. When
             you induce a huge current it forces the relay switch over
             at high speed totally by passing the fone's coin system
             putting the fone at the mercey of the phreaker. Pretty
             fucking neat eh? (Note this process works with some arcade
             games as well!)

                  Well I hope you find the phile of use. Have fun and 
             for fuck sake don't get caught. If you do, don't lag your 
             collegues in. (As a rule of thumb if you aren't under arrest 
             say NOTHING if you are demand legal representation!)

             mE!
             
             (BigBrother is watching you!)

             - End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 4:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New TCP/IP software (mainly sendmail) that can identify a user on a
calling system. Typed by mE!
(I will write more about this when I find out more!)


                             W A R N I N G
                             =-=-=-=-=-=-=

NEW TCP/IP sotware developed, is now in use that can not only determine
the originating host, but the fucking user as well. This is a scary
thought for all hackers. I first came across this in the sendmail program
(telnetting to port 25). I typed "HELO" as you do and instead of getting
something like:  hello <myhost.mydomain.edu.au> pleased to meet you. I 
recieved something along the lines of:  

		hello <MYUSERNAME@myhost.mydomain.edu.au>

Fuck me they can identify the actuall user as well as the host. I tried
this from a VAX mind you!! NOT as common as unix on the Internet but the
remote system still managed identify me!! I am still looking into how they
do it, but I assume the called host telnets back and does a user enquiry
on your host and finds out who on the system is telnetting out to that 
host. (When you telnet to a host your user info is NOT SENT so therefore
it has to connect back to the host somehow to be able to get this info.)

I will write a bigger file when I find out more about this. Till then, watch 
what the fuck you do and where you do it from. IE don't go and hack the 
living shit out of anything around. (If you are using a hacked account then
that is a different story, however for fuck's sake put a bit of distance
between you and the site (both local and remote sites if possible!!).
In other words divert your calls, use outdials, university terminals,
other phone lines, blue box, or if possible go though a few x.25 or internet
outdials. Basically if you use your common sense you should be cool.

mE!

- End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 5:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simple Shit on Unix - By Joe Lunchbucket:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Unix is a pretty standard operating system. You can find a unix implemenation
for just about any platform, ranging from your basic IBM PC, to a state of 
the art SUN Workstation.  These different systems have little in common, 
except for the operating system they use: Unix.

In general, unix systems are all the same. The same set of basic commands,
the same software, and the same routine for hacking them. The following is
a short list of some of the most basic and obvious flaws/openings in unix.
Not all of them will work on your system - maybe most of them won't. The main
thing is that some of them _will_.


ECHO
~~~~
The echo command is usefull for sending messages. When a user is logged in,
he is assigned a device for screen output - usually reffered to as a tty.
These devices are located in the /dev directory, and are often left writable
to the general public. Pick out an unsuspecting user (preferably someone you
can keep an eye on), find out what tty they are on (through finger or ps), 
and type the following:

~.> echo "Big Brother is Watching You." > /dev/ttyxx

Where ttyxx is the tty they are on. If it works, you wont see anything at
all.  What they will see is the message "Big Brother is Watching You." 
on their screen regardless of what they are doing.

If this works, the next one may be more interesting...

CAT
~~~
Cat is the basic command to send a phile to the screen. Cat can be used just
like echo, only instead of sending one line, it send a whole phile! Create
a test phile by typing something like this:

~.> cat - > temp.txt
Message from root@mysystem (Root Operator) at 12:34pm:
Your account is about to be suspended - please log out immediately or
face criminal prosecution
^D

The control-D finishes of the phile. Then just send the phile to some dumn
fuck victim like so:

~.> cat temp.txt > /dev/ttyxx

They will see the message, shit 'emselves and if they are nice little people,
log out. :-) See my point? You could just as easily start a war between
two lusers by doing something like:

~.> cat - > /dev/ttya1
Message from joe@mysystem (Joe Lunchbucket) at 12:34pm:
Hey! Fuck you! I just fucked you mother! I hear you are a fucking wimp, so
why don't you come over here and prove it, you chickenshit bastard!
^D

With a bit of luck, the guy on ttya1 will go over and beat the living shit
out of Joe. (Note: Works best if you pick a little nerd for Joe, and a big
dude for the recipient...)


