From: toto@fhouse.org
Date: Thu, 13 Aug 1998 08:15:20 -0700 (PDT)
To: cypherpunks@toad.com
Subject: Deaf Cons 5.9.1
Message-ID: <TCPSMTP.18.8.13.9.29.16.2847582152.1143271@fhouse.org>
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Content-Type: text/plain

                          *** The Fire House Inn ***
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Deaf Cons 5.9.1 - SPACE ALIENS HIDE MY DRUGS!!!

_________________________________________________________



[EditWhore's Left Note: The Author, once again finding HimOrHerSelf

 hounded by the Hounds of Hell from anything remotely resembling a

 functional computer system, is once again composing HerOrHis SPAMOLOGIES 

on a Sperry Type 3070-02 computer with 128K of RAM, which seems to be

capable of adequately storing only about a page and a half of text at

any given point in time, even using a rudimentary editor such as edlin.

The Reader need not fear, however, that this small setback will keep the

Author from generating HisOrHer UsualQuantity of USDA DisApproved SPAM

and flinging it in the general direction of the CypherPunks Disturbed

Male LISP, although this, what may indeed be the final chapter of SAHMD,

will undoubtedly be sent to the list in thinly-sliced servings, suitable

for serving as SnackFood at CypherPunks Physical Meetings, labeled as

TruthMonger Caviar.]



[Arthur's Right Nut: After having had tens of thousands of dollars worth

of computer hardware and software stolen from me by various LEAs, as a

result of being so uncouth as to refer to the Government Penis (TM) being

inserted into the BungHoles of the Citizenry a 'BIG HAIRY DICK,' I found

it rather amusing to have an attendee of Deaf Cons 6.0 (for *some* of

the people, who made it to the end of the conference) inform me that he

had been following 'The True Story Of The InterNet' manuscripts, and

was disappointed in the "erratic quality of the finished product."

I replied, with as straight a face as possible, that I, myself, had

recently received a SnailMail correspondence from Kevin Mittnick, but

had thrown it in the garbage without reading it, since I found the quality

of the prison stationary it was written on to be substandard.

As well, since it appeared that the BumsRush/NoseFirstIntoThePavement

that I received from Plaza Hotel Security was the result of being

RattedOut for some ImaginedCrime (TM) by a Deaf Cons 6.0 staff member

who somehow felt that I, as a CommonCitizen, was not entitled to provide

the same type of falsified evidence against myself as the RCMP are

currently manufacturing. I was tempted, upon making my exit to suggest

to the staff member that Kevin Mittnick (a Deaf Cons DemiGod) would be

making an appearance later, and should also be RattedOut, in the interest

of preventing the attendees from being cast in a bad light by their

association with him.]





Bottom Line:

"It's a Predatorial Universe..."



  My journey to Deaf Cons 6.0 was actually for the purpose of having a

chat with <erewhon@dis.org>, in regard to the interest that the Secret

Service seemed to show in my <hee-hee> personal <ha-ha> email correspondence

with him over the InterNet.



  I had actually *gambled* my way to Lost Wages, having had a dream about

Castles and such, then going to the DoubleDiamondCasino in Tucson, and

turning $20.00 into $100.00, on a quarter slot-mnachine with knights and

castles, etc., in order to get travelling money.

  Once at Deaf Cons 6.0, I found out that the individual I was seeking

had short-cropped hair, with an Atom tattoo'd (?) on the back of hisskull.

One of the DoorMen/Staff was kind enough to provide me with an Pass,

in order to help me locate AtomHead. (My lack of success in doing so

might will have been due to my inability to refrain from exercising

my sick sense of humor, informing people, "Tell him that I have a

warrant for him.")



  Having had all of my offers to provide anyone interested with a password

into the Royal Canadian Mounted Police computer system rebuffed, even

having gone so far as to offer disks containing an RCMP BackDoor as prizes

at the conference, I decided to change my plans and just give away the

SonsOfBitches at random, accompanied with the advice that, since the

floppies had my fingerprints all over them, and they contained LjEA

WaterMarks identifying them as disks created on my personal computer

system, they would make ideal 'Evidence' to be left behind at the

scene of "bizarre and meaningless crimes," such as bombing the rubble

the former Murrah Federal Building in OKC.

  My parting words to the BlessedRecipients of my QuestionableGifts was,

"Since the RCMP's attempts to set me up are RatherLame (TM), I figure

that I ought to do what I can to help them out, since, anything they can

do, I can do better."



[Note From The Author:Besides using the conference as an opportunity to

engage in my continuing, tireless efforts at SelfDegradation, I also

took the time to help out one of our fellow CypherPunks, Lucky Green,

who was a featured speaker at Deaf Cons 6.0.

 Realizing that none of the attendees were likely to show much interest

in such a boring and arcane subject as SmartCards, I told everyone I

encountered that Lucky's lecture had been canceled, and that, in its

place, I would be giving a lecture entitled, "How I Broke PGP," although

I stressed that I would not be providing any specific details, because

if I shared the secrets I learned in my Grade 4 math class with just

GodAndEverybody, then EncryptionAsWeKnowIt would suffer a devastating

blow from which it might never recover.

 Although I was given the BumsRush out of the building just as Lucky was

taking the stage, I am certain that he probably weathered the catcalls

and hurled objects quite well, eventually winning over the angry mob that

had gathered.]