Apparently global warming is progressing faster than anyone anticipated. And the Lord remaketh the face of the Earth and causeth the waters to run freely over her surface. Or something. I don't know if anyone has noticed something that is becoming clearer with every newspaper I read...probably some have, some haven't...EVERYTHING IS FUCKED. I don't mean everything is a little bad but maybe there is enough good to outweigh it, I really do mean EVERYTHING IS FUCKED. We are fucked right down to the bottom of our apathetic, scared little souls. Fuck you and fuck me too.

I never used to follow the news at all - couldn't care less about politics, economics - never intended to have a job if I could help it...but ever since NATO invaded Kosovo and started bombing Serbia I've been buying a newspaper or reading the news online, every day. And at the same time as I am increasing my knowledge of the fucking bullshit and suffering that makes headlines every day, the lesson is not being lost on me that in buying the newspaper I am part of the problem.

What problem?

We have to have STORIES. We are bound by the nature of our thought, our need for stories. To see the Hero rise and fall, to see the Good Land destroyed and rebuilt, to see the Great Cycle playing itself out a million times, a billion times, it would never be enough because through the stories we are bound to our own wheel of fire, the endless wheel and labyrinth of our mind, our collective mind.

The collective unconscious is many things, and one of them is a vast communal store of psychic energy, what Freud and Jung called libido, the endless whirling of mental force through the patterns of myth and story and image that are the underpinnings of our thoughts, learned from when we first started thinking as infants, even in the womb. This energy whirls inside us and out of us - impels us to motion and brings us to rest - emerges as the cyclic and storied patterns of human history and art, dances us to its pattern as we smile in the happy illusion that we are masters of our destiny. WE ARE NOT.

For as long as we are slaves to the story, for as long as we fail to realise that we are, literally are this strange, luminous awareness that will continue - even though the stories will come to an end forever - then we will continue to perpetrate every form of suffering and stupidity on each other and the world in blissful ignorance of the inevitable result. We will continue to be characters in Shakespeare's Tale Told By An Idiot, this nightmare of gibbering and howling in a wrecked and infinite space.

You want to know how it turns out?

DEATH, DEATH, the story ends in death, all stories end with an ending: IF WE MAKE OUR LIVES A STORY THEN WE ARE WALKING HAND IN HAND WITH DEATH. We aren't a story. The universe is not a great novel being read aloud by some kindly and wise being. NO STORY. We will never, finally, know how it all turns out. We are here; we do not know what is going on. We do not know the truth. There is no story. There is no-one in charge. You do not have to hurt your brother. You do not have to hurt your sister. You do not have to do what you are told.

No one can threaten you because that which you truly are does not die. What a different world we might understand this to be if our news sources reminded us of that every fucking day.

I began this morning, as usual, with a jog around the neighborhood. I have found through my brief amount of years that a daily workout routine helps tremendously not only with weight and overall health, but with depression problems as well. Those red-faced teen angst years were the worst, of course, where depressions would last a week long sometimes, as I lay on the floor of my room catatonic, overwhelmed with the issue of existing. I realize some of this sadness was exacerbated by loopy teen chemicals futily attempting to adjust, but I was not feeling terribly fulfilled in my teary-eyed vexations. And I could not seem, as my mother would constantly suggest, to be able to “just snap out of it.” I also did not wish to immediately search for the right over-the-counter medication either, which while for some people these are truly needed, I thought them completely over-prescribed. I wanted to ‘snap out of it’ but I needed to figure out how.

By my freshman year of college, the need became urgent. I was now attempting to have a relationship with someone for the first time, and this brought on a whole new set of sorrows. I also needed to find a way to distract my mind from the horrific fear of dying of some disease- a fear I have found to manifest primarily when a big change enters into my life. (i.e. college)

So I began to work out. The college I entered had a newly built sports and excerise building, which is actually one of the largest in the nation. It was free. What a sign. I started slowly, annoyed with the whole deal but determined. I kept the routine up, one hour a day six days a week, and improvements eventually began to make themselves known. I also began to love the runner’s high I received from a good workout, and actually started to look forward to my daily excerise. I lost 15 pounds and I noticed that I had more energy in general throughout the day.

In combination with this I also began taking B12 with my vitamin C every day, and even more improvement in my mood came along. To this day I still continue my workout routine and take B12, and I feel both have aided me tremendously. I would suggest both of these for others as well. Of course, it may not work for everyone, but it couldn’t hurt to try. And of course I still deal with depression on occasion, but that, as we all know, is inevitable as a part of life. Can’t have the highs without the lows. The beauties without the blows.

