h0ul.txt

H0ul 
By Bad BIOS

For Hackers everywhere

I.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by left-clicks, pornhub starved naked, 
dragging themselves through the Tenderloin streets at dawn looking for Silk Road v2,

angelheaded hipsters burning from the Grinder meetup last weekend, absorbed by the scheduled
HIV test calendar popups plaguing their iPhone screen in the starry night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural glow of
three or four monitors of github, Linux kernel source trees, ECDSA, contemplating bloom filters,

who bared their braines to Heaven under the El and saw Syrian Electronic Army angels ravaging
Israeli websites illuminated,

who passed through universities with radiant antennae, scanning for chancellor tragedies 
with DECT receivers,

who were expelled from #!w00w00 and #!!ben for crazy & publishing obscene rants on phrack.ru
streaking letters across their chest in black ink,

who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in backyards by the millions through
mushroom tinted eyes, watching for Terror through the windowpane,

who got busted in their pubic beards returning through NYC with a belt filled with USB dongles
for Miami,

who drank blenders full of psychedelic smoothies in hotels in Paradise to celebrate their credit
cards and database dumps,

with dreams, with drugs, with walking pastebin posts, alcohol and craigslist and endless DEFCON parties,

incomparable blind SQL injection of shuddering administrators' minds leaping toward forensic audits
of Ernst and Young, illuminating all the motionless world of a snapshot from a compromised server,

0day trades in halls, hackathon Facebook cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness on the rooftops of an Angel Investor's San Franciscan townhouse, tossing change from these heights to the disconnected InterNots under the blinking traffic lights, vibrations emanating from Bitcoin mining servers in Brooklyn, ashcan rantings of the importance of click-counts,

who chained themselves to cubicles for the endless promise to IPO "sometime soon" on Ritalin and Adderall until the noise of the IRS and foreclosure brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered brain drained of PHP code
pseudo-brilliance in the dreary light of Menlo Park,

who sank all night in reddit light of /r/Whatever floating pop-ups and sitting through endless 
commercials before the latest Miley Cyrus paparazzi drone surveillance video plays,

who talked continuously seventy hours from park to helipad with Chase Bank financial services executives
while hovering over the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost generation of conversation and self-induced autism, brought on by the countless hours of 
integrating something into some other shit, trying to achieve To The Moon,

yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering gossip and false memories about the conference in Vegas
last year and how HD Moore was punched in the face,

whole intellects disemboweled by their own rejected PoC||GTFO submissions, meat for the elites to cast
into #feed-the-goats,

who vanished into nowhere Zen San Diego leaving a trail of ambiguous Four Square "check ins" and Instagram
snapshots,

suffering Nor'Easter chills and hurricane metal grinding metal racing to save Chinese manufacturered
circuit boards from impending floods of investors who clamber to curtail losses,

who wandered around and around datacenter rows at midnight wondering which server that fan sound was
coming from, then left, caught in an error correction in their own mind,

who lit cigarettes in bars regardless of the fucking San Franciscan self-righteous ban on organ 
mutilation because the latest version of the 2.0 launched without a hitch,

who studied not plaguez ktwo FreeLSD source files, but retarded NLP social engineering psychotics, 
because they convinced themselves they once got a woman to sleep with them through mind control,

who loned it through the streets of Singapore seeking soft, gentle ladies, who weren't soft, gentle
ladies,

who though they were mad when Justin Bieber DoS'd their presentation only to discover it allowed the
audience to feel more engaged,

who jumped in Ubercabs with the only true female assassin left from #hack on the impulse of opiates
and singing trolleys,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through Austin sure of themselves when approached by a camera and
asked about nonexistent indie rock bands, and settling for herpes manifested into the figure of a
raven haired seamstress wearing a crown of posies,

who disappeared into the volcanoes of Iceland leaving behind hundreds of thousands of ISK unpaid
to neighbors and sponsors and ravenous tattooed sleeves and slicked back hair,

who reappeared in Australia investigating the subtleties of .Net callbacks with pacifist eyes
and incomprehensible leaflets about the tenants of security review process,

who burned their arms fixing overheated StingRay servers in darkened vans near protests against the 1%,

who distributed Anonymous pamphlets in Union Square weeping and masking their faces behind cheap white
plastic while the ex-employees of Los Alamos National Laboratories snatched their IMSI from the airwaves and correlated them with user identification databases from AT&T,

who broke down crying in the Capture the Flag room at the Rio, trembling at the size of School of Root,

who snickered at white hats walking the paisley laced carpets because their passwords were posted on 
Wall of Sheep,

who howled about gender equality in the halls of Vegas only to be dragged out of the pool waving 
genitals and printed power point slides,

who let themselves be fucked by lanky pale autistic intellectuals in hopes of cashing in on their 
NSA exploit sales,

who pwned and were pwned by those wasteful Androids, the KitKat, Cupcake, and JellyBean,

who balled hard wearing sharp suits in the evenings, teasing thigh highs and stilettos, hoping
to scatter their semen freely among their quarterly earnings,

who champagne hiccuped endlessly seated in a VIP table at TAO nightclub while having their sword
caressed by a booth babe,

who lost their fiancee to three old men from Red Lambda who, like their company, would leave her
with nothing but promises and the need for a therapist,

who penetrated an under-dressed hacker groupie in a Ballys elevator with a beer bottle then bragged
about it on IRC, claiming to have rolled in the hallways among her silken but hog-heavy skin, letting
a cigarette burn the soiled carpets, engulfed in a vision of fractal bash shells,

who teased at the honey dipped bottoms of women laid lazy among the leaves and lakes of northern 
California, curvature of the limbs glistening along with the morning dew,

who went out whoring through Colorado, planning to kick off a security conference in Aspen or Vail,
because marijuana was finally legal for recreational purchase, not realizing that no one is allowed
to smoke in public, then thriving on the memories of smoking in empty lots, diner alleys, or 
tinted cars, like a criminal,

who misshapen and paste-colored exclaimed wild syllables contorted and conjoined but always resulting
in the ever-present "I'm in" as hexadecimal patterns flood screens within screens while cameras film
do-nothings and executive producers stand proud with arms crossed next to movie consultants,

who walked all night with their shoes full of blood in the African plains, bringing water and shelter
to needful dark skinned brilliance bottled in cringing cry-stained soma,

who created great suicide prevention slide decks and talked confidently and correctly about understanding
depression and emotional disturbance in Boston, the moonlight crowning their black opal hair, tossed
like healthy grape vines on her head,

who ate poisoned meals in Phuket, or Bali, or where ever the fuck we were, 

who wept at the loss of exceptional minds with their saline drips and pacemakers broken like the hearts 
of the loved ones left behind,

who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness of a presidential flight, and rose up to release records 
stolen from NSA's secret series of tubes,

who coughed during ridiculous assertions that encryption will save us all, forgetting that centralized
certificate authorities are no authority at all,

who scribbled all night on pads of paper yelling howdy and neighbor on massive tufts of powdered 
caffeine which in the French morning were brilliant breakthroughs on radio packet injection,

who cooked animals whose throats were slit by his own hand in a bid to stop eating meat that was 
was slaughtered by industrialists only to realize he had become his own machine,

who plunged themselves into IDA looking for Easter eggs,

who proudly displayed their expensive watches, half paid and diamond studded, while awaiting a call
to cast their ballot toward another wasted fake election to sit on a board for a certificate that
no one respects,

who cut their wrists nine times when they received the rejection letter from DARPA and Black Hat and
SyScan, and B-Sides Austin, quitting information security in a massive twitter fight only to emerge
in southern Georgia selling books on Karma to acid heads,

who were burned alive by the press for releasing a well-intentioned app to assist secure communications
while the ignorant and spiteful called it an easy way for teens to "sext" each other, pouting, 
fashion forward, brash, shot back at the faeries of advertising with heather colored strings of 
angel's hair and patient smiles,

who attempted to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge but was stopped by a passerby who happened to recognize
the LulzSec t-shirt, and was walked to a Chinese dumpling truck to wait out the LSD's peak, talking 
all night seated on the sidewalk under millions of eyes staring intently through chocolate-colored smog,

who sang at Karaoke sessions world wide proudly and with passionate voice as the uninitiated looked on
in amazement, unsure of the suppressed talent emerging scarlet and fire from the bones of a poised
and big eyed lady, who knows Irish poets, Scottish malt, and can out-code you,

who barreled down the interstate in shimmering black contours, pulled over on the side of the road to
assist fellow man, when good intentions resulted in flames higher than Oakland rooftops, as the 
shimmering machine melted into the California coastline,

