"Bruce Sterling - CyberView '91" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sterling Bruce)

One might wonder why, in the second decade of the
personal-computer revolution, most computer intruders are still
suburban teenage white whiz-kids. Hacking-as-computer-intrusion
has been around long enough to have bred an entire generation of
serious, heavy-duty adult computer-criminals. Basically, this
simply hasn't occurred. Almost all computer intruders simply
quit after age 22. They get bored with it, frankly. Sneaking
around in other people's swimming pools simply loses its appeal.
They get out of school. They get married. They buy their own
swimming pools. They have to find some replica of a real life.

The Legion of Doom -- or rather, the Texas wing of LoD -- had
hit Saint Louis in high style, this weekend of June 22. The
Legion of Doom has been characterized as "a high-tech street
gang" by the Secret Service, but this is surely one of the
leakiest, goofiest and best-publicized criminal conspiracies in
American history.

Not much has been heard from Legion founder "Lex Luthor" in
recent years. The Legion's Atlanta wing, "Prophet," "Leftist,"
and "Urvile," are just now getting out of various prisons and
into Georgia halfway-houses. "Mentor" got married and writes
science fiction games for a living.

But "Erik Bloodaxe," "Doc Holiday," and "Malefactor" were here
-- in person, and in the current issues of TIME and NEWSWEEK.
CyberView offered a swell opportunity for the Texan Doomsters to
announce the formation of their latest high-tech, uhm,
organization, "Comsec Data Security Corporation."

Comsec boasts a corporate office in Houston, and a marketing
analyst, and a full-scale corporate computer-auditing program.
The Legion boys are now digital guns for hire. If you're a
well-heeled company, and you can cough up per diem and air-fare,
the most notorious computer-hackers in America will show right
up on your doorstep and put your digital house in order --
guaranteed.

Bloodaxe, a limber, strikingly handsome young Texan with
shoulder-length blond hair, mirrored sunglasses, a tie, and a
formidable gift of gab, did the talking. Before some thirty of
his former peers, gathered upstairs over styrofoam coffee and
canned Coke in the hotel's Mark Twain Suite, Bloodaxe sternly
announced some home truths of modern computer security.

Most so-called "computer security experts" -- (Comsec's
competitors) -- are overpriced con artists! They charge gullible
corporations thousands of dollars a day, just to advise that
management lock its doors at night and use paper shredders.
Comsec Corp, on the other hand (with occasional consultant work