UTMP
~~~~
The phile /etc/utmp is a wonderful phile. This is the place that the system
keeps track of who is logged in, where they are on from, etc... If you were
to perhaps change the contents, you could do lots of interesting things.

Usually, this phile is set so that only root can write to it, but if it isn't
a simple C program will assist you in altering your login. You can even do
such things as change what finger sees you as to, for example root. Then,
send a write message to somebody, and they will think you are root! Simple
as that, really. The best message to send is when you pick out someone you
don't like, set yourself up as them, then do this:
~.> write root
Fuck you - I am a hacker!
^D

Root isn't well known for his sense of humor in such matters... The program
itself is pretty easy, but won't be included in this article for the sake of
space. Suffice to say, if you have read/write privs to the /etc/utmp phile,
you can do this sort of thing.

Eg: If the protection bits (the left hand column from ls -al) look like:

-rw-rw-rw- root root 1 1179 utmp

Then you have read/write privs.


Anyway, there are heaps more but I am tired, so bad luck. Maybe more next
time. Till then, enjoy, and remember: Information wants to be free, so long
as AARNET can charge us for it!

-- Joe Lunchbucket                      
email: private@not.fucking.likely


(You didn't really expect an email address did you?)

- End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 6:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


             Ripping Food and Drink Vending Machines - in Australia:
             -------------------------------------------------------



             By mE!





                  I suppose most of you have heard about getting free
             shit from vending machines one way or another, well I
             will go into detail about a usually guaranteed way of
             scoring big time. But first:

                  There are many ways to rip a machine some of the
             more popular ways are as follows:

             On a food machine you can....

             ....rock the shit out of it until all the chip packets
             and candy bars fly out of their little holders into the
             chute where you (the dirtball who pulled the filthy low
             down scumbag of a trick) stock up on the goods. :-)

             ....stick a coat hanger into the slot and swipe the food
             by hooking it out into the chute where you stash it all
             into a bag.

             ....cut the glass with a glass cutter, pulling the piece
             you just cut out with a suction cup, and sticking your
             hand into the machine and nicking whatever takes your
             fancy. (This will attract a shit load of attention
             especially with the glass cutter making the loudest
             fucking noise - well it seems like it's loud when you're
             trying to get in to a machine ;-) ) It is best to do this
             in a quiet place where no bastard is looking!

             ....stick quick hardening clay in the keyhole wait a few
             minutes then turn the bastard. If someone comes it is easy
             to crush the thing!

             NOTE: There are some new food machines which fork out
             chocolate bars and shit like that which operate like the
             drink machines so you won't be able to apply to above
             methods on them. (Although you might get lucky by
             applying method 1 or method 2 but I rather doubt it.

             On a drinks machine you can....

             ....stick you arm up the chute and empty the machine
             manually.

             ....put an object like a piece of wood right up into the
             chute out of sight and leave it for a while, returning
             later to collect your hard earned drinks ;-) (this is a
             real bastard of a thing to do so don't do it - ok ;-)


                  Those were a few ways of getting a rather cheap meal
             but none of them are guaranteed. Either you find you've
             been wasting your time to no avail, or you end up on the
             wrong side of a door with iron bars on it at your local
             friendly pig shop for the night.
                  The method I will now describe in detail to you is
             guaranteed 90% of the time and is always the most
             profitable.


             The Salt Water Method:
             ----------------------

                  This method is well known of but lots of people
             claim that it doesn't work. I can assure you it works and
             it works well; providing you follow the method laid out
             here, you should get a reasonable success rate!

             Stuff you will need:

                  1.25 Litre PLASTIC soft drink bottle.
                  Screw on plastic bottle top
                  Blu Tac
                  Drinking straw - McDonalds ones are the best.
                  Knife
                  Water
                  Salt
                  Rubber Glove
                  Towel

                  Cut the straw in half. Next cut a hole in the top of
             the cap with the knife allowing the straw to just fit
             through without being squashed. Wrap the Blu Tac around
             the straw on both the inside and out side of the cap
             sealing it. You can check if it air tight by screwing the
             cap onto the bottle and blowing in the straw. If no air
             escapes through the sides then you have done well. (Note
             the cap will be hard to screw on the first time due to
             the blu tac being on the inside of the cap. However it
             putting the blu tac on the inside of the cap seals it
             better). You now have the bottle set up - now all you
             need is to make up the salt water.

             Mixing the Saline Solution:

                  The idea is to get as much salt as possible dissolved
             into the water without having any salt left over on the
             bottom of the bottle. Hot water will dissolve the salt
             faster and dissolve more of it than cold water (this is
             called a super saturated solution). However if you let
             the water cool down again you will find that some of the
             salt appears on the bottom of the bottle which we don't
             want to happen. So it is important to keep the water as
             hot as possible. (Note it is better to mix your own
             saline solution than using sea water).

             What to do now:

                  Take the bottle full of saline with the cap and
             straw screwed on tightly, to your vending machine. Stick
             the straw into the money slot and squeeze the bottle. You
             will hear the water trickling inside the machine and will
             the the "Please use correct change" light flashing on and
             off a few times. Next you should hear the sound of the
             machine short circuiting. Money should start pouring into
             the coin return slot - however it doesn't always do this
             straight away. Now it is time to get the drinks or food.
             Put the rubber glove on to protect yourself from being
             electrocuted. Wipe the outside of the machine dry with the
             towel. Now start pressing the buttons and wait. Items
             should start falling be it food or drinks. Squirt some
             more saline solution into the money slot and the drinks
             sometimes fall without you having to push the buttons!
             However the more water you pour in the more likely you re
             of getting money to pour out from the coin return slot.
             Once the money is coming out and the items are falling -
             DON'T put any more water into the machine as you will
             either electrocute yourself or blow up the machine!

             How it all works:

                  As you may know salt water (saline) has a higher
             conductivity than plain water, however undissolved salt
             does not conduct at all. (This is why it is bad to have
             undissolved salt left over in the bottle). What happens is
             the machine registers a credit when a coin passes a
             conductor. If you pour salt water through the system it
             will short circuit this conductor and also short circuit
             the change/money return conductor. So the machine is
             fooled into thinking that money is constantly being put
             into the machine and will thus dish out free shit and
             give change.

             Other shit you should know:

                  If you put money in when the machine is short
             circuited it will either sit there or fall through to the
             coin return slot. If it sits there then you are in luck
             as you can leave the machine in that state and people
             will put their money in and get a drink or food not
             knowing that they don't need to put any money in. If you
             come back later and press the coin return button you will
             get their money. The customer is happy as they got their
             drink or snack and you are happy as you get a little bit 
             of cash! Ofcourse we all know who is unhappy. ;-)
                  Don't expect to become a millionaire by getting the
             money out of the machine. The most I ever got was ten
             bucks all in ten cent and five cent pieces. At least it
             pays for petrol or a train ride! (NOTE there are two
             money boxes in the machine. One holds all the money that
             is put in the machine by people who buy the drinks and
             the other holds the money that gives change. You can only
             get the money out of the change box).
                  Try and keep the outside of the machine dry - the
             number of times I have been zapped by fucking machines is
             not funny, the risk of electrocution is there and there
             is no fucking point is being dead since you can't enjoy
             the rewards of a hard nights work! The highly conductive
             salt water can pour out of the buttons you are trying to
             press and fuck you up when you press them.

             What Machines to try:

                  Any machine that registers a credit by passing an
             electrical current through the coin has the potential to
             dish out free stuff. This usually means a machine that
             has the ability to give change. This includes drink
             machines, food machines, cigarette machines etc. However
             not all of them will work I know of one make of Pepsi
             dispensing machine that won't work. The Coke machines
             usually work though. Just don't be disillusioned if it
             doesn't work - try on another machine.
                  Any machine that registers a credit by activating
             switches by it's mass will NOT work. This means telefones
             and the like. You can however get free phone calls and
             stuff by inducing a large current but I will go into that
             in another text file.

             Final Words:

                  Try to do this in the dark as it looks bloody
             suspicious you holding a bottle up to a machine, stuff
             landing in the dispenser, money flying out and water 
             flowing out of the bottom of the machine! Also don't go
             back to the same machine all the time as when they find
             the machine with no drinks in it and no money in the
             machine they are going to wonder what the fuck is going
             on - they may even have the machine watched.

                  I hope this text file has been useful look out for
             more by me. Just one last thing - If you are going to do
             this, pick on bigger companies rather than small business
             - it is better to hurt the fat overfed shithead bastard 
             of a capitalist scumbag than the little person. ;-)


             This Phine text Phile by mE!
             (Remember BigBrother is watching you!)

             - End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 7:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Commandeering an Optus Voice Mail Box for yourself:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 Many of you will have heard of Voice mail services. They are 
