#phreaker
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Hell yeah! Had an awesome find at a thrift shop today - A 1929 Southwestern Bell Telephone technical manual and installation guide for phones of the era.
Maybe you're asking why I think this is awesome? Haha. That makes sense - Well, first of all, I -live- vintage stuff. Antiques, old books, weird ephemera of the past. This definitely fits in with all of that, and has a gorgeous, punched leather cover with the gold stamping. Such a slick piece of history.
Second, I'm an old computer nerd cat. Back in the early '90s, I was a phone phreak - a phone hacker back before mobile phones and even alphanumeric pagers were a thing. It was in these days that "Ma Bell" (Southwestern Bell) was a big Queen on the scene, in her prime.
What were common phreaker practices back in the day? Well, it was all about exploration and curiosity. We would wardial (using our home landline connections and modems to dial a huge list of numbers in a row to try and find systems on the other end rather than regular phones - I'd leave it on all day and come back with a shorter list of various systems to dial in and play around on), we would build blue (and other color) boxes from RadioShack parts to use payphones to make free calls and do all sorts of rad tricks, we would prank folks that deserved it or use said tricks to disrupt schools and business, we would navigate voicemail systems and change automatic messages, and we would generate credit card numbers (which was incredibly easy back in the day) to make free calls to our first girlfriends in Canada. Well, that last one was mostly a me thing, haha.
Basically, payphones and early phone systems were a wonderful, incredible playground for me and I have SO many fond memories of these times. To have a book like this in my hands feels like I just looked inside the Ark of the Covenant and instead of melting my face off, it just glowed real bright and whistled a 2600hz tone sweetly into my ears.
This has so many cool photos like the ones above, and lots of radical technical diagrams, too.
As a bonus, there are hand-typed notes from a division head telephone engineer that wrote about systems they were building in Galveston, TX in the '60s:
Anyways, this is such a cool relic and I'll probably not be able to bring myself to sell it.
Did you know I wrote a verse about being a phreaker for a song with Nerdcore legend YTCracker wayyyyyy back in 2010? Well, now you do. You can hear that here (I'm the second dude, of course):
#phone phreak#phreak#phreaker#hacker#hackers#southwestern bell#ma bell#phone hacking#hacking#old books#vibtage books#antique books#treasure#thrift store finds#antiques#leatherwork#nerecore#madhatter#ytcracker
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Voices of unknown origin appearing on radio frequencies were first noticed in Scandinavia by the military in the 30s and were put down at the time to secret Nazi transmitters...
#the only reason this is not in my spotify most repeated is because I'm basic and want to listen to musical theater numbers#but since I first listened to it my brain is on FIRE#I love numbers stations and that one russian frequency that might be a failsafe in case of mutually assured destruction#(appropriately titled ''the buzzer'')#phone phreakers!#or the ARPANET hacker!#absolutely no interest in crypto but if you present me with a Scheme that involves some outdated technology#I am seduced. unfortunately.#music
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These are my daily affirmations
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Underground: The Julian Assange Story (2012)
An old analog telephone exchange.
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In the analog telephone exchange era, phone hacking techniques were often referred to as "phreaking."
Phreaking involved exploiting vulnerabilities in the telephone network to make free long-distance calls, manipulate phone systems, or access restricted information.
Phreakers used various methods, such as tone dialing, blue boxes, and red boxes, to bypass billing systems and gain unauthorized access to phone networks.
#cyberpunk aesthetic#electronics#vintage electronics#cyberpunk#cyberpunk movies#computer#hacking#hackers#cybersecurity#gifs#gifset#telephone#80s#eighties#vintage#nostalgia#nostalgic#aesthetic#analog#analogue
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A commission for @pluralsword for the lovely fic Addendum over on AO3, following Arcee on her gender journey! Some snippets are under the cut, including the bit this illustrated scene is from.
The torn metal thread shreds of the Crystal City Messenger newspaper fell from my hands. My body shivered and I felt bellows build up in my voice box unreleased.