who drove cross-country twenty-two hours to find out if the warehouse near Canada was going to 
accommodate for the overheating servers being used to cluster-mine Bitcoin, or whether the millions
of dollars would be better spent reviving a clandestine LSD manufacturing lab,

who journeyed to Denver, who died in San Antonio, who came back to Denver and waited for a Catholic
mystic to watch over his soul, waiting eternal on the top of a hill in Morrison, as Allah's plan
unfolds,

who fell on their knees in a professor's apartment with cock to lips suckling at the salvation of a 
night off of the Seattle streets, and deciding to stay for months on end because why not,

who crashed drunkenly through crowds on a golf cart, an impending accident, which resulted in a man
wearing goggles to be knocked into chlorinated water as if this were an Adam Sandler film, giving 
birth to a legend,

who retired to Belize to cultivate a habit of salts and sexual slavery and Buddha and gunshots and
guard dogs, as insanity exacerbated the man into legend in an international man hunt ending with
a geo-ip look-up equivalent to a face-palm,

who demanded sanity trials accusing the government and AT&T of witch hunts and were left with solitary
confinement and attempting to tweet from payphones monitored by lard accented bellies,

who threw cream-filled pies at Bill Gates because they misunderstood the problem, and remote exploits
like DCOM hadn't even been written, yet,

and who were given books on self-love, narcissistic parents, Tiger Moms, plasticine emotional outlets,
but best assisted by beer pong,

who in humorless cars plated with NTFNY actually ended up being pretty decent human beings,

New York Poly's St. George Clark's fetid halls, echoes of bickering religious arguments, Emacs vs.
Vim, Linux vs. BSD, who cares vs. fuck you, wishing for sexual stimulation, masturbatory nightmares of
touching female flesh,

with cock in hand passed out and Brazzers flickering in the dorm room night like a tiny sparkler 
firework raging against the dying of its own night at 4 A.M. as the last Blackberry was thrown 
mercilessly against the wall after the girl's reply of "no, not tonight", because she preferred the
blonde swimmer with the iPhone, and he knew their kiss was just a hallucination - 

ah, Dino, while you are not safe I am not safe, because no-one uses PaX/grsec anymore, and we're in
what we thought was a walled garden of time -

and who therefore ran a command within these walls, obsessed with our private photos, SnapChat partners,
and Silent Circle phone calls, secured with an elliptic curve, the public key a point identified by
the decrepit outstretched finger of the NSA,

who watches us as we slather each other with saliva and semen, engorged databases making their women
gasp in omniscient orgasm, climaxing at the unification of All The Tubes, twisting and turning under
the oceans like intestinal tracts, digesting not our thoughts, but what we will think,

to recreate the syntax and measure of exploit writers, white-paper releasers, protesters, and trolls,
to know the human behind the Tor, the socks5, the SSH tunnel, forcing them speechless and dulling 
their intelligence, shaking them with the shame of exposure,

the madman inside #phrack and the angel in #crocodile-wrestling, rejected by their peers yet persisting
in their evil or altruism, the yin and yang of hacker legend, where will they hide when it is All 
Logged,

will they be reincarnated in the ghostly clothes of geohotz and pinkiepie, whose fingers churn out
exploits at a rate of 100 dollars per minute, granting America the rights to watch them slide their 
skin over circuits, like the first fingers to glide cautiously and lovingly over the release of the 
Nintendo, 

with the absolute heart of Hackers butchered and commoditized like Angelina and Jonny Lee, re-released
for theaters only in a thousand years,

II

What My Little Pwnie of plastic and neoprene unlaced their soul from their brain and consumed their
imagination?

Buffer overflow! Heap corruption! Format string! SQL Injection! XSS and unobtainable Cookies! Epileptic
nightmares triggered by web forum posts! Streaming video from drones lacking encryption! ADS-B hacked!

0day! 0day! Nightmare of 0day! 0day in Android! 0day in brain-computer interface! 0day the heavy
judge of source code and project!

0day the incomprehensible prison! 0day the soulless jailhouse and new item on Congress' agenda! 0day
whose buildings are vast tinted and signal-jammed halls in Virginia and Maryland! 0day the vast stone
of war! 0day ALL the governments! 

0day whose mind is pure machinery! 0day whose blood is running money! 0day whose fingers are ten
million armies! 0day whose breast provides the milk of curiosity to the cannibalistic intellect! 0day
whose ear is a parabolic microphone!