becoming quite popular. All they simply are, is an advanced form of 
answering machine. These days many mobile fones are diverted to them 
when they are turned off, and (this is the good bit), when the phone 
is turned back on again, it will ring and tell you that you have voice 
mail waiting.
 Now due to the actual existence of this and other files, you
probably correctly guessed that there are ways of getting yourself a
simple mailbox. For the hacker or any person in the underground, a
VMB is very useful for keeping in contact anonymously with other
colleagues! While you can't have the mobile services on a hacked VMB,
they are still very useful to give to people (on BBSes, Internet etc.)
who then call the VMB rather than your home. This file will go into
detail on how to acquire yourself an Optus Voice Mail box.

1: Dialing in:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 Certain prefixes are assigned to Voice mail where you dial the
prefix, then the mail box number. Unfortunately, I only have a few 
Victorian prefixes to offer at the moment as I'm not sure what the
interstate ones are. However, they shouldn't be too hard to find. Just
social engineer Telstra (013) or Optus (1800 500 500) and try the get 
numbers from the bastards. Else ask around on your favorite Underground
BBS. I'll publish any more I find! The Victorian prefixes are:

 (03) 9220 - XXXX
 (03) 9221 - XXXX
 (03) 9222 - XXXX

Where XXXX is the VMB number. (I'm not sure if there are any more Optus 
Victorian Voice mail prefixes). 

Once connected to the VMB system:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 When you get a message, (like hello you've called myself, leave 
a message and piss off!) you can leave a message and hang up (or press 1 
at the end of the message and you get the option of leaving another 
message in any VMB without having to recall), or press * during the 
message and there you have to enter a passcode (from 4 to 10 digits in
length). Press * again and you get the "Welcome to the Optus........"
Here you can dial another VMB number without having to recall the VMB system,
or you can even leave a message to Optus digital mobile phones. When dialing
the new VMB number the format is the same as if you had jut picked up the
phone and dialed (except for the area code if you are calling from
interstate) ie 9220 - XXXX, or 9221 - XXXX, or 9222 - XXXX. Mobiles are
different. On a mobile you enter the last 8 digits. (Usually 1X-XXX-XXX as
digital fones begin with 041X usually.)
Ok that's the basics of using the VMB system, now what about commandeering
one for yourself?

Hacking an Optus VMB:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 No, we aren't going to go into setting up a wardialer to crack 
somebody's passcode. This isn't fair on the poor sucker who owns the VMB
and it is practically impossible anyway as you only get three attempts
at entering the passcode, which can be between 4 and 10 digits in length.
What we are trying to find is an EMPTY Voice Mail Box. An empty VMB, when
called, simply has the operator's voice saying "Please leave a message..."
What it is up to you to do is to try and find an empty VMB. This isn't
really that hard, just kind of tedious. The best way to do this, is to
dial in to any voice mail box and press * and then press * again. Then you
dial your next number. You keep doing this until you find an empty VMB.
(This could save you a bit of money!!) Once you find an empty mail box,
simply type * and listen to the computerized operator. She will say:
"Hello box number 922X - XXXX Please enter your passcode." (The XXXX's
depending on what VMB number you have dialed.) Assuming somebody hasn't
fucked with that VMB and changed the passcode and left the message the
same, the passcode is the number of the voice mail you have dialed.
(Except there is no 9 included). Once you have entered the passcode,
you can enter the system and press 8 for user options and set it up.
Pretty bloody easy eh??

Safety:
=-=-=-=

Ok. To keep you on the right side of the fence, I have included a few
safety tips.

 - Don't use your real name, fone number or address on the system
   (Especially not in your intro!) This includes getting people
   who know who you are to NOT use you name (or theirs) when
   leaving VMail to you.

 - Try and avoid dialing directly to your own voice mail box.
   Dial another VMB, press * twice and then enter your full VMB
   number. (All fone numbers dialed are logged on AXE and S12
   exchanges remember!!)

 - Don't blab to everybody about your new toy!!

 - Use your fucking common sense!

Ok that just about wraps it up. I hope this is useful. Check out other
mags (like Neurocactus) for more details on other VMB systems. Have Fun!!

mE!

- End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 8:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Introduction to Australian Telephone Exchanges - By mE!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 If you don't know what a telephone exchange is, then you really
shouldn't be reading this magazine! But in any case, I will give a brief
history of the exchange as well as the different exchange types.

The first exchanges started springing up before the end of the 19th
century. Melbourne was to boast the first telephone exchange in Australia, 
run by the Melbourne Telephone Exchange Company - managed by a man called
H. Byron Moore. This was merely two years after the first American
exchange and only four years since Bell had first talked on the telephone.
(C'mon you must know who Alexander Graham Bell is!!)
 The first sort of exchange was completely manually operated. Ie you
picked up the handset, turned the lever to Generate an electrical current,
and a light would light up on an Operator's console at the exchange. You
then asked to be connected to your desired number. Now this was all fine
and dandy. But as more and more subscribers began to use the fone system,
more and more people had to be employed. This would have proved to be a
real fucking headache, had the new automatic exchange not come into being.

The Step by Step (SxS) Exchange:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 The real trip out was that the automatic exchange was invented by 
an American funeral director! His name was Almon B. Strowger. It is said 
that he was getting just a tad pissed off about his business rival's wife,
who worked at the local telephone exchange, switching his customers to his
competition, so he said "fuck it! I'm gonna get rid of those stupid tart
operator bitches!!" He did this by inventing a device similar to the 
Step-by-Step exchange. 
 The SxS exchange simply handles each number one step at a time. When 
the receiver is picked up, it is connected to a device called a UNISELECTOR 
which is just a moving arm making contact with a selected point. The purpose 
of a uniselector is to find a free BIMOTIONAL Selector. A Bimotional selector
is simply a two dimensional version of the uni-selector. You are ofcourse 
given a dialtone when the uniselector connects to the first BMS. When the 
first number is dialed, you are connected to another bi-motional selector. 
The selector connected to is dependent on the number dialed. Each number 
dialed connects you to the relevant selector until the telephone number you 
are calling is reached.

                                    |
             o                      | o o o o o
--------o     o                     | o / o o o --------------------->
         \     o                    | o/o o o o  To BMS #2 which is
          \    o                    | / o o o o  dependent on the
           \  o                     |/           number dialed.
            \o----------// ---------|
                                    |
Uniselector                         Bi-Motional Selector 1
(1 Dimensional)                     (2 Dimensional)

For more details and better pictures than bloody ASCII drawings, read a 
telephony History book, or Check out the Telstra Internet home page. 
Or get the Information kit #3 from Telstra, which is on the internet and 
from Telstra's Public Relations service. (It's FREE - For a change!!)
 The last SxS exchange in Australia was predicted to be replaced 
as late as 1995. Whether that has happened or not, I wouldn't have a clue!
(An interesting point to note is that the last MANUAL exchange was at
Wanaaring is New South Wales. This was decommissioned in December 1991!!!)

The Crossbar Exchange:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 Although better than employing ten million bloody operators, the
SxS exchange was a pain in the arse to maintain. Numbers were hardcoded 
into the system which made things a pain in the arse if you wanted your
number changed!! The Crossbar (or XBar) exchange was to come to the rescue.
The XBar had the advantage of having the control system separate from the
switching system. This made the exchange a hell of a lot more versatile.


                           --------------------
  -----------              |    Switching     |               ----------
  |  Fone 1 |--------------|     System       |---------------| Fone 2 |
  -----------      |       |                  |       |       ----------
                   |       --------------------       |
                   |                                  |
                   |                                  |
                   |         ----------------         |
                   |         |   Control    |         |
                   ----------|   System     |----------
                             |              |
                             ----------------

                  The XBar exchange brought back the
                  common control system which was
                  absent in SxS exchanges.
                  The Control system can be Relays, 
                  microprocessors, or people. (Ie in old
                  manual exchanges.) 

 The Crossbar works in a similar way to the old Manual switch
boards but are controlled by relays rather than people. The switchboards
are of course part of the switching system while the relays are part of the
control system. It was during the XBar era, that many services like STD
came about.

Computerized Exchanges:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 A modern Crossbar exchange works on the same principle as any XBar
exchange. However the relays are gone and the Common Control System is
controlled by microprocessors. This gives the exchange some of the features
that a fully computerized exchange offers.
 The next step was the fully computerized exchange. Unlike the
computer controlled XBar, which has a computerized control system and the
XBar style switching equipment, the modern computerized exchange digitizes
the signals rather than switching the analogue signal. The digitized 
information is then switched using logic circuits (AND gates, OR gates etc.)
to a multiplexer where it is either converted back to an analogue signal
and sent to the other fone (if both fones are on the same exchange) or 
sent digitally (along copper, microwave, fibre optic etc.) to a remote
exchange where is converted back to an analogue signal and sent to the
other fone. With modern computerized exchanges, features like tone dialing,
easycall and a whole heap of other shit are available. Modern exchanges also
handle stuff like ISDN. Integrated Services Digital Network - In which the
signal is digital right up to your door. This would render modems useless.
But Telescum prices it so fucking high that it is out of reach to 99% of
the population!

What do those acronyms mean?
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The following is a description of exchange acronyms and what they mean:

 SxS: Step by Step exchange. In Australia this includes:
 
  SE-50,SR-B

 XBar: Crossbar exchanges. In Australia, this includes:

  ARF,ARK

 ARE: Computerized Xbar. These include ARE-11, ARE-113, ARE-114
      Most ARE-11 Exchanges have been converted from old ARF
      XBar exchanges.

 AXE/S12: AXE and System 12 exchanges are fully computerized.
 System 12 is a little smaller than AXE but they are pretty
 much the same. AXE (And I think ARF and ARK) are made by
 Erricson. A scary thought for you. ALL calls made on AXE and
 S12 and probably recent ARE exchanges have the numbers logged 
 and stored for later reference if needed!!! (Figure that out!!)

 PABX/PBX: Private (automatic) branch exchange. A small exchange
 that is run by a business. Will cover these in detail in the 
 future.

