Administratrivia

[sod () command com inter net (Scriptors of DOOM)]

Dear Mom,

Hi.  It's me.  I know it's been a long time since I've written, but you know
that I've been really busy as of late.  I heard that Snoopy died, and I'm
heartbroken, but I know it's a good thing since he was old and he's in
a better place now.

Anyway, I haven't told you yet exactly what's been keeping me busy, and I
mean beside my sordid drug binges.  You see, I've been working alot with
the Internet, you remember that big computer-thing that I told you about?
Well, I remembered how you and Dad always told me that it was better to
give than to receive, so I've been giving away "exploits" to these HP/UX
computers, and I just have to say that I think you and Dad were right all
along.  I've been giving away so many security bugs that people have
started contacting me and they're giving me the bugs that they've been
working on.  Not only that, I've got four different computer companies and
software manufacturers trying to hire me out of my current pimping job;
various governments, foreign and domestic, have sent big-breasted prostitutes
to my door with a droppers full of LSD to melt my brain; I got four free
passes to the new Star Trek movie from some anonymous stranger whose note
said simply "Keep up the good work"; and HP has hired at least one hit-man
to come assassinate me in colorful, violent ways.  Life has been fun as of
late.

If you want to see what I've been up to, point your Web browser over to
http://command.com.inter.net/~sod/ and poke around.  Me and the Gang have
put up a buffer overflow in /bin/passwd this week, and we've also started
a new section for all the bugs that other people are sending us.  I hope
you like it, Mom.

Well, I've got to run -- I've got a meeting with Bill Gates in a few minutes
and I plan on polishing his skull and taking it home as a souvenir.  Tell
Dad I'm sorry to hear about Snoopy and I'd pray it's soul if it had one
but it didn't so I won't.

                                I hate you and I hope you die,
                                Your son, Colonel Panic


SPECIAL INVITATION TO OUR FRIENDS AT HP:

So, you've seen the page.  You've seen multiple weeks of the page and you
are fully aware now of what is going down.  You're just starting to field
customer questions and complaints, and the heat is turning up ever so
slightly in that goddamn kitchen.

You wondered aloud what the hell could drive a person to do this to your
company.  You told your wife about it and she said she didn't really
understand, and that it was just too complex for her.  Your went to your
parish priest and asked for spiritual guidance and he said to say thirty
"Hail Mary's" and to pray for forgiveness.  You phoned the congressman for
your district and found out that she was Democrat and couldn't help you.
You sent three separate letters to the Pope, the President, and Donald Trump
and have yet to receive a reply.  You made a mecca to India to gather advice
from the Most High & Revered Swami Baba O'Reilly, and he told you to fast and
avoid dairy products.  You were abducted by aliens who, umm, probed you and
told you not to remember where you were for those six hours -- you thought
it was another episode of the X-files.  Your physical body deteriorated into
an amorphous mass of gelatinous pulp and your meta-physical spirit created
an intense energy vortex which formed a small but intensely powerful
worm-hole that sucked you and your entire apartment through time and space
into a dimension known only as "Samadhi" to the mystics where divine beings
take turns pointing at you and laughing.

You have just had a very good day.  Finish it off by browsing on over to
http://command.com.inter.net/~sod/ and see what hell hath wrought this time.