0day whose eyes are Five! 0day whose skyscrapers were built with DoD funds! 0day whose factories are
sweat shops in Chinese military camps! 0day whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown spook centers!

0day whose love is endless oil and gold! 0day whose soul id electricity and banks! 0day whose poverty
is the specter of genius! 0day whose fat is a cloud of sexless halon fire suppression! 0day whose 
name is the mind!

0day in whom I sit lonely behind a computer terminal! 0day in whom I dream of angel headed college
sluts! Crazy in 0day! Cocksucker in Swordfish for 0day! Lacklove and heartless in 0day!

0day who entered my soul early! 0day in whom I am a consciousness on a command line! 0day who
frightened me out of using Apache for years at a time! 0day whom I abandon! Wake up in 0day! Data
streaming out of our cellphones to the blood-red sky! 

0day! 0day! Robot apartments! Invisible Sim City suburbs! Templates for Github projects! Blind SQL
injection! Demonic industry! Nations turned Spectre! Invincible sweat shops of madmen! Silicon cocks!
Monstrous Stuxnet! 

They broke their backs lifting 0day for dollars! Cell towers, carrier-signals, radios, signal jammers, 
oscilloscopes! Lifting the city to radiation which exists and is everywhere about us! 

Netflix! Wikipedia! Urban Dictionary! Playboy! Gone down the American born tubes! 

Youtube! TMZ! The Dail Mail! Scientology! The whold boatload of sensitive bullshit! 

Breakthroughs! Over the east river! Thunderbolt adapters to Ethernet! Repurposed femtocells! Simulated
GPS! Ten years' animal screams, threatened suicides, overdoses, and psychotic breaks! Minds! New loves!
Mad generation! Logged in the bowels of Facebook! 

Real holy laughter in the IRC channels! They saw it all coming! The wild eyes! The holy yells! They bade
farewell to the techno-less! They jumped off the roof! To ethereal solitude within a predefined secure
namespace! Waving! Sending digital flowers and e-cards! Down to the datastream! Into the forums! 

III

Dragos! I'm with you in Vancouver
	where you're madder than I am

I'm with you in Vancouver
	where you must feel very strange

I'm with you in Vegas
	where they imitate the shade of my sunglasses

I'm with you in San Francisco
	where you've murdered your own researchers

I'm with you in New York City
	where you laugh at this invisible humor

I'm with you in Ft. Meade,
	where we are great writers in the same dreadful subversion repository

I'm with you in Damascus,
	where your condition has become serious and is reported on the Internet

I'm with you in Tehran,
	where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses

I'm with you in St. Louis,
	where you drink with the desperate housewives of suburbia

I'm with you in Brooklyn,
	where you dance in the heads of scarf tying poseurs in pretentious art halls

I'm with you in Brooklyn,
	where you scream in a straight jacket that you're losing the Capture the Flag game of the abyss

I'm with you in Detroit,
	where you bang on the 808 the soul is digital and immortal and should never be shut down
	by the hands of men in black

I'm with you in Austin,
	where fifty more hours of reverse engineering while never return your soul to its body after
	its pilgrimage to a cross on EFnet

I'm with you in Hollywood,
	where you accuse doctors of infecting your children with autism and plot the glitter-laden
	revolution against the CDC and other haters

I'm with you in Arizona,
	where you will split open and melt before the tongues of heathens as they caress each other in
	loving embrace, your Jesus hung heavy in your hearts

I'm with you in PLA Unit 61398,
	where there are twentyfive thousand mad comrades all together singing the final stanzas of some
	stereotypical rock anthem like Bananarama's remake of Na Na Hey Hey

I'm with you in London,
	where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets; the United States that whines and
	plots all night and won't let us sleep

I'm with you in Kiev,
	where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the roof
	they've come to drop angelic bombs on the hospital illuminates itself
	imaginary walls collapse
	O hopeful legions run outside 
	Align via Twitter and fight the good fight
	With sticks laden with iron nails, fit to crucify one limb at a time
	The eternal war is here
	Forget your underwear 

I'm with you in Abbottabad,
	in my dreams you walk dripping from your sea-journey on the mountain pass to crawl alone into a 
	cave atop the Western face, in tears, watched by a 
	National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency satellite