This was meant to be an INTRODUCTION to telephone exchanges and by no means
a comprehensive guide. The best places to find more info is from the
following places: (There are probably other places to go as well!!)

  The Internet (FTP, USENET, WWW etc.)
  The Fidonet echo: Aust. Telecommunications
  Telescum (Social Engineering, Public relations etc.)
  Text files & zines and like this one.
  Library, Bookstores etc.
  Go trashing!!

I hope this file has taught you a thing of two. Look out for more advanced
and more comprehensive articles in future.

mE!

- End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 9:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


                         C L A S S I C   T E X T S
                         =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

This section of ubiquitous is dedicated to classic texts that you all
should have read. (If not then that's why they are here!). It will be
a regular section of Ubiquitous, providing I don't run out of texts!!
(Sometimes if the classic text is rather short, then I will include 
two for that issue.)

This issue is the classic BOFH by Simon Travaglia:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 
                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #1

It's backup day today so I'm pissed off.  Being the BOFH, however, does have
it's advantages.  I assign the tape device to null - it's so much more
economical on my time as I don't have to keep getting up to change tapes every
5 minutes.  And it speeds up backups too, so it can't be all bad.

A user rings

"Do you know why the system is slow?" they ask

"It's probably something to do with..."  I look up today's excuse ".. clock
speed"

"Oh"  (Not knowing what I'm talking about, they're satisfied)  "Do you know
when it will be fixed?"

"Fixed?  There's 275 users on your machine, and one of them is you.  Don't be
so selfish - logout now and give someone else a chance!"

"But my research results are due in tommorrow and all I need is one page of
Laser Print.."

"SURE YOU DO.  Well; You just keep telling yourself that buddy!"  I hang up.

Sheesh, you'd really think people would learn not to call!

The phone rings.  It'll be him again, I know.  That annoys me.  I put on a
gruff voice

"HELLO, SALARIES!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I've got the wrong number"

"YEAH?  Well what's your name buddy?  Do you know WASTED phone calls cost 
money?  DO YOU?  I've got a good mind to subtract your wasted time, my wasted
time, and the cost of this call from your weekly wages!  IN FACT I WILL!   By
the time I've finished with you, YOU'LL OWE US money!  WHAT'S YOUR NAME - AND
DON'T LIE, WE'VE GOT CALLER ID!"

I hear the phone drop and the sound of running feet - he's obviously going to
try and get an alibi by being at the Dean's office.  I look up his username and
find his department.  I ring the Dean's secretary.

"Hello?" she answers

"Hi, SIMON, B.O.F.H HERE, LISTEN, WHEN THAT GUY COMES RUNNING INTO YOUR OFFICE
IN ABOUT 10 SECONDS, CAN YOU GIVE HIM A MESSAGE?"

"I think so..." she says

"TELL HIM `HE CAN RUN, BUT HE CAN'T HIDE'"

"Um. Ok"

"AND DON'T FORGET NOW, I WOULDN'T WANT TO HAVE TO TELL ANYONE ABOUT THAT FILE
IN YOUR ACCOUNT WITH YOUR ANSWERS TO THE PUURITY TEST IN IT..."

I hear her scrabbling at the terminal...

"DON'T BOTHER - I HAVE A COPY.  BE A GOOD GIRL AND PASS THE MESSAGE ON"

She sobs her assent and I hang up.  And the worst thing is, I was just guessing
about the purity test thing.   I grab a quick copy anyway,  it  might make for
some good late-night reading.

Meantime backups have finished in record time, 2.03 seconds.  Modern technology
is wonderful, isn't it?

Another user rings.

"I need more space" he says

"Well, why don't you move to Texas?" I ask

"No, on my account, stupid."

Stupid?!?....  Uh-Oh..

"I'm terribly sorry" I say, in a polite manner equal to that of Jimmy Stewart
in a Family Matinee "I didn't quite catch that.  What was it that you said?"

I smell the fear coming down the line at me, but it's too late, he's a goner
and he knows it.

"Um, I said what I wanted was more space on my account, *please*"

"Sure, hang on"

I hear him gasp his relief even though he covered the mouthpeice.

"There, you've got plenty of space now"

"How much have I got" 

Now this REALLY *PISSES* *ME* *OFF*!  Not only do they want me to give them
extra disk, they want to check it, to correct me if I don't give them enough.
They should be happy with what I give them *and that's it*!!!

Back into Jimmy Stewart mode.

"Well, let's see, you have 4 Meg available"

"Wow!  Eight Meg in total, thanks!" he says pleased with his bargaining power

"No" I interrupt, savouring this like a fine red, at room temperature "4 Meg in
total..."

"Huh?...  I'd used 4 Meg already, How could I have 4 Meg Available?"

I say nothing.  It'll come to him.

"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhhhH!"

I kill me; I really do!

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                      BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #2

I'm sitting at the desk, playing x-tank, when some thoughtless bastard rings me
on the phone.  I pick it up.

"Hello?" I say.
"Who is this?" they say
"It's me I think" I say, having been through a telephone skills course "Me
Who?"
"Is this like a knock knock joke?" I say, trying anything to save myself having
to end this game.

Too LATE!  I get killed.

Now I'm pissed!

"What can I do for you?" I ask pleasantly - (one of the key warning signs)

"Um, I want to know if we have a particular software package.."

"Which package is that?"

"Uh, B-A-S-I-C it's called."

>clickety clickety d-e-l b-a-s-i-c.e-x-e<

"Um no, we don't have that.  We used to though.."

"oh.  Oh well, the other thing I wanted to know was, could the contents of my
account be copied to tape to I have a permanent copy of them to save at home in
case the worst happens.."

"The worst?"

"Well, like they get deleted or something..."

"DELETED!  Oh, don't worry about that, we have backups"  (I'm such a *shit*)
"What was your username?"

He gives me his lusername.  (What an idiot)

>clickety clikc<

"But you haven't got any files in your account!" I say, mock surprise leaping
from my vocal chords.

"Yes I have, you must be looking in the wrong place!"

So first he spoils my x-tank game, and now he's calling me a liar...

>clickety click<

"Oh no, I made a mistake" I say

Did he mutter "typical" under his breath?  Oh dear, oh dear..

"I MEANT TO SAY:  That username doesn't exist"

"Huh?  >wimper< It must do, I was only using it this morning!"

"Ah well, that'll be the problem, there was a virus in our system this morning,
the... uh... De Vinci Virus, wipes out users who are logged in when it goes
off."

"That can't be right, my girlfriend was logged in, and I'm in her account now!"

"Which one was that?"

He tells me the username.  Some people NEVER learn..

"Oh, yeah, her account was just after we discovered the virus." >clickety
clikc<
 "..she only lost all her files"

"But..."

"But don't worry, we've got them all on tape"

"Oh, thank goodness!!!"

"Paper tape.  Have you got a magnifying glass and a pencil.  SEE YOU IN THE
MACHINE ROOM!!!!   NYAHAHAHAHAHA!"

I'm such a prick!

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #3

So I'm working so hard I barely have time to drive into town and watch a movie
before I told people their printing will be ready.  The queue's WAAAAY too long
to have everything printed (and sorted) by the time I told them, so I kill all
the small jobs so there's only 2 left and I can sort them in no time.

Then, after the movie, (which was one of those slack Bertolucci ones that takes
about 3 hours till the main character is killed off in a visionary experience)
I get back and clear the printouts.

There's about 50 people waiting outside and I've got two printouts.  That's
about average for me.  I thought I'd killed more tho.  Anyway, I put out the
printouts and walk slooowly inside, fingering the clipboard with "ACCOUNTS TO
REMOVE" in big letters on the back.  No-one says anything.  As usual.

. . .

   I'm sitting back in the Operations Armchair, watching the computer room
closed circuit TV, which just happens to be connected to the frame-grabber's
Video player (sent off for repair, due back sometime in '94) when the phone
rings.  That must be the 2nd time today, and it's really starting to get to me!

"Yes?" I say, pausing the picture.

"I've accidentally deleted my C.V!" the voice at the other end of the line
says.

"You have?  What was your username?"

He tells me.  What the hell, I AM bored.

"Ah no, you didn't delete it - I did."

"What?"

"I deleted it.  It was full of shit!  You didn't ever get more than a B- in any
of your subjects!"

"Huh?"

"And that crap about being a foreign exchange student, that was your girlfriend
and we both know it."

"Huh?!!"

"Your academic records.  I checked them, you were lying.."

"How did y.."  He clicks.  "It's you isn't it?  THE BASTARD OPERATOR FROM
HELL!"

"In the flesh, on the phone and in your account....  You shouldn't have called
you know.  You especially shouldn't have given me your username.."  >clickety<
>click<   "Neither should you have sent that mail to the System Manager telling
him what you think of him in graphic terms..."

"I didn't send any.."  

>clickety< >click<......

"No, you didn't did you?  But who can tell these days.  Not to worry though,
It'll all be over VERY soon.."  >clickedy clikc<  "..change my username back,
and..."

"b-b-b.." he blubs, like a stood-up date

"Goodbye now" I say pleasantly,  "you've got bags to pack and a life to start
over..."

I hang up.

Two seconds later the red phone goes.  I pick it up, it's the boss. He mumbles
the username of the person I was just talking to, mentions something about a
nasty mail message, and utters the words "You know what to do...", with the
dots and everything.

Later, inside the Municipal Energy Authority Computer, as I'm modifying the
poor pleb's  Energy Bill by several zeros, I can't help but think about what
lapse of judgement - what act of heinous stupidity causes them to call. Then,
even later, when I'm adding the poor pleb's photo image over the top of the
FBI's online "MOST Wanted Armed and Dangerous, SHOOT ON SIGHT" offenders list,
I realise, I'll probably never know; but life goes on.

   A couple of hours later, as I see the SWAT vehicle roll up outside the poor
pleb's apartment I realise that for some, it just doesn't.

But tommorrow is another day.

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #4

It's a thursday, and I'm in a good mood.  It's payday.  I think I'll take some
calls.  I put the phone back on the hook.  It rings.

"I've been trying to get you for hours!" the voice at the other end screams

"Not, it can't be hours" I say, putting Blade Runner back into it's cover and
looking at the back, "it was more like 114 minutes.  I was on a long phone call
with the big boss, trying to get you users some better facilities"

Hook; Line;  and Sinker...
"Oh.  I'm sorry."

"That's ok, I'm a tolerant person"  I make a mental note to change his password
to something nasty in the next couple of days.

"Um, I need to know how to rename a file" he says.

Oh dear...  Hang on, it's payday isn't it?!  I'm in a good mood.

"Sure.  You just go 'rm' and the filename"

"Thanks"

"No worries"  (Now I'm in a REALLY good mood.  I think I just might write that
script to make saving impossible on rogue at random times like I've been think-
ing about)

The phone rings again.

"Hello?"

"Hi there" I say

"Is this the Operators?"

"Yes it is" I say, nice as pie

"Could you get my printouts out please.  I need them urgently, and I printed
them over 5 minutes ago"

"Your username?" I ask

He gives it to me, and I write it down for later.  "No worries at all!" I say,
and head to the printers.

There's a HUUUUUUUGE pile of printouts there, and sure enough, his is at the
top of the pile.  I pick it up, split it out of the rest and pour our ink-
stained cleaning alcohol all over it, run it over a couple of times with the
loaded tape trolley then slam it in the tape safe door some times as well.

Beautiful.

"Here's your printout" I say "Sorry about the delay, we've got a few printer
problems."

He takes a look and shits himself.

"Well, can I print it again?" he asks, worried

"Sure you can" I say "But no promises, the printer's a bit stuffed today"

"Well can I print it on laser - is that working?"

"Yeah of course, but that'll cost you" I say, oozing compassion for the geek

"It doesn't matter about the cost, THIS IS URGENT!"