< rant >

So, I log on to E2 today and notice this message from the Klaproth:

Klaproth says I ate your
writeup the sum total of human
. You know, maybe this
site is not the best place for your
efforts. Surely this is true for this
sort of bullshit. Node Heaven will
become its new residence.

Now, granted I was not noding for the ages, but that's just plain rude.

< end rant >
Time was moving like fucking molasses in the (finally) wintry weather of the city. It froze my fingers through the leather gloves i wear when riding the motorcycle and you could see your breath when you exhaled. It's a calming environment for me but i was anything but calm. A very defined chain of events had to take place in a certain order before i was getting out of town...three finals in two days, motorcycle ride home, catch the MARTA train to the airport, deal with the long lines, increased security and general nervous air of the airport while waiting for the flight to take off. Fluid Dynamics went better than expected, which gave me a few extra hours to chat with Laura and get some lunch. System Dynamics went a little worse than expected, but i did what i could do. It's out of my hands now.

Finals were over and done with, the ride home was thankfully uneventful and i was soon on the train for the 20 minute ride to the airport. Got my bag checked, through security and walked what seemed like miles to the end of the C Concourse. i was strangely calm when i got there, so i sat down and read the last of Stay Here With Me and listened to 2 CDs and waited as patiently as i could for my flight to start boarding. i knew the worst part was over and that i would soon be in New Orleans. i was still nervous and jittery.

Now unknown to me, i had put my Swiss Army Knife in my bag the previous week and had completely forgotten about it. There i was, sitting at the terminal, watching some people for another flight getting their carry-on baggage searched and i just discovered i had a large knife on me. They were going to nail me to the wall if my bag got searched, even though it was an honest mistake. It's amazing that i got past the X-ray machines and metal detectors with it, but i didn't want my forgetfulness to cause me to be late at all. There was the chance they wouldn't randomly select me to get my shit searched, so i just sat tight and waited for the boarding call to start.

My poker face apparently worked and i breathed a huge sigh of relief as i walked down the tunnel into the belly of the plane. i don't look forward to a career as a smuggler, but i've had good success in the past with it, getting a switchblade back to the States from Germany as well as now making it through security with a knife and 4 joints in my pack of cigarettes. The half-empty plane got off the ground smoothly and i watched the top layer of low clouds, smooth like whipped cream, disappear out of sight from the oval window. i was on my way, finally.

The flight was half filled, so i spread out on the block of 3 seats i had to myself and started idly chatting with the guy in front of me. We ended up talking for the entire flight, which made the short flight go that much faster. A huge smile broke across my face when the plane started it's decent and the orangy glow of the low-pressure sodium vapor lights got larger and larger. My seat belt was undone before the plane came to a full and complete stop. Once out in the deserted terminal, i was a man possessed, walking on legs of lightning, the heels of my combat boots thumping softly on the glossy floor. i wove around slow moving people and morons on their cell phones who can't walk and talk at the same time. Baggage claim, the agreed rezendevous point was just ahead.

Laura suddenly came into my field of vision, a mere 10 feet ahead. It didn't seem like i was walking so much as floating towards her. Finally in her arms, the warm embrace i had been aching to feel, i was finally ok. Things were perfect in my world again, starting at that exact moment.

Ken graciously drove Laura to the airport. He was sprawled across three seats, working on his crossword puzzle, oblivious to the shit-eating grins on our faces. i tried to help him out on the few blanks he hadn't filled, but my concentration was shot after 3 finals and the grueling days of waiting. My lime green duffle bag finally came across the large conveyor belt. i retrieved it and we all walked to Ken's Volvo, giddy and smiling.

The drive back to Laura's was fun - a stop at a drive-through daquri bar (backwards, so i got to order from the back seat), sticking my head and shoulders out the window at 60 mph and losing my bandana in the process. Bryan was waiting, drunk, when we arrived. We all hung out, drinking and smoking, talking, smiling. i finally felt at home, comfortable, secure. It's good to be here.

It's not so much a vacation as a transplant - even though none of the stuff here is mine, it feels like home and it's all her fault. The effect permeates my whole being and doesn't wear off, make me sloppy or fall flat on my face. Love is the perfect drug and i'm hopelessly addicted to her.