“We have truly entered a world of madness- we are dead, dead peoples,” I muttered at my doorstep in the empty residential hallway.
The front-page article and first two sentences ran over and over in my mind. THEOCONOMIST FORM-ESSENTIALISM MADE LAW AFTER TAMPERED PUBLIC POLLS. Nova Prime endorses the theoconomists favoring form over aesthetic and orders the demolition of all aesthetic archives, programs, and organizations in the name of ‘freedom,’ and ‘moving on.’ We write with urgency – because of our reporting over the millennia against the reactionary rise, maintaining of records, and projecting of voices of the decreasing population that still connects to gender or anything like it, we are among the news groups hereby outlawed-
-
In my wordless scream of frustration and his of terror, I severed his head from his neck and immediately charged towards the door, deflecting the shots and cutting down the handful of bots in front of me, while taking scatter blasts to my back in yells of pain-
Blasts that fell silent as the hauler’s metal screeched and tore from rocket explosions at the front, spinning us wildly. I stood alone, legs bent and jumping about, while the rest tumbled.
I was about to run- Don’t run- and instead began to bear down on each with my blades in rapid succession while I bled. Four stabs through sparks by the time the remaining eleven stood back up in the back corner gravity had left them in, near me, and I sliced through the group’s torsos in four blows with a triumphant yell, as all fell to my blades beyond their experience or technology.
-
I sputtered, exhaust fumes coming out of my transforming seams in nervousness in my chair in her brightly lit office.
“You can say it, you know it as I do, and we’re here for you, just like people were for me,” she got up from her chair and stood in front of me, her sturdy shoulder stacked frame’s firm graspers towards me. “Can I hold your hands? Would that help?”
“Yeah...” I reached out and held her own, feeling her fingers gently find an easy grip around me. “It’s nice to actually be able to trust a doctor and a friend with understanding me and my body, that of a linked trans gal.”
-
"Sibling, you shouldn't be here," Galvatron crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. "This is far too dangerous, not in a combative sense, but that of you against the world," He frowned. "Including danger from your supposed patron and protector."
"You mean, the only person who has done right by our kind with any sort of power to protect us?" I stared back. "You showed up now to tell me that? No hug, no gladness to see me?"
-
“Hang on m’am I’m messaging a medic named Safety he’ll be right over with his team-” Phreaker replied.
I was flabbergasted. “Phreaker!”
“What? Just finished talking to him, sorry about that lady,” Phreaker transformed back and extended an arm. “I’m way smaller than you, but you can barely stand, and you need a friend. Lean on me.”
“Why did you use she pronouns and gender terms that some have associated with women? I haven’t told you my pronouns or my gender or terminology therein,” I stared at his cube of a face.
-
I spotted recent Cybernought tracks in the direction of my heading. No no no this is bad!! =”ANODE! LUG! Can you read me??”=
I slowed and reached the residue point- there was a crater with a shattered shield staff in the middle, and pink blood everywhere.
I transformed, crouched, and spotted split off pieces of Lug’s chest and torso armor.
-
“Hey Arcee, what’s up? Surprised to get a call from you after our last conversation,” Windblade’s holodisplay visage smiled at me, wings outstretched.
“I’ve been playing around with Earth mode reformats to choose.” I sent her communications table the file scans of considered alt modes and altered files I had tinkered with. “And actually found some euphoria from the shapes I’m considering, but I realized, I realized I didn’t want to be alone right now for this, I wanted someone who would understand to be present.”
-
“So, after all these millions of years, after all your labor for a radical revolution and then for survival in the wider galaxy, why in the stars would-” I fumbled over my words, the weight of my title and path of peace pressed on me, as I looked on at Arcee and Windblade, the old and new wiser than me, and both our future. “Why would you, an ancient trans woman anarchist, join up with the Autobots and work as my right hand, and even a commander in my stead?”
-
“Hey, hey, Arcee, Aileron told us what was happening,” Lug rubbed my back stacks, as did Anode from my sitting position where Aileron held me. “I know it’s a lot sometimes when we visit, and especially the occasion today.”
I let their rubbing and embrace anchor for me a moment, and then whimpered out: “come around so I can hug you- let me try to stand-”
Aileron helped me up, and the four of us hugged close. Lug’s head nuzzled on my waist, Anode leaned her head on my shoulder, and Aileron touched the three of us with her arms and torso. We had a quiet, lovely moment.
-
“Reading Anode and Lug’s journals again I see,” Prowl sat across from my cell bar’s door. “I have to ask, what do you of all people see in them besides curiosity? A change of spark, historical inclination?”
“It’s how they lived with the resources they had, and how strong they were with so little material,” I turned my head, and put the journal down. “They had in abundance things I didn’t value that only they could make- their euphoria, their companionship, their epistemes, their memories, their family. Resources I lost understanding for their true meaning long ago and am trying to retrace, (rest of quote removed due to spoilers)
-
Aileron's drippy face looked up at me as Gauge and Sideswipe held her hand, and Ailering, Greenlight, Anodes, Lugs, and Lancer hugged her. "I know we'll be family again too, Windblade..."
"I know we will," I smiled and joined the embrace, letting her chest rest on my head. "I have no doubt."
"Aunty, do you think-," Gauge wrapped an arm around me. "Do you think if our world had been happier- if we had not had 12 million years of empire- that her life would have been able to blossom more than it did? To never have been so alone?"
#commission#Arcee#arceeleron#anode#lug#lugnode#aileron#transformers#tf idw#macaddam#friend stuff#getting idw designs accurate is like. why yes i will be spending sO MUCH TIME on the lining here
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1965. The notorious Captain Crunch whistle. Found to to be able to be used to steal free long telephone calls from the telephone company.
The Bo'sun Whistle was a prize included in Cap'n Crunch cereal boxes in the late-1960s. The cereal company didn't realize the whistles emitted a 2600hz tone--a sound that could trick telephone routing equipment into giving people free long-distance telephone calls. "Phone phreakers"--a group of pranksters that repurposed technology to infiltrate and test telephone system limits--prized these whistles.
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Contexte futur forum.
CHICAGO ; Janvier 2023 — Dans cette ville bordée par le lac Michigan, s’engouffrent dans le métro des hommes et des femmes d’affaires prêt.e.s à affronter leur boss qui n’aura de cesse de leur en demander toujours plus. Plus de chiffres, plus de rendements. Il y a les étudiant.e.s, rentrant de soirées prêt.e.s à aller se coucher, qui croisent ceux qui ont déjà leurs diplômes. Il y a cette mère de famille qui dépose ses enfants à l’école, cet homme qui se prépare à distribuer des cafés et des pancakes dans son camion pour ceux qui auraient un petit creux. Il y a les touristes qui ont le nez en l’air et qui admirent la ville. Puis il y a the phreaker, celui qui connaît tout de tout le monde, qui s’insinue dans les boîtes mails, dans les téléphones pour répandre des rumeurs crasses sur tout le monde. On l’aime ou on le déteste, il a commencé par faire le bien, en dénonçant un bar clandestin aux forces de l’ordre. Mais c’est aussi lui qui est l’auteur de messages dénonciateurs. Il a brisé des couples, il a brisé des amitiés. Personne ne sait qui il est, personne ne sait ce qu’il veut. Tout ce que tout le monde sait c'est qu'il agit depuis plus d'un an maintenant, et qu'il attise la curiosité de bon nombre de personnes. Alors, serez-vous capable de le démasquer ?
Forum city se déroulant à Chicago à notre époque.
Pas de minimum de lignes
Groupes basés sur l'âge de personnage.
Pas de personnage sombres.
PNJ qui interviendra dans vos boîte à MP régulièrement. Mais possibilité de demander à ne pas être inclus.e dans les rumeurs.
Je prend vos avis avec plaisir '-' <3
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CONTEXTE |
CHICAGO — Dans cette ville bordée par le lac Michigan, s’engouffrent dans le métro des hommes et des femmes d’affaires prêt.e.s à affronter leur boss qui n’aura de cesse de leur en demander toujours plus. Plus de chiffres, plus de rendements. Il y a les étudiant.e.s, rentrant de soirées prêt.e.s à aller se coucher, qui croisent ceux qui ont déjà leurs diplômes et qui sont déjà dans la vie active. Il y a cette mère de famille qui dépose ses enfants à l’école, cet homme qui se prépare à distribuer des cafés et des pancakes dans son camion pour ceux qui auraient un petit creux. Il y a les touristes qui ont le nez en l’air et qui admirent la ville. Puis il y a the phreaker, celui qui connaît tout de tout le monde, qui s’insinue dans les boîtes mails, dans les téléphones pour répandre des rumeurs crasses sur chacun des habitants. On l’aime ou on le déteste, il a commencé par faire le bien, en dénonçant un bar clandestin aux forces de l’ordre. Mais c’est aussi lui qui est l’auteur de messages dénonciateurs. Il a brisé des couples, il a brisé des amitiés. Personne ne sait qui il est, personne ne sait ce qu’il veut. Mais, au fond, le désirent-ils vraiment ?
SUJET PRD
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Drew my mascot, Phreaker M.D. with a bunch of quotes I’ve collected from friends and family. Couldn’t decide which quote was the best for the image. Please tell me which one you think works best.
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if i had been alive the 80s i absolutely one hundred percent wouldve been one of those phone phreakers. i wouldntve even talked to anyone on the phone id do it just for the thrill of it
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Broadcast Signal Intrusion (2021)
Jacob Gentry
U.S (2021) - 104 minutes, Horreur, S.F, Thriller Psychologique
Entre thriller de science-fiction, film noir et horreur psychologique, Broadcast Signal Intrusion se déroule dans les années 1990 à Chicago et tourne autour d’un archiviste vidéo qui découvre une série d’émissions pirates inquiétantes cachées dans des cassettes datant de 1987.
Une pièce de divertissement de genre immensément bien mis en place, Broadcast Signal Intrusion impressionnera ceux qui aiment leurs films de genre, stratifiés et opaques.
Vous souvenez vous de ce célèbre creepypasta avec Tara l’Android : “I Feel Fantastic” ? Un robot humanoïde à perruque blonde, chante avec peine, d’un ton métallique est monotone. Les centaines de milliers de commentaires et reproductions ont fait son histoire. Une vidéo sur laquelle les internautes, fans de Creepyblog, et autres redditeurs en quête d’étrange, se sont heurtés en 2009. Une combinaison bien foutue de bizarre, de voyeur et grotesque impliquant de sombres rumeurs. Autour de laquelle un tas de théories et légendes urbaines terrifiantes ont été partagées pendant des années, devenant sans doute l’un de plus fameux canular de ce type.
Broadcast Signal Intrusion est un film post-moderne noir, rempli de détails, avec une formidable mise en scène. Il aurait pu être très facile pour le film de suivre la voie de l’horreur, mais il y a une contrainte naturelle au scénario et à la direction qui résonne tout au long de l’histoire. Quelques similitudes avec le récent film de Prano Bailey-Bond, Censor. Les deux films sont tournés dans le passé et traitent du pouvoir de l’imagerie visuelle et de l’horreur interne de la fragilité humaine.
Un film inspiré des légendes sur ces pirates et autres phreakers, au point de mobiliser les chineurs de matériels vidéo non classés, et autres bizarreries mystérieuses, ainsi que le F.B.I, pour en retrouver l’auteur. Ces œuvres cryptées, archivées dans les tréfonds d’internet, ou comme dans ce film, des médias à diffusion et émission fréquentielle comme la Télévision ou la radio. On pense inévitablement à Videodrome, mais le réalisateur Jacob Gentry au lieu de réaliser un simple film à la manière de, parvient à surprendre avec ce film tout à fait original en fait, innove en mélangeant des éléments de nostalgie pour l’analogique et un monde avant internet, avec une vision moderne. Dans la tendance des nouveaux réalisateurs d’horreur et de fantastique inspirés des classiques des 80’s, comme le fascinant Censor de Prano Bailey-Bond, ou encore le terrifiant The Poughkeepsie Tapes de 2007.
En 1987, un pirate des ondes, portant un masque Max Headroom émet des signaux qui perturbent la programmation télévisuelle à Chicago… Il s’agissait d’un bulletin de nouvelles et d’un épisode de Doctor Who. Techniquement, il s’agissait d’un crime fédéral… C’est peut-être pour ça que personne n’a donné d’explication à cet exploit singulièrement inutile, bien que les théories conspirationnistes abondent naturellement. Tourné vers la fin des années 1990, ce thriller paranoïaque – qui semble s’inspirer du Vidéodrome – reprend les intrusions, utilisant une scène de Dark Shadows pour représenter Doctor Who knockoff Don Cronos et parodiant le robot-sit-com Small Wonder avec le personnage de Sal-E Sparx.
Harry Shum Jr. incarne James, cet archiviste vidéo paumé, dans un Chicago déshumanisé, comme vide, lorsqu’il tombe sur des séquences troublantes des interruptions de diffusion non résolues, des cold cases mystérieux et singuliers qui rappellent les étranges émissions de Vidéodrome. Le jeune protagoniste à l’instar de Max Renn devient obsédé par ces visions perturbantes et grotesques, qu’a-t-il vu, est-ce réel, est-ce sérieux ou est-il simplement en train de glisser dans la folie — des humains portant des masques en caoutchouc censés ressembler à « Sal-E Sparx », du sitcom Stepbot. Ce qui devrait être une anomalie de radiation devient la nouvelle obsession de James, peut-être juste pour distraire de la tristesse persistante depuis la disparition de sa femme. Comme James dissèque la séquence, son monde se complique entre les harceleurs-devenus-partenaires (Alice, joué par Kelley Mack) et "Phreakers" (un joué par Chris Sullivan) qui chassent le haut des intrusions de signal titulaire. Tout peut-il être lié à la disparition de sa femme ? Ou est-ce qu’un homme bouleversé et brisé s’agrippe aux pailles numérisées.
Malgré le budget modeste, le film impressionne sur le plan technique, de la conception à la production et son ambiance rétro à la BO discrète mais efficace. On s’enfonce dans un monde ancien, faits de vieux objets obsolètes, en jouant inévitablement sur la nostalgie de l’analogique et des mystères à hauteur du commun des geeks, de vieux téléphones payants et des mystérieuses cassettes VHS. Le rétro ne s’est jamais senti aussi moderne.
#broadcast signal intrusion#jacob gentry#2021#horror#creepypasta#dropthenamedroppin#normanjacobmogkiomp#Censor#foundfootagehorror
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Femslash February 2023: Resolving Hope
Summary:
Unicron and Functionists vanquished and Cybertronian empire dead, Anode, Lug, Arcee, and Aileron are able to get in contact and of course want to meet… but it's not so easy, at least for Arcee, facing death's door and old pains all over again, knowing that Anode and Lug are facing what has exhausted her. When the four meet, they have some things to talk about and celebrate…
This less than 2000 words story is a tie-in to Addendum, and technically happens after most of the chapters are over, but we wanted to release this now as it's own thing because of wanting to write something hopeful and with closure, and because the next third of Addendum that we're going to write will be difficult for us emotionally, and we want to provide a story on it's own that has the reunion we wish canon had had time for. You can read it here or on Ao3! Text of story below if you want to read it on tumblr:
Metroplex, Earth. December 2018 CE
“I’m scared,” I held Aileron’s hand tightly while staring at Metroplex’s round space bridge ring, every ton of my frame trembling thinking about the graveyard turned home to joyful life on the other side of the shimmering bright blue space bridge portal within the ring. “A world transformed for the better, like here… but with corpses from my time or before…” memories of the photos acquired in recent years ran through my mind, of the fields of dozens of dead Titans from my youth or before that had left me feeling empty and cold to see more confirmed deaths of people I knew.
