Where is depressed Afterburner when we need him?
Tester
Hipcrime attack on nanae. And I got the port number by Googling so it
must have been open and was probably abused before that date.
It was used late North American Monday for a Hipcrime attack on
24hoursupport.helpdesk and the same open proxy was still there Tuesday
at 17:14 GMT.
At one time, RCN (formerly Erols) had the famous Afterburner on its
abuse desk. Now, it seems to have Dave Null.
Remember - go to RCN for your net-abuse needs. You put up a phishing
page? It will still be up on Valentine Day. You can get Giganews with
only IP authentication through RCN.
--
did exist! It does exist! It exists in memory. I remember it.
You remember it.'
'I do not remember it,' said O'Brien.
Winston's heart sank. That was doublethink. He had a feeling of deadly
helplessness. If he could have been certain that O'Brien was lying, it
would not have seemed to matter. But it was perfectly possible that O'Brien
had really forgotten the photograph. And if so, then already he would have
forgotten his denial of remembering it, and forgotten the act of
forgetting. How could one be sure that it was simple trickery? Perhaps that
lunatic dislocation in the mind could really happen: that was the thought
that defeated him.
O'Brien was looking down at him speculatively. More than ever he had
the air of a teacher taking pains with a wayward but promising child.
'There is a Party slogan dealing with the control of the past,' he
said. 'Repeat it, if you please.'
'"Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present
controls the past,"' repeated Winston obediently.
"'Who controls the present controls the past,"' said O'Brien, nodding
his head with slow approval. 'Is it your opinion, Winston, that the past
has real existence?'
Again the feeling of helplessness descended upon Winston. His eyes
flitted towards the dial. He not only did not know whether 'yes' or 'no'
was the answer that would save him from pain; he did not even know which
answer he believed to be the true one.
O'Brien smiled faintly. 'You are no metaphysician, Winston,' he said.
'Until this moment you had never considered what is meant by existence. I
will put it more precisely. Does the past exist concretely, in space? Is
there somewhere or other a place, a world of solid objects, where the past
is still