I am sure that many of you already know about the widespread warez busts going on around the world in the last few days. The intention of this node is to show some of you the scope of what is going on

Please note this is a work in progress

latest updates: brianna lived in Adelaide in Australia erupt and doc-x busted, lived in miami, there was a miami warrant executed and they are both dod members in miami TUBS is down HSG is down RTiSO is down RT is down EVN (TFL affil) is down iNSiGHT (rls group) temp down EchoBase is down FBi is down EI is down BBX is down (.no) AKS is down(br) TCP is down R4E is down DS3 is down LS is down mrzed not busted, zed was. sorry sui and brianna were living together *UNCONFIRMED* ME is down (DODiSO HQ, SHOCK, MYTH, TMG) TWi is down LW is down

wanted: group affils for each person listed below as well as site affils

scene news: heckler, zielin, wizy (risciso, til), sui (tfl/wlw), hackrat (wlw/razor/dod, california), shark (wlw/razor/dod; RatzHole siteop), thraxis (not busted; but raided -- 700 cds and computer; risc, pgc, dod, melbourne, Australia), maverick (from skidrow, not from omega), sony, bandido (razor, dod, risc council), eriflleh (dod council, philadelphia), bigrar (dod, risc, boston), avec (rts, rise, former DOD council, razor), buj (dod, Durham North Carolina), forcekill (dod, turku finland), radsl (dod, oregon), chevelle (dallas), billyjoe (austin), ievil (razor, an ircop), brianna (founder of WLW, lived with avec), superiso (inferno; got raided), zed (ran MG 0day, WLW/MYTH) busted SFM was fed site CoreDump (CDiSO CDMP3) was fed site (site in nevada). but dr ice (site op) not busted ?? SFM and CD sites dropped out of the scene 2 days before busts for "group arguments" RHiSO is down (hackrat operated) rumor: hackrat busted 4 times HO is down (DOD AHQ, chevelle's site) TEN is down AF1 is down (DOD affil) PBL is down BAN is down (down for security) MT is down (DOD HQ, security) PWH is down (DOD HQ, security) BNS is down DWS is down HW is down BR is down (security) TWH is down FE is down LOF is down PS is down (down a few days prior to busts and should've been sitting in the room ready to put HW into FE) those 3 were sitting in the economics dept. of MIT, which would be the bigrar portion of the bust Razor announced blackout, pciso division perm closed DOD dead 100% sui got busted and he's from TFL. also founder of WLW. WLW now dead 60 sites closed (.edu's mostly. closed in fear) TRC retired SKR, curry group, is shutdown (ran by maverick) TheWretched and TheFrail (divx groups) also shutdown Story: 5 fbi agents came to avec's house at 9:30AM CMT with federal search warrant. took 271 cd's. watched her computer for 2 hours. FBI watched avec's computer for a few hours monitoring #worldsites, #eusites, and #usasites for 3 hours. all the channel sites. her shell was open country busts: 2 people in finland got busted 6 people in britain (.uk) 7 people in australia 2 in norway holland hit pretty hard .se is safe at the moment australia was hit (bandido) 27 cities in 21 states (including MIT, UCLA, Purdue, Duke, and University of Oregon) Atlanta Austin, Texas Baton Rouge Boston Charlotte, N.C. Chicago Cincinnati Dallas Durham, NC Cocoa Beach, Fla. Houston Indianapolis Miami New Haven, Conn. New York Newark, N.J. Norfolk, Va. Oklahoma City Orlando, Fla. Oxnard, Calif. Philadelphia Phoenix Pittsburgh Portland, Ore. San Francisco St. Louis Washington Wilmington, Del.



The year 2001 is coming to a close. In eight days, after two final projects and two final exams, I will be home. Frankly, I couldn't be happier to rid my memory of this year.

payne and suffering: a look back

December 2001 marks the one-year anniversary of a most bizarre, most rapid, and most unanticipated event: the time I almost sorta kinda had a chance of getting a girlfriend. She was Jessica Payne, a highly talented student at the University of Pittsburgh, and I was "CMU Drone 1" assisting at a Pitt high school quiz bowl tournament. I caught her eye, she caught mine, some hijinks ensued, and then she chose as her boyfriend a friend of mine who had also been helping with that quiz bowl tournament. That part was not too hard to get over, although the after-effects were a bit more than I was prepared to handle.

Almost a full year ago, I posted an update to my web site detailing the whole ordeal, prompting her to post a rebuttal (since removed). Despite the animosity that this generated, our war of words ended peaceably enough when we both realized that nobody else cared. We remained in friendly contact for a few months thereafter, until a May 12 message briefly explained her true feelings towards me.

"just so you know, I'm not talking to you any longer"

- Jessica Payne, May 12, 2001, 11:01:45 PM

So after a solid five months of communication (with various fluctuations of opinion and emotion) that ended it. Sure enough, she did talk to me a couple of other times via ICQ in August, although we never addressed the reasons why she had been refusing to talk to me. She sent me a message on September 11 at 12:20 PM saying simply, "I'm scared," but attempts to start a conversation from that proved futile. That's the last that I've heard from her via ICQ. Actions speak louder than words.