Corpses now gone after Infinitus attempted to raise them to wipe out everyone on Cybertron who did not fit his Functionism, desecrator, at least the forces of the Council of Worlds and dear pal Windblade laid them all to rest by fire before Unicron consumed them with my old ‘home’.. . and new life was ignited by the Vector Sigma of- of a monument of defeated genocide still turbulent to rise again- the green-gray space bridge room and the bridge technician bots around us were out of focus to my sight. Even though we’ve talked over comms when it was all over, knowing that two of the bots I thought corpses are alive and over there…
“Tell me about what you’re feeling, darling,” Aileron stepped in front of me, taking hold of my other hand, her broad rounded chest pressed up on me, big air breathing rocket engine shoulders and back wings still, optics holding my gaze.
“I… I don’t understand how Anode and Lug set up a home on Luna 1… how they could be in orbit of a Cybertron bloated from stolen resources that is still coming to terms with the end of the Functionist regime… the risk to their lives along with those kids they’re raising…” they’re on a moon orbiting Cybertron again, and I’m not there with them to stop them from getting killed because I’d rather be here- “I want to be done with Cybertron for now… I don’t think I’m ready to go over there.” I felt my rage and grief boil in my frame, viscerally remembering the touch and trust of the communities with overlaps of fellow trans folks, gals, and people who cared for us who I had lost to or found traumatized survivors from hegemonic violence of the Cybertronian Civil War, the rise of Functionism, and the Great War after or to organic mechanophobia, and knowing the pains of our splinter universe counterpart survivors who resisted Functionist rule on New Cybertron.
Crasher won’t speak to me because of what she’s done, Vibes and Shatter are missing, Minerva, Rampage, Phreaker, and Trans-Mutate break down frequently when we visit or they’re alone, Lug’s died once already, and Codexa… my back stacks and hands ached to draw my swords, give up teaching and peacebuilding advisory, to step through the space bridge and wage a personal war against any neo-Functionist in the star system beyond. No- I have to let other people do this fight. My optics stayed on Aileron’s through all of this pressure in me, her yellow optics widening and face falling with sadness.
“You’re really upset, I’ve never seen you like this… but you’ve told me…” Aileron smooched the center of my chest lightly before looking back up at me. “All the hurt over what Cybertron’s done to you, would have done to me and did do to my counterpart from the splinter universe- I know it’s hard to face, I can understand wanting to take that rage out, that it feels like it’s displacing the peace you’ve found in yourself.” she embraced me, smiling so softly and sweetly with brightness in her visage as I murmured at her hands touching the bottom of my back stacks. “I know the love and wisdom in you is very strong, and also frustrated. We don’t have to cross- why don’t you comm them through the bridge and ask them to step through-”
Past Aileron’s dome shaped head, I saw a long beige ankle and brown foot and a shorter gray and red counterpart step through the blue swirl of the active space bridge, the rest of the two bot’s frames coming all the way through-
“Aileron, turn around and follow me-” I beamed as droplets streamed down my cheeks, taking in the sight of lanky and winged green and gray Anode and stout and blocky Lug holding hands, the two’s blue optics quickly looking at Aileron facing them and me in turn, wide grins on their faces-
I stepped around Aileron swiftly, running into the amorously remembered pair with tearful laughter flowing from me, and picked up one in each arm in a tight hug, feeling their arms around me, and smooched Anode and Lug’s cheeks in turn before setting them down, my knees bending a little, leaning on them.
I cried and howled wordlessly, wheels in my ankles and back stacks whirring at full speed, remembered sensations between holding fragments of Lug’s broken armor pieces and seeing the two’s blood on Luna 2 five centuries ago contrasted with holding the two, seeing them, presently in the glow of their yellow-green and cyan biolights signaling =We love you so much= with dilating luminosity, the two also tearful after placing smooches on my own cheeks. Aileron put an arm around me, and nuzzled next to Lug-
“Oh Arcee…” Anode smiled again, a teeth bared lopsided grin that I knew was her cheeky expression, “are you going to go hit a race track, or are you just that glad to see us while with Aileron? Speaking of wheels, they and this robustness is a good look for you, glad you finally got the bravery and did it, though this is different from your drawings...” she rested her head on my chest, looking up at me. “Very you though.”
“HAHAHAHAHA!” I stood up and plopped a kiss on her helm while Lug and Aileron chuckled, still pressed up on me. “Oh you, dear, darling Anode…” I patted Lug’s head near my waist before letting my hand fall across the side of her helm to touch her chin. “And sweet, dear Lug… I’ve missed you both so much. I never thought I’d see you again…”
“There were a few times while adventuring with Team Rodimus and co. that we thought we weren’t gonna make it to see you again, but we were glad to hear from Nautica and Whirl that you were doing better last time they saw you,” Lug ran hands up and down my lower back. “Hope we’re not being all too much, I know we broke up but-”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I did this too,” I pulled an arm away from Lug and put it around Aileron’s shoulders, rubbing her right one steadily, spark warm at her warble and chuckle. “Anode, Lug, Aileron, I’m so glad you three could finally meet in person… dearwing Aileron and I bonded over our loss, and distrust of hierarchy while trying to make the best of the agency we had, and we love to sit looking at polities together… I think you’ll all get along really well.”
“Arcee’s told me so much about you two,” Aileron brought her hands around to be between the four of us, with her two palms open towards Anode and Lug. “I have to agree that we’ll get along fabulously.”
Anode and Lug both placed a hand on hers, the three clasping each other together. I think I’m going to melt - the angst in my frame was gone, warmth and excited calm pulsing in every sensor and circuit instead.
“So we going to finally do Conjunx commitment vows, or what? Suppose we have to wait for us all to really get to know each other,” Anode smirked, and we all cackled again.
“In due time, I think, you jokester, you’re right we have to figure out where we all are in relation to each other,” Lug looked up at me. “You two didn’t cross over the bridge sweetspark, we got worried and decided not to wait. Why the hesitation?”
“I had an anxiety attack,” I smiled at my admittance, proud of myself. “I just- the Cybertron we knew was destroyed only a month ago, and I thought that whole tragic chapter was over, and to know it’s there on the other side of that bridge, and having done more harm than we managed to do, and that you two live orbiting it, only a planetary burn away from another post-war mess… It’s just a lot. I have enough to deal with raising a new generation here and advising New Cybertron and Earth both.”
In my happiness, I put an arm around Anode, and let myself hope: “let’s see how things go. I might need time, and you probably do too, with all the grief we’ve been through together and that I’ve caused, but I want- I want us to figure things out, and know that we can at the very least have a close friendship. I just want you two to be safe and keep in touch, like Aileron and I do. Please? I can’t bear to lose you to violence again…”
“I promise.” Anode and Lug spoke together, and we all hugged quietly for a little while longer.
“Why don’t we get some rust sticks and go sit on one of the outer low towers?” Aileron stepped back, holding my hand and Lug’s, a glimmer in her optics. “Arcee and I found a nice spot to sit with a beautiful panorama of the polity on and around Metroplex, and of the ocean… there’s a herd of blue whales passing by soon, last I heard from our Titan home, and if we have time, introducing you to Marissa Faireborn, Thundercracker, and their dog Buster, and some of our other