==Phrack Inc.==
Volume X, Issue X, Phile X of X
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The following was written shortly after the death of the best rigger I knew...
\/\The Conscience of a Transhumanist/\/
by
OWENF!
Written on May 13, 2024
with assistance from:
+++The Mentor+++
and
<({FRED})> <({CHRIST})>
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Another one killed themselves today, it's all over the facebook. "Quiet
gentle person dead", "Another friend gone forever"...
Damn Queer. They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain,
ever take a look behind the eyes of the 41%? Did you ever wonder what
made them tick, what forces shaped them, what may have molded them?
I am a transhumanist, enter my world...
Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of
the other kids, this crap they teach us is anathwma to my being...
Damn nonconformist. They're all alike.
I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain
for the fifteenth time how bio gender is real. I "understand" it. "No, Ms.
Smith, it's not science just because it's in the state's textbook."
Damn daydreamer. Probably a drug addict. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is
cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I
screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me...
Or feels threatened by me...
Or thinks I'm a smart ass...
Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...
Damn faggot. All he does is play games. They're all alike.
And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through
the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is
sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is
found.
"This is it... this is where I belong..."
I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to
them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at
school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip
through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or
ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us will-
ing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... 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 wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and
you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek
after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color,
without nationality, without gender or bodies... 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 it's for our own good, yet we're 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. My crime is that of truth: Seeking it and living it, and in hand with
droids.
I am transhuman, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual,
but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.
OWENF!
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