The Carnegie Mellon KGB, a social but not socialist student organization, has a twice-annual event known as Capture the Flag With Stuff wherein two teams run amok through the halls of Wean Hall and Doherty Hall on campus. I pulled out all other plans on November 9 to attend the event, realizing only at the last minute that she might be there. She was.

I first noticed her sitting in the row in front of us. Her hair was Noticeably shorter, although she looked more or less the same as I last remembered her. I quietly whispered information about who she was to my friends, to avoid them creating any sort of conflict. The players choose sides. She and I are on opposing teams. Red flag, no pun intended. I go on an assault mission into Wean Hall, am caught, and am brought to jail.

"See her? We used to go out last year. We haven't spoken in six months. She hates me. Welcome to my personal hell."

- me, to fellow prisoners, upon entering jail, November 9, 2001

Stays in jail last up to fifteen minutes, since jails clear on the top, :15, :30, and :45 of every hour. My stay was to last about ten minutes. Upon entering jail, I see her for the first time in six months Face-to-face. Her first words? "Hello"? "Long time no see"?



This will be a long ten minutes. To pass the time, we form a prisoner chain in a vain plot to get ourselves out of jail. This results in much taunting from my jubilant captor, as we trade barbs back and forth. "You called me fat!" she shouts in an accusatory tone. Snap judgement.

"Fuck yeah," I snap back, knowing full well that this relationship can't be saved. When she's not quite out of hearing range, I add, "you fat fuck."

I am not often a profane man. I am not often someone who will be so upfront and brutally honest with a member of the fairer sex. That night, I was not thinking. She prods me with kicks from her pink plastic shoes as I slither my way down to extend the prisoner chain. The gentleman beside me tells me to fully extend my arms and legs. I do. I am vulnerable.

The kick comes. It is dead on. It hits a very unfortunate area with an unfortunate degree of accuracy. "Back... the... fuck... up..." I stammer, not having realized the full pain.

The jail breaks, and I stagger back to base to do some defense. It's useless, with my weakened condition, and I resort to telling folks in disbelief about what just happened. Verbal abuse is one thing; any sort of physical response is uncalled for. I am gone after game one.

A friend of mine nearly died during Capture the Flag with Stuff this semester, as he plummeted about fourteen feet onto a concrete stairwell. Had he been about two feet off in any direction from his target, he could very well have died. He walked away with minor cuts and bruises.

This November was an unfitting end to an unfit relationship, and I only wish that I don't have to go through anything like that ever again.

class-by-class: the semester revisited

A year ago, I headlined my update with "worst semester ever!" in response to the aforementioned personal events. Academically, despite my lackluster performance in my core computer science class, I did fairly well in the Fall 2000 semester. This fall, there's no silver lining to such a designation.

15-415: Database Applications

I would not recommend this course. It is not particularly difficult; for me, the hardest part has been staying awake for all of the lectures. I am very fortunate to have a partner who knew his stuff for the final project, as introduced to me by my former partner after she dropped the course halfway through. The lackadaisical attitude towards grading and standards in the class end up being very frustrating, and I don't feel that I've taken away anything beyond an overpriced SQL book from this course. Final grade prediction: B.

15-451: Algorithm Design and Implementation

A course that I took solely because I had to, this course has put me on the losing side of time more times than I would care to recall. Poor time management on my part, combined with difficult and largely unininteresting subject material, has cost me many points overall. I'm lucky to be getting out of it alive, I think. Final grade prediction: C.

57-117: Choral Ensemble for Non-Majors

A mistake. While the conductor is undeniably the best I've ever had, I was outclassed from day one in this entry-level choral ensemble. My evaluation at my audition contained such terms as "rusty," "fair" and "poor" for most performance metrics, and "take a chance." That chance has not caused me to blossom as much as I would have hoped, and I am not taking the course again next semester. I appreciate the chance, but I realize that singing is most definitely not my thing. At the holiday concert last Friday, I very nearly blacked out from fatigue during the last number. It was the closest I came to collapsing in my life so far, and it would have been before a live audience numbering in the hundreds. Final grade prediction: B.

82-371: Advanced Japanese I

Speaking of being outclassed, I am the only one in my section who has not visited or lived in Japan at all prior to taking the course. Homework has been a consistent problem, although the final project will make up for my agonizingly poor grade on the third exam. On that exam, among other quizzes, I didn't even receive the paper back. Had I received it, I would have crumpled it up and tossed it into the garbage sight unseen. Final grade prediction: B, although I don't deserve it.