I slide-on back into the printer room and put in the toner cartridge we save
for special occasions - the one that prints thick black lines down the middle
of the page and is all faint on one side.  It took me quite a while to make it
like that too.  The printout shoots through and I bring it out immediately - I
don't want to miss this!

"W-w-what's happened to my printout?" he geek-squeals at me. Lucky I wrote that
username down - I'm really starting to develop a taste for torture.

"Well nothing.  I mean sure, it's a little soiled, but that cartridge has
already done 47 thousand pages and been refilled 17 times.  It's quite good
compared to some we get"

Geek pays up and starts blubbing.

"Hey now.  There's no reason to cry!  Have you got a disk with your work on
it?"

He gives me a box of diskettes and I step inside and run them across the bulk
eraser.  I come back out again.

"Sorry, I just remembered, our machine is on the fritz, you'll have to take 
these to the other side of campus to the machine there, it'll print them ok,
and it had a brand-new toner yesterday."

"GREAT!"

"No worries.  Oh, and hold the disks above your head the whole way there, the
earth's magnetic field is particularly strong today."

"Huh?"

"No arguements, just do it."

He wanders off, hand held high.  Shit I hate myself sometimes.

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #5

I'm bored senseless, so I pass the time by reading users email.  I must admit
that today's lot is PARTICULARLY boring, not one good message in all of them. I
was expecting at LEAST some veiled reference to a grope in a storeroom, but
nothing.  So I'm bored senseless by the usual drivel about some relative's
surgery and how the weather is over the other side of the world - that sort of
crap.

To relieve the boredom, I remove a e-mail party invite from a user's mail and
post it under the senders username to to alt.singles.with.severe.social.
dysfunctions on news, and make a note in my diary to be there with my
camcorder.  Should be a blast!

  Next in line is the online medical records database, in which the company
doctors store the current medical histories of the staff.  I grep it quickly
for "herpes" and "syphillus" and sell the results to the local scum newspaper.
I cover my tracks by adding an entry to one of the doctor's online electronic
diarys for yesterday saying "$500, Med Recs To Paper"  I think that's all it
should take..

I move some tapes from the racks to the trolley to make it look like we really
use them, then start looking thru archie listings for a hidden x-gif site.  I
find one then start a batch job running under some user's account to get them
all back, charged to him.  I make sure he's got enough disk for the job by
removing any files not related to the task at hand.  Like all those "Doctorate
Final Report" papers that have got quite large in the last couple of weeks.

I go back to the mail now, as something's bound to have happened.  I do a grep
on all mail files for the words "pregnant" and "family way", and post them
anonymously to the local general interest newsgroup.

Then, before anything can happen, the power goes out!  The next second, the
phone rings.

"Hello?" I say, annoyed - the coyote was just about to kill roadrunner again!

"Has the comput.."

I hang up.  This is a matter of life or death.  Quick as I can I rip the
computer power cable out of the UPS and plug the TV in.  Damn!  Wylie missed
again!  

Meantime, all the alarms are going off like crazy as the disks spin down, but
that's ok, because my Mac and Terminal are hardwired to the UPS in any case;
and I'm at the Beer Factory level in Dark Castle too.

The phone rings, so I pull the PABX breaker on the UPS switchboard and it
stops.  Now to look like I'm working.  I break out the puck and the hockey
stick and play a little one-on-wall.  From the observation window it'll look
like I'm being blindingly efficient, as per usual.

10 Minutes later, the power is back and we're two HDA's down, but what the
hell, I haven't lost a man, I'm onto the final screen, and there's more
cartoons!

The phone rings, it's a luser.  (What a surprise)

"Computer Room" I say, being efficient

"Hello, when will the compu..."

I hang up.
I'm doing well in the screen, all I need do is get past the wizard who throws
spells at you and I'm in!

The phone rings again.  I put it on hands free

"Computer Room" I shout, still deep in the game.

"I've lost my files" a user whines over the loudspeaker

"You bet you have" I say, as my concentration lapses just long enough for me to
get zapped by the wizard.

"What was your username?" I say, all sweetness and smiles

He tells me, I look, and he's right.  Shit, and I didn't even do it!

Not to be outdone, I change his login directory to the null device, set his
path to "." and redefine the command "news" to execute a script in his old
login directory to send a nasty message to the equal opportunities officer,
then delete itself.

Now that's trying!

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #6

It's friday, so I get into work early, before lunch even.  The phone rings.
Shit!

I turn the page on the excuse sheet.  "SOLAR FLARES" stares out at me.  I'd 
better read up on that.  Two minutes later I'm ready to answer the phone.

"Hello?"  I say.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET YOU ALL MORNING?!"

I hate it when they shout at me early in the morning.  It always puts me in a
bad mood.   You know what I mean.

"Ah, yes.   Well, there's been some solar activity this morning, it always
disrupts electronics..."  I say, sweet as a sugar pie.

"Huh?  But I could get through to my friends?!"

"Yes, that's entirely possible, solar activity is very unpredictable in it's
effects.  Why last week, we had some files just dissappear from a guys account
while he was working on it!"

"Really?"

"Straight Up!   Hey, do you want me to check your account?"

"Yes please, I've got some important stuff in there!"

"Ok, what's your username..."

He tells me.  Honestly, it's like shooting a fish in a barrel.  Twice. With an
Elephant Gun.  At point blank range.  In the head.

(Do I really need to tell you the clicky clicky bit?  I think not)

"How many files are in your account?"  I ask

Um, well there should be about 20 in my thesis writeup, 10 or so with the data
for it, and another 20 or so in a book that I'm writing"

"Hmmm.  Well, I think we caught it just in time.  You've still got 2 files
left...  .cshrc and .login"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhh!"

He sobs into the receiver a bit - it really turns my stomach.

"What can I do?" he sniffs

"Ok, do you have any of your stuff backed up on floppy?"

"Some, but it's weeks old!"

I fire up the bulk eraser.

"Ok" I say "How about I come out and load all that data onto your account
pronto so you can get some work done?"

"That'd be great, but it's all at home" he wimpers.  "I spose I'll just load it
all in myself tonight"

"Sure.  But remember what I said, solar flares are bad for disks and machines.
Protect your disks from solar activity to prevent them losing their data"

"How do I do that?  Wrap them in tin-foil?"

"NO!  TIN FOIL'S THE WORST THING!  YOU KNOW WHAT TIN FOIL DOES IN A MICROWAVE
DON'T YOU?!"

"Yes.."

"Then don't use it.  There's only one thing that protects disks from solar
activity.."

"What's that?"

"MAGNETS.  Wrap your disks up in a pillow case with lots of magnets - Solar
Flares hate that"

"Wow!  Thanks"

"No worries at all..."

Shit I'm good!

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #7

So I manage AT LONG LAST, to get a couple of hours off for lunch, AND, because
I can't leave my desk unattended, I get the janitor in and have him sit in my
chair.  I tell him that all he has to do is make sure the receiver doesn't
accidentally get put back on the hook. He agrees and I'm off.

First stop, the bank.   I change a $50 note into quarters and then ask to see a
balance of my account.  Then I yank the power lead out of the teller's vdu. It
dies.  I say I'm in a hurry and is the manager around?

He rolls over like a man-sized twinkie and asks what the problem is.  I say
that all I want is a balance of my accounts.  I cross my fingers.  YES! He
finds the vdu lead out, plugs it in, and logs in, TO THE MANAGER'S ACCOUNT.
Now's my chance - I slip up against the counter, slopping 200 coins across the
counter.  The manager ignores it, but all the tellers dive for the money.  I
watch, unobserved, as the manager types in his password at the breakneck speed
of one character a minute.  At that rate I should've got $100 worth.... He
finishes typing.   "MONEY".  What a toughy!  Well, that's my mortgage taken
care of tonight...

A user that I recognise from "D(eletion) day '89" approaches.  I think he's
going to talk to me.  Even the bank manager is shaking his head furiously. But
it's too late, he stops.

"Um, excuse me, Could you tell me what is the best computer to buy to do my
thesis on?

?!

Right.

"You've heard of Commodore 64's?" I ask

"Yes?.."

"Avoid them like the plague!  Not many people know this, but computers aren't
made to handle that much memory - it's over 64,000 things, more in some cases.
It's a recipe for disaster!"

"Oh!"

"Try something safe and proven.  A ZX81 with dual cassette drive if you can get
it.  The 1K ram model.  Write that down.  Don't buy a disk drive - You know how
they're always failing, but music cassettes last forever!"

"Hey thanks!"

"No worries.  What was your username again?"

He tells me.  Just in time for D-Day 92.  You'd think they'd learn.

I get back to work and the janitor's asleep at the terminal.  I ask him if he
wants to work here too, but he likes the ability to bust in on people when
they're in the toilet...  

I put the phone back on the hook, and straight away it rings.  I hate it when
it does that, it takes me AGES to get my walkman phones in.

It's the hottest hosemonster I've ever met, and she's got a computer problem! I
love it when that happens!

"What's your username?" I ask

She tells me (as if I didn't know)

Quick as I can I read all her e-mail (mostly boring stuff), then grep everyone
else's mail files for her username.  Nothing.  Excellent!

"What's the problem?" I ask, all smiles and charm.

"I can't save my documents, it says something about space."

"Not a problem for long" I say, and delete everyone else on the same disk as
her.  "You should be fine now.."

"Thank you so much" she gushes.  
I make a mental note to do something to her account again tomorrow. "No
worries."

The phone rings almost before I've got it on the hook.

"My files are all gone!" a voice whines out at me.

"When did this happen?" I ask.

"Just now..." he says, through the tears

"I see.  Well, I wouldn't worry, there's three days till the end of the
semester, if you work day and night until then, you should get at least a C-"

He sobs a couple more times then hangs up.  What a wimp.

THE PHONE RINGS AGAIN!

"The screen on my PC is really dim" The woman at the other end says  "Should I
wind the brightness knob up?"

"NO!" I scream  "Don't touch that knob!  Have you any idea of the radiation
that comes out of that thing when the knob gets wound up?!!!!"

"Well I..." she says, all uncertain

"TAKE MY ADVICE!"  I say "There's only ONE way to fix a dim display, and that's
by power surging the drivers"

The words "power surging" and "drivers" have got her.  People hear words like
that and go into dummy mode and do ANYTHING you say.  I could tell her to run
naked across campus with a powercord rammed up her backside and she'd probably
do it...  Hmmm...

"Have you got a spare power cord?"

"No.."

"Oh well, never mind, we'll have to do the power surge idea...  Ok, quick as
you can, I want you to flick the power switch of your PC on and off 30 times"

"Should I take my disks out?"

"NO!  Do you want to lose all your data!?!"

"Oh.  No!  Ok.."

I listen carefully.. ..

...clicky..clikcy...clikky.. .. .. ...clicky.     ...cliccy..
 . . BOOM!

Amazing, it probably made it to 27 - the power supply usually shits itself at
15 or so...

"MY COMPUTER BLEW UP!!!" she screams at me down the line

"Really?  Must've been a dodgy power supply!  Lucky we found out now!  Is your
machine still under warranty?"

"NO!"

"Dear oh dear.  Well, Best get it repaired then.  Did you backup your files?"

"Yes, to the system, Yesterday, but all this morning's work is gone!"

"Oh dear.  What was your username, I'll just check that your backups worked
ok?"

She tells me....

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #8

I'm at my desk as usual, and a user calls.

"Hello Computer Room, Simon here, How can I help" I answer

