Forty years ago, The MentorโLoyd Blankenshipโpublished โThe Conscience of a Hackerโ in Phrack.
You bet your ass weโre all alikeโฆ weโve been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steakโฆ the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. Weโve been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world nowโฆ the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasnโt run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We exploreโฆ and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledgeโฆ and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious biasโฆ and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe itโs for our own good, yet weโre the criminals.
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.