82-373: Structure of the Japanese Language

Not a bad class to be my one shining star this semester. This is a low-pressure discussion course which covers an array of linguistic and cultural topics not discussed in any other class. The only major problem was that the homework assignments were often so vague or unfeasible that they were practically impossible for the entire class. These assignments were universally ignored. Aside from those, my final project should be perfectly feasible if not boring. Final grade prediction: A.


A 3.00 for the entire semester would at least let me keep some of my dignity intact, but I'm not holding out hope. Next semester doesn't look too much more inspiring, continuing with my law of threes being bad in academia.

what's up next

Next semester, I have only four courses on my menu. Hopefully I won't need to drop anything.

15-412: Operating System Design & Implementation

Yes, I am. No, I'm not kidding. This course will easily occupy 30 to 40 hours per week at its peak, requiring much caffeine and the termination of my jobs as a course assistant and an information desk attendant. I only hope that I can find a suitable, knowledgeable partner early enough.

80-311: Computability and Incompleteness

Another math course, this one should wrap up another of my fundamental requirements. It's also my likely First-To-Go class, which if dropped would bring me down to the minimum of 36 units for next semester.

82-372: Advanced Japanese II

The punishment continues. Maybe next semester I'll actually do what I'm supposed to when I'm supposed to.

82-374: Technical Japanese

A seemingly integral course to bind my computer science major and Japanese minor, this course finishes the minor in Japanese and should be a good resource for my planned trip to Japan in the summer. (Preparations for that should start Real Soon Now.) I don't quite know what to expect, but at least I'm on good terms with the professor.

in closing

I know now what trouble can be
And why it follows me so easily
It's half the distance through the open door
Before you shut me down
Let me introduce you to the end

- Vertical Horizon, "Shackled"

See you next year.
What a horrible day.

I'm not sure if writing my thoughts down will help solve my problems, but it does seem to release some of the tension I'm feeling.

Bless me jessicapierce, for I have sinned.
It has been a good seven months since my last writeup.

I recieved a call today from the nice folks at Volkswagen credit. It seems an ex-boyfriend of mine decided to stop making payments on the car I co-signed on so he could buy it. Suddenly, I've been saddled with $2000 of debt that isn't even mine.

Oh wait, now it is.

I honestly do not know if I will ever forgive him for this. For the first time in my life, I have the urge to beat and pummel another human being to within an inch of his life.

Yet I feel strangely calm. I'm not hysterical or irrational in any way, but I'm feeling an overwhelming sense of burden that I don't know how to get rid of. Why is this my cross to bear? I could have sworn I was on the good side of Karma...

My brother is in the Air National Guard. Today, he recieved word today that he is being shipped off to Scott AFB in Missouri. There's a good chance he'll be going to the desert from there. I'm going to miss him.

Please let this weekend go better than today did.

My verdict came back this morning, after 7 days of jury deliberation.

The jury came back with an acquittal on count 3, conspiracy to riot, and they hung on everything else.

They had one juror who refused to deliberate. They barely got him to agree on the conspiracy charge, and he wouldn't agree to anything else. The irony here is that conspiracy was the only serious charge of the lot of them, and it should make the case next to impossible for the prosecution on retrial. All their evidence was from the conspiracy, and their evidence of me says simply that I was there. With the conspiracy charge cleared, they can't bring that evidence in, and thus their case should evaporate. I say should because this should have evaporated back in summer, it should have been dismissed at my arraignment hearings, it should have been dismissed in pretrial, and it should have been dismissed at the halfway point.

My father, who is also an attorney, is certain that they won't bother retrying something this petty. California is in the midst of a budget crisis, right? I think I'm beginning to see why. My attorney is certain that they will actually retry me, probably with my codefendant, who was acquitted of everything except failure to disperse, on which the jury also hung.

My next trial is scheduled for January 9. I am going to have to miss more work, fly down to LA again, and wait while the prosecution tries to convince another 12 strangers that my presence at the scene constitutes guilt, without any other evidence.

To see how this started, please see my daylog for May 3, 2001.
For difficulties in dealing with court dates, please see my daylog for May 7, 2001.
The charges against me are listed on May 10, 2001.
For an account of my first arraignment hearing, please see my daylog for May 24, 2001.
For an account of my bad dealings with my codefendants, please see my daylog for May 30, 2001.
For an account of my second arraignment hearing, please see my daylog for June 22, 2001.
For an account of my decision to go to trial, please see my daylog for October 31, 2001.
For an account of pretrial matters and my journey to LA, please see my daylog for November 17, 2001.
For an account of jury selection, please see my daylog for November 19, 2001.
For an account of my codefendant's plea bargaining, please see my daylog for November 24, 2001.
For an account of my testimony, please see my day log for December 5, 2001.

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