"I can't get into my account!" A user mumbles at me.

"What was your username please?" I say

They give me their username.  No worries.  I look in their account.

"No worries, it was just a badly made login file.  I've fixed it, you should be
able to login."

"Thanks!"

"No worries.   Have a nice day!"

WHAT IS THIS?  you're asking yourself.  Has the BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL
turned over a new leaf?  Sold out?!   GONE INSANE?!!! Nope.  The BASTARD
OPERATOR FROM HELL is being logfiled.  And if that's happen- ing, I'm being
bugged as well.  So I'm being nice till I can find the bugs.  It shouldn't be
long - bear with me.

Ah.  One in the phone handpeice.  Basic.  But then the boss is a sneaky sort,
so there's probably a couple more.  Ah!  And another in the base of the phone
and one inside my keyboard.  Time for a mad coffee-spilling frenzy.  This is a
big job, so I bring the whole jug over and wait for a witness.  The System
Manager comes in.

"Where's that report of mine?" he asks in a surly manner - he's obviously
pissed that I haven't implicated myself yet.  Antagonist Identified.  As the
Principal of "BASTARD OPERATOR SCHOOL" (me) will tell you, "There's no problem
so large it can't be solved by killing the user off, deleting their files,
closing their account and reporting their REAL earnings to the IRS"

I pull his printout from under the coffee jug where I put it, and the coffee
splashes all over the phone and keyboard, which for some reason were stacked on
top of each other.

"Woopsy!"  I say, mock horror on my face.  The System Manager's face tells me I
was right in my guess.

"Don't think you'll get away with this!" he snarls and stomps off.

I click on the ethernet monitor and watch the traffic coming out of his PC.

Ah!  A memo, authorising the termination of my contract, going to the laser in
the director's office.  I make a few alterations to the file in the spool
directory and let it go to it's destination.  I run my dinky little program
that deposits -522 to the PC and our mainframe shits itself. 

Later, while booting, I'll remove that nasty logfile business.

      Next, I wander into the comms room and plug my earphone into the spare
RS232 port in the Directors office.  It's amazing how simple it is to bug an
office once it's got data lines going to it!

Director:        "Are you sure about this?" 
SysMgr:          "OF COURSE!"
Director:        "You don't want to reconsider?" 
SysMgr           "NEVER!"
Director:        "Very well, I'll fax it to staffing now.." SysMgr             
 "EXCELLENT!"

Two seconds later the System Manager strolls in smiling. "Well, I'll really
miss you Simon.." he says, full of himself.

"Oh?" I say, all sweetness and charm "Where are you going?"

"No Simon" he says, with glee "You're going"

"A PROMOTION!" I say "You've finally written that letter to the head of
staffing telling him he's a bum-sucking arse bandit and that you quit?"

"No..."

"Are you sure?  It's much better than the one about me being fired.."

"Y.."  His eyes widen slightly

It's like clubbing a seal to death with a foam cushion.  He runs to stop the
fax.  Only, having just resigned, >clicky cklikcy< his card key no longer
works...

Ametuers...

The Phone rings.  It's the same guy as before

"I can get into my account now, but I've run out of disk"

"Hang on, I'll see what I can do"

>clicccky<...
rm -r *

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #9

I'm driving to work and I'm stuck behind this old guy, the classic slow driver
from hell,  whose  car red-lines at 20 mph and can't take corners at more than
5.  I honk my horn but his hearing aid's probably turned way down to "whisper",
so I'm stuck.

I make a mental note of his license plate.  In fact, I did that 60 times a
minute for 15 and a half minutes.  Oh dear.. oh dear....  Looks like another
call to the DMV Database to register a vehicle as stolen by out of town arms
dealers...

I get to work, flick the excuse page over.  "ELECTROMAGNETIC RADIATION FROM
SATTELLITE DEBRIS".  Fair enough, it looks like it's going to be a good day.

I log into "FUCKYOU", (the help-desk enquiries username) and go into mail.
There's 3 new messages, the first of which is 117 lines long, so it's obviously
a storyteller.  Shit, I hate that.  Instead of saying "My account needs more
disk space" they tell you about how they're doing this bit of research for a
lecturer and how it's got to be in yesterday, and they almost had it but their
second cousing twice removed had a perforated herpes scab and lost a lot of
blood and had to be rushed into hospital... etc etc.  I delete the message.

Second message I read, but it's one of those people who can't handle the mail
interface and send a null message, so all you get is headers.  I reply to the
message saying "No worries, we can do that by next tuesday".  Hope it was
important.

The last message I leave for tommorrow, because Saturday would be a dull day if
I ever had to work then.

The phone rings.  I thought I'd fixed that!

I put it on hands free so I can slop some pizza into the microwave.

"Yes" I call

"Something's wrong with my Boot disk, I can't login to the server"

"Have you got your disk with you?"

"Sure!"

I go get the disk and put it and the pizza in for 5 minutes on "ULTRA-NUKE".

Six minutes later, he rings back.

"It still doesn't work, and now my disk makes a funny noise and smells."

"OH SHIT!  It's that electromagnetic radiation from satellite debris again!"

"Really?  I think I heard about that!"  (What a tool!)

"Yep, I'm sorry, you'll have to buy another disk"

"Oh, that's ok, I don't mind, the old one was getting worn.  Thanks"

"Sure, no worries.  And be sure to run it through our virus checker FDISK when
you get a lot of important data on it..."

"I will!  Thanks!"

"That's Ok - it's my job!"

Xcbzone is running really slow so I kill off a whole lot of database backends
that seem to be hogging all the cpu and get back into my game.  Much better.

It isn't easy on the frontline, work work work...

I go to the cafeteria for a quick 2 hour snack - they're so nice to me there.
They always have been, ever since that computer glitch that registered their
kitchen as an organ recipient - very messy.  I grab a couple of cans of coke
and some cheese things and cruise on back to the office via the first year
computer funamentals lab.  I look in the window on the scene that unfolds it-
self to me - a lab full of first years with no demonstrator.

WELL I'LL JUST HAVE TO HELP!

I walk on in.

"Right, I'm your temporary replacement demonstrator and today we're going to
put our assignments aside for half an hour to learn about the REMARK function,
or, as it's known to the computer literate world, rm.."

I should have been a teacher you know - I've got this way with people... ...

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #10

I get invited to a lecture as a guest speaker in "Computing Operations Fund-
amentals",  so  I  leave  the control room in the capable hands of Sam, the
janitor and cruise on down.

The lecture starts and goes ok, then there's a 10 minute period where students
get to ask a "real operator" questions that they have about operations.

I get out my pad and pen.
"Before we get started" I say, "could you just call out your username before
you ask me a question, I find it easier to apply your problem to terms you
would understand better"
The lecturer eats all this up - the personal touch really gets to them. "First
Question, You over there.."

"What do you think of the privacy of individuals on a shared system?"

"What was your username please?"

"CMS1103"

>Scratchy scritch<
"Computer Privacy...   Hmmm.  This is a toughy really.  You mean stuff like
reading the email between you and your counsellor about you not wanting to come
out of the closet?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGH!" 

"AH.  Well, he seems to have left - must have picked a bad COMPLETELY RANDOM
example.  Next question.  You, over there..."

"CMS1136.  I was.."

"Ah yes, 1136 the only person on campus who subscribes to alt.sex.buggery.by.
sailors.dressed.in.mums.clothing"

"It's purely for research purposes!"

"I'm sure it is.  You do a lot of story posting for a researcher don't you?"

"NNGggggAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHGH!"

"Next please..."

...

..

Two minutes later, the lecture theatre's empty.  That's the problem with
students today, they just don't want to learn.

I go back to control and Sam's asleep at the console again.  I think he's after
my job.  I make a mental note to tap into the salary database and cancel his
health and accident insurance payments.  You can't be too careful..

I put the phone on the hook for the first time this afternoon and it starts
ringing almost immediately.  THAT'S IT!  I redirect it to 911 catch a bit of
shuteye.  That'll teach them.  OOPS!  Almost forgot to turn over the excuse
calendar.  "STATIC FROM NYLON UNDERWEAR"  Nope, too plausable - although in
some cases I could do an on-site check.  Nah, can't be stuffed.  I'll pick
another one.  "STATIC FROM PLASTIC SLIDE RULES"  Now THAT'S one with a 
challenge!

I un-redirect the phone and drag the rubbish bin so it rests on the printer's
stacker - another job well done.  The phone rings - this could be the big one!

"Hello?"

"Hi, Um, how do I spell-check my file?"

"Simple, just type `spell' and the filename"

"Thanks"

I'm so bloody nice this morning.  Especially as I know that my version of spell
introduces  errors  instead  of detecting them.  Things like changing friend to
freind and vice-versa.  What the hell.

The phone rings - it's them again.

"There's something wrong with spell"

"What makes you think that?"

"Because my file is all corrupt now!"

"That doesn't sound like spell to me.  Are you logged into thru PC?"

"Yes, but I can.."

"Please, leave the technical diagnosis to me...  Now, is there a plastic ruler
somewhere on or in the desk?"

"Um >clunka<, yes..."

"Right.  You've got a static buildup on your hard-drive caused by the changing
electrostatic field generated by the ruler - the same one that makes bits of
paper stick to it when you rub it up and down your arm..."

DUMMY MODE ON

"Oh.  What do I do?"

"You know how you get paper off a ruler by hitting it on a table lots of times?
Well do that with your PC.  Say 20 times - lift it about a foot off the desk &
drop it."

"Oh.  OK"

>crash<

>crash<

>crash<

"Um, the screen went dark"

"That's ok, it's supposed to do that - keep going.  And when you're finished,
do the screen as well, that static may have gone up the wires to it."

>crash<

>crash<

>crash<...

I hang up.   I get up and go out to the public area to put honey in the floppy
drives when a guy who looked like Lee Harvey Oswald runs up to me and shoots
me, only the sound comes from the machine room, and I can hear the ex System-
Managers chuckle....

Later, in the ambulance, I realise.  I forgot to get the guys username...

Then everything goes dark

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL LIVES!   #11


The darkness cleared as we got out of the tunnel and it occurred to me that I
couldn't be all that injured.  Then again, maybe I was.  Someone was going to
p..

I died.

Of course, a true BOFH considers this not really as dying, but more of going
home for the holidays.

Five seconds later, I'm getting the upside of 15Kv across the nipples. (These
ambulance guys sure know how to party).

                 BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL LIVES! 

Three weeks later I'm back on my backside and feeling rested at relaxed behind
the console again.  The rest has done me good, I feel *great!*.  I catch up on
everyone's email then let the students know I'm back by performing an impromptu
preventative maintenance in the middle of lab time by kicking the restart
switch (They love it really)

I flip today's excuse card,  "GLOBAL WARMING"  YES YES YES!  What a welcome
home!

It's the end of the month so all those automatic email reminder programs will
be sending messages all over the place.  I set the system clock back 7 days to
buy some peace and quiet and swap the printer ribbon for the three year old one
with holes in it.

    I sort through my snail mail and crack open the BOFH Monthly Newsletter,
"kill -9" and check out the articles therein.   There's a nice peice of making
OS2 slow, boring and painful, but it looks exactly like the OS2 installation
instructions to me...  Ah, who knows.  I head straight to the BOFH Wizard
section to see if any of my articles were published.   All of them!!!  Even the
one about the c compiler that randomly removes one line from the source code
it's compiling!

The phone rings.

"The Screen on my PC is blank!!!"

"It's the power cord" I say

"No, I checked that.  When I switch it on, it does nothing!"

"It's the power cord" I say

"No, I checked and it's all plugged in properly.  There's no lights on the
keyboard or anything"

"It's the power cord" I say

"Oh.  I just noticed, the cord's not plugged in properly!"

"The power cord?" I ask

"Yes...  Woopsy"

"No worries at all" I say "Is it all working well now?"

"Yes, I think so.  I'm sorry, you WERE right all along"

"Yes, we're getting a lot of this, it's due to the current Global Warming
problem.  It causes random thermal expansion and contraction resulting in
temperature induced movement of friction based holding mechanisms.."

I listen carefully.  Nothing.  In other words, <DUMMY MODE ON>...

"You can fix it permanently tho'" I say

"Really?  How?"

"Well it's all to do with lowering salt deposits on the metal contacts"

"Oh!"  (Dummy mode irrevocably engaged)

"All you need to do is just take the power plug out deposit some dilute mineral
salts on it.  Do you have some dilute mineral salts on you?"

"Uh, no?"

"Ok, no worries, just stick it in your mouth drool into it.  But make sure you
wipe the plug first to get rid of any germs, and TURN THE SWITCH OFF ON THE
MONITOR before you do - we don't want a nasty accident

"Oh.  Ok!"

>Fzzzt< >clunk!<

I hang up as the receiver hits the floor.  Disk space is too good for them.

spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #12

  I get to work and I'm a bit tired so I plug a thick hunk of copper across the
 three  phase  supply  and  throw the switch.  The room is plunged into
darkness as the circuit breakers trip and for once the machine room is silent. 

I like it.

I pop the phone off the hook and close the curtains on the observation window.
Now it's *really* dark in there.  I wouldn't be surprised if someone had an
accident in here..

I lift a couple of floor tiles up in the darkness and call our maintenance
contractors saying the mini popped the breaker again, then replace the fuses in
it with a couple of nails and short the power supply to ground.  You can't just
hope for this sort of thing, you've got to MAKE it happen.

15 minutes later the engineer arives and falls down the hole.  I pop the floor
tiles back on just as the System Manager (a new and very thorough individual)
comes in, telling me to watch out, someone could really hurt themselves in the
dark...

I nod & tell him that we can't really afford all the downtime, and should I
just throw the breaker and hope that there was no major fault.  After thinking
about the negative publicity we're getting already, he makes the last decision
of his short career and tells me to go ahead.

Later, when the smoke clears I examine the smoking remains of the mini.  Not a
pretty sight...

"Strange that the breaker jammed shut, isn't it?" I say to our manager as he
packs up the personal things in his office.  "One in a million chance.  A pity
that someone saw what you did and posted the whole story to comp.misc.  You'll
be lucky to get a job managing a car computer after all that publicity..."

   I go back to the machine room and throw the rest of the breakers to liven
everything  up,  then  login  and  start  deleting  users'  email.  I spot an
interesting off-the-record sexual proposition from our male consultant to a
member of the men's swim team which will make a good motd, so I copy it there,
modify root's owner name to be "Winker" and password to be "ljkadlkajflkj" 
(then call the big boss to report a suspected intrusion).  Should be at least a
couple of hours of login time before we can sort that out.  In the meantime,
people are just going to have to read that message...
  I realise the message has been read when I hear the gunshot from behind the
consultant's closed door.

   I edit the online helpdesk information and change the phone number to the
System Manager's  -  he'll probably appreciate the extra calls at such a sad
time...

I hear another shot and realise he won't be answering any calls today.

I put the phone back on the hook and flip today's excuse card.  "Poor power
conditioning".  Too plausible.  "STATIC BUILDUP".  Still a bit too plausible
for my liking, but I don't want to run out of cards before the end of the year,
so I decide to run with it.

The phone rings almost as soon as I've got "Top Gun" in the video machine so I
pause the video and put the phone on hands-free.

"I think I've bought a bad floppy disk"

"Yes?"  I wonder if I've suddenly become the consumer's watchdog?

"Well, I've got this disk and it won't format.  All the others in the box did
so I thought I must have a bad disk"

"Why are you calling me about this?" I ask

"Well, the disk says guaranteed; where do I go to get a replacement?"

Ah!  Of course.

"Well, let's see.  Are you sure it's the disk, and not just some problem with
static buildup?"

"Huh?"

"Static Buildup, you know, static electricity that's passed from you to the
computer"

"But I'm wearing a wrist strap!"

Around about now I realise I'm deep in dweeb country.  Wrist straps aren't
fashion accessories in my part of town...

"Of course you are, but your average wrist strap has a 1 meg resistor in series
with it, a *really* poor earth.  What you need is a direct earth connection. 
Hang onto the frame of something that's earthed properly."

"What, you mean like our stainless steel bench?"

"Excellent.  Now, have you got a paper clip to discharge the static with?"

"Hang on.  Yeah"

"Ok, with your other hand, poke the clip thru the ventilation holes at the back
of the unit, and just touch the contact at the end of the thick red wire."

"The one going to the power supply?"

"Yep, that's it"

"....Hey, isn't that the li... >kzzzzt!<   >clunk<"

Another call solved by the helpdesk from hell...

spt@grace.waikato.ac.nz

**************************************************************************************

                        BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #13

I'm busy with my new shell replacement login script, and it's almost foolproof.
Let's just say it pops up with:

"Yes means No and No means Yes.  Delete all files [Y]? "

upon login.  I'm really starting to worry about the number of account breakins
we've been having recently....  The manager isn't though.  His main concern
appears to be the number of computer-related fatalities on campus.  Funny
world, isn't it?

I flip the excuse card.  "DOPPLER EFFECT"   Sounds implausible enough that it's
plausable - with a little work of course.

The phone, the bane of my existance, rings.

"Hello, Computer Room"   I say, being helpful

"Is this the Technicians?" The caller asks.

Amazing the number of deaf people that use these things.  What the hell, I'm
bored..

"Yes it is" I lie (Nixon could've done with me)

"I've got a problem with my floppy drive, it doesn't seem to be reading all the
time"

"Hmmm.  How old is the drive?"

"About a year.."

"And it sometimes fails and sometimes works, but it's starting to fail more and
more?"

"YES!"

"Yeah, it's the Doppler effect of magnetism.."

"I thought that only happened with light and sound?"

>Bullshit mode ON<

"Yes, well it's been found that on a spinning surface, like a disk, the
particle's magnetic alignment changes, especially when the head is stationary
and slightly magnetised in respect to it."

"Duh.  Oh"

"So, what you need to do is to demagnetise the head.  Have you got a disk head
demagnetising loop?"

"Uh....  No?"

"OK, we'll have to do it the hard way.  Have you got your original diskettes
for your software?"

"Yeah."

"Right, chuck them in the drive, one by one, and format them."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't worry, it won't work - remember the drive is failing.  All that happens
is that the virgin magnetic field of the disks realigns the magnetic field of
the head, because they weren't written by a doppler effected drive."

"Oh, yeah!"

"So, when it gives you a write error and asks if you want to continue, you say
yes.  Do it with all your original diskettes, then, to complete the
demagnetising process, run a head cleaning diskette through the drive as well,
which will pick up the stray magenetic particles clinging to the head."

"Oh.  Ok. Thanks"

"Don't thank me - IT'S MY JOB"

I put the phone down, it rings again.  It's the big boss.

"Simon, could you come to my office please?"

>ALERT!<

Quick as I can, I press the panic button on our LAN-Analyser, or to be more
precise, the "Generate 90% random traffic" button

"Sure, would you like me to come now, or..

The other phone rings.  I chuck it on hands free

"Hello, Computer Room, Simon Here, How can I help?"

"THE NETWORK IS DOWN, ALL OUR PCS HAVE SHIT THEMSELVES!" the voice on hands
-free screams into the mouthpeice of the other phone

"I see" I say calmly  "Yes, our Monitor shows it up, it looks to be a bad
segment of thinwire - please hold the line while I unplug it"

I press the "I just got a raise" button (AKA "Stop Traffic Generation") on the
Lan Analyser, and almost immediately the user shouts back "Excellent, it's
working now, thanks"

"That's ok, don't mention it.  Have a nice day"

The big-boss has been listening to all this, so I reckon that the trip to his
office won't be so bad after all.  I tell him I'll be right down as soon as I
secure the net and hang up.  On the way down, I invent a new buzzword which
always keep management happy.  Complete Transient Lockout.  Sounds much better
than pulling the plug.  Like Master-Reset sounds better than off-switch.

I get to his office and the staffing officer is there too.  Uh-oh.

"Simon - How would you like to be our System Manager?"

?!!!

"Well... I don't know, I like that hands on.."

"Extra 10 grand a year, Varisty Car.."

"Monaro?"

"Ok"

"Sold!"

 ....And so ends the saga, as it should have at #10.

**************************************************************************************

                The Bastard Operator from Hell Rides Again.

Don't ask how I got back, I just did.  Suffice to say that work frowns upon
management material  that  uses  electrodes  to  gain  client  information. 
Especially when you do it to the boss's in-laws.  That's his entertainment.

 So I'm back in the saddle.  Unfortunately, that means there's a surplus of
operators in the computer room.  One slam of the tape safe door later,  the
problem is solved.  The knocking dies down in a couple of hours, so I guess the
safes really *are* airtight.

  To welcome myself back, I send a message out saying there's a shutdown in 10 
minutes.   5 minutes later I shut the system down.   I love doing that. I see
the hard-disk activity lights flicker as the "disk recovery" phase of startup
run through,  globally deleting journal files.  Funny how we always start up
with lots of free disk..

I just get Wolfenstein started and the phone rings.  What the hell, I almost
missed it while I was away, so I answer it.

"Computer Room"  I say

"THAT WASN'T TEN MINUTES!!!!" the voice at the other end screams

"What wasn't 10 minutes?" I ask in a pleasant manner.  I can see that things
have deteriorated in my absence.  Spare the rod and spoil the rm -r, that's
what I always say.

"THAT!  You said it was going to be te... >pause<... Um, who is this?"  

"This is the Operator; who did you expect it to be?"

"Darren?  Is that Darren?"

"Uh, No.  Darren..  Darren is... unavailable... at the moment."

"Oh.  Do you know when he'll be back in the control room?"

"Probably around the time of our next backup - the year 2007 or sometime
thereabouts I should imagine"

He's toying with asking me if he can recover their files or not.  I let him
dangle for a few moments.

"Was that all?", I say, nice as pie

"Well....  NO, it doesn't matter"

"Of course it doesn't.  Would you like me to check if your files are ok?"  I   
 prompt

"Would you?  I'm a bit new to this system and I'm not too sure what to do"

"Sure.  What was your username?"

 Everything inside him is screaming at him not to say it - People beside him
are screaming at him not to say it.

He says it.

You just can't tell some people.

"Ok.  Well, it looks ok to me, all your files are in perfect condition!" I say

"THEY ARE!!  GREAT!!"

The relief in his voice is overwhelming

>clickety< >clickety<

"Yep.  Both your x-defaults and AND your newsrc file are ok"

"But.. But what about my site monitoring data?"

"Sorry?"

"There were about 10 files in my research subdirectory, data I'd collected over
the past year."

"Oh.  Well, I can't see anything.  Perhaps you backed them up somewhere?"

"I put a copy in my girlfriend's account.."

"What was her username?"

"Uh....  >pause<  ...  "

Is he going to do it?  Is he?

He does.

Like running down a snail with a steamroller...

>clickety clickety<

"Nope,  nothing  there  either.   OH!   Hang  on,  there  looks like some form
of journal file in your account, it's quite large...  I think maybe you should
login there and try to recover with it..."

I cat about 100 man files together and slop them in his girlfriends account
under then name "rsrch.j"

"How do I do that?"

"Ok; can you login yet?"

"Yeah, I think so.....    Ok, I'm logged in"

"Ok, You need to run the file thru the mailer to clear the eigth bit, other-
wise the journal recovery will probably choke with an instruction error"

>DUMMY MODE ON<

"Oh...   How do I do that?"

"Well, you have to type in `mail root < rsrch.j'"

"Ok!"

"HANG ON!  You have to type it with your nose."

"WH..?  WHY?"

I flip the excuse card till something appropriate pops up.  "HARDWARE STRESS
FRACTURES"

"Well, it's got to do with hardware stress fractures.  You probably type too
hard with your fingers which upsets the internals of the keyboard.  It's got to
do with dry joints and electromagnetic inductance"

>DUMMY MODE IRREVOCABLY ON<

"Oh.  Ok"

"Now, you've got to type it in 20 times"

"Sure, ok"

He hangs up.

I ring campus security

"Hey, we've got another crazy in the lab.  Apparently he's typing with his
nose.  He might be armed..."

3 minutes later I hear the shots.  I close his account, he won't be needing it
any more..


The phone rings.  It's my mum.

"Hi Ma, what can I do for you"

"Simon, I've got a problem at work, the floppy disk with all my personal stuff
on it is failing I think"

"Oh.  Ok.  Well, have you got any nail polish remover and some cotton wool
buds?"

"Yes"

"Ok, take your disk out, and clean that brown stuff off the inside of the disk.
That's what gets the heads dirty.  You should just have a nice clean plastic
disk when you've cleaned it completely"

"Oh, Ok Simon, Thanks"

"You're welcome.  Oh; remember that time you wouldn't let me go over to
Graeme's place to watch videos when I was 5?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing.."
-- 
Simon Travaglia, spt@waikato.ac.nz  

**************************************************************************************

         THE BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #15

  It's a warm afternoon in the computer room.  I dunno, maybe I should turn the
chillers back on, but what the hell, I've got a cold and I need to keep warm if
I go into the machine room.

I flip today's excuse card.  Magnetic Interferance from Money/Credit Cards.
Hmmm, vague enough to be plausible.  The phone rings

"Hello, Computer Room" I say
"Hi!"  the caller says  "I want to fit some RAM to my machine to upgrade the 
memory.  I just bought some 4 meg chips off a guy in town and wanted to know if
you guys would fit it."

"Well," I say "normally we would, but today the technicians are busy trying to
gas axe open our  tape  safe  to see why it smells - You could probably fit it
yourself though.."

"Really?  I thought that was dangerous?" she says

"Nah nah, it's safe as houses, just remember to get the chips out of those
stupid plastic bags before they stuff them up altogether"

"Really?!  How do they do that?"

"Well, you've heard of static RAM right?"

"Yes..."

"Well, Why pack static RAM in an antistatic bag?  Sounds really suspect if you
ask me!!!  Yours might even be stuffed already, so you'd better remove them.."

>D.M. ON<

"Oh >crinkle crinkle<  Ok.  Now what do I do?"

"Ok,  you'll  need  to get rid of the charge those bags have probably given
your RAM, after all, you don't want to blow up your computer, do you?  Get rid
of any woolens that you're wearing and switch to nylon.  Run round some cheap
carpet, then comb your hair a couple of dozen times and then plug the chips
into the comb to keep them steady.  Turn your machine on, then  plug the memory
in and out about 10 times to get the slots warmed up.  Then slop them back in, 
flick  the  power  switch half a dozen times and that should do it!"

"Hey thanks!"

"Don't mention a thing, all part of the service"

  I leave for lunch - after all I have been here for 10 minutes solid - and
walk past the student labs.  I hear a mass of beeping and look round to see a
user's  screen  full  of  garbage.  They've either typed an image file or
fingered  my account and got the core file I renamed as .plan.  By the time he
gets his terminal sorted out, his allocation of connect time will be all used
up.  A tragic shame.

I get back from lunch early a couple of hours later and slip into the Usenet
news directory tree,  slide  on down to alt.binaries.pictures.erotica,  then
start deleting parts 3 or 4 of the really long gifs.  (After taking a copies
myself and overwriting them to the last user backup tape, of course).

 Then I get ready to watch the videos I got out from the video shop by taking
the printers offline and disconnecting the phone, and I notice that the frame
-grabber video player is gone from the office.   Someone  has obviously moved
it while I was away...

 I make some discrete enquiries under the threat of rm -r, and find out that
the  secretary now has posession of it.   So I mosey on down and ask to take it
away.  Only I can't because I've got to sign *THE BOOK*,  saying  when it will 
be  back,  how many minutes of tape I'm going to put thru it,  if I'm going to
be watching PAL or NTSC etc.  Then it's all fed into her *personal* computer
(which I'm not allowed to touch because it doesn't belong to us) so she can
produce full colour plots about who's not working in the department.

I mention that it's not coming back - as I was the person that put the hammer
through the frame grabber in the first place,  I  should  be  the one to hold
the video.   She then tells me that that's not acceptable, and I will have to
find some other video to use, she needs access to get to the video 24 hours a
day, in case someone needs it.  And because she takes her PC home at night, I
needn't think that I can fake any borrowing records.  All this I see for what
it really is - a thinly disguised attempt to gain access to the seat of power
(The Operators Room) by the Bastard Secretary from Hell.

   I decide to let it slide for once,  after  all she does get the snail mail
into  the  correct distribution slots about 20% of the time, so that can't be
so bad.

     Next morning, I get in about 2pm and find that I have three departmental
memos about  the  status of other stuff that is in the Computer Room that has
been "incorrectly inventorised" as "Awaiting Repair" (The shithead technician
has been leaking  privileged  information in an effort to score the secretary
again - A tragic shame, I used to quite like him..) with  a note from the Big
Boss  authorizing  the  secretary  to investigate.  Attached to all that is a
note from the secretary herself stating that to action this she requires a 24
hour access key to the Computer Room.

ONCE AGAIN I realise that letting things slide never pays off.  I look up the
secretary's  RS232, Ethernet,  Appletalk and Phone port numbers and yank them
from the comms rack.  What the hell, I kick the circuit breakers to her power
points and lighting too while I'm at it.  Then I strip off some mains cable &
plug it in..

The phone rings a couple of minutes later.

"WHAT'S HAPPENED TO MY ROOM?!" the secretary screeches at me.

"Your room?" I say, in a pleasant and innocent manner, using caller ID to      
 track down the room she's in.  Ah! Just down the corridor

"Yes, MY ROOM!  The power's gone off and everything is dead"

"Oh  dear.   What were you doing when the power went  off?   Perhaps you did
something stupid?"

"I did NOT!  I was working on *my* PC!"

The way she says "*my*" is really getting to annoy me.

"You were working on *your* PC?" I say, reflectively.

"Yes!" She snarls

"Not your *own* *very personal* computer?"

"Yes.."  She doesn't know what I'm getting at yet.

And now I exercise the basic law of Bastard Operating which roughly says,
Bastard Operators don't just win.  Anyone can win.   Bastard Operators win and
totally DEMORALISE.  That's *real* winning.

"I hope you switched your machine off before you called"

"Why?" she barks, a little uncertain.

"Well, it's just that personal property isn't covered by the site insurance
policy.  Why, if there was a power surge, heaven knows WHAT could happen to an
expensive peice of delicate *personal* machinery like..."

I hear her place the receiver down *very* quietly and sprint on tippy toe to
the door.  As I repeatedly toggle her circuit breaker I start thinking about
what I'll be watching on video this afternoon...  Still on the phone, I hear a
bang way in the background which probably means her pc has shit itself...

10 minutes later the phone in the control room.  It's the secretary, and she
sounds a little stressed.   I  manage  to  translate her sporadic outbursts
into a request that her lines be connected to her terminal.  I tell her they
are, and has she got the technician to look at it.   She hangs up.

No sense of humour.

        10 minutes later still, the technician rings up and tells me all the
secretaries lines are dead.  I tell him I'll check them out,  then  plug her
ethernet, phone and Appletalk back in.  Which leaves RS232...

  Another 10 minutes later I'm startled out of my snooze by the phone.  It's
the  technician  still  greasing the secretary by being super-efficient.  He
tells me the RS232 still isn't working.  I make some excuse about dry joints on
the plug etc,  and  ask  him  to put a new plug on the cable.  I hear the
>snip!< as he clips the old plug off, and the receiver rattle as he starts to
strip the wire in a manly way with his teeth.  Then I connect the mains cable
to my end of the RS232.

As soon I hear the ">ERRRRRREEEERRKKK!<" coming down the receiver at me, I know
that the "incorrect inventory" problem won't be repeated.

Another problem solved by the Bastard Operator from Hell

It's a dirty, filthy, stinking dog-kill-dog job, but someone's got to enjoy it

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is the final chapter  (at least for a while).  I'm off to find a job in
Britian  somewhere  in  a  couple of weeks,  so I'll let BOFH rest.  Funnily
enough, someone sent me a copy of BOFH #1 with someone else's name as author
the other day - they thought I might be interested in it.. Live long and
prosper!                - Simon                 spt@waikato.ac.nz
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- End of File -

Ubiquitous - Issue 1, File 10:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Final Comments:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 OK! Still with us? Good! Well much of that shit was written quite a while
ago. I was waiting a one person to write up an article on defeating
character traps on FTP sites (especially warez sites!!). Well I never got
the article, so the mag's kinda late! Oh well shit happens!!

 Now before you start saying that I'm plagiarizing Red Knight for his
Zapping and Vending Machine articles, let me say that "THAT WAS ME!!". I
changed that handle cause it was so lame!!! I used to have another handle
which I used when I first wrote those articles but changed it when I started
uploading it.  An interesting observation to make is that once I called the
Hacker's Haven in the U.S.A and found both the vending and Zapping files had
beaten me there!!! And yes they did have that lame handle!!!

 Secondly, I am including things like BOFH in their ENTIRETY. This is the
work of somebody else and I am merely including it as a highlight of computer
folklore to people who haven't experienced it!! It is important to note that
a while ago, some FUCKING LAMER renamed the BOFH files as his/her own.
Whoever this was is a prick/bitch!! The REAL and RIGHTFUL author of this cool
piece of work is Simon Travaglia and if anyone disputes that I'll rip their
kneecaps off!!

 Finally, I will be setting up ways (probably through other people) to
contact me and submit articles. I can be contacted on the Australian Board
Neural Hijack. To submit articles there simply send PRIVATE mail to me under
the subject heading of RE: Ubiquitous. Probably best if you tell me you have
an article or material to submit and included a zipped file of the article
with it! Mail me for info on submitting articles!

 The next issue will be more or less the shape of future articles to come.
But between now and then there are people to talk to and regulars to
recruit!!! So until then, Stay free and have fun!!

Regards,

mE!

November 1996.

- End of File -
