Where is parental 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 10:14 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.
--
Ministry of Truth -- Minitrue, in Newspeak[1] -- was startlingly
different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal
structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace,
300 metres into the air. From where Winston stood it was just possible to
read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans
of the Party:
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms
above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about
London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and
size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from
the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously.
They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire
apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned
itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry
of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The Ministry of Love, which
maintained law and order. And the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible
for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv,
and Miniplenty.
The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no
windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love,
nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter
except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of
barbed-wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even
the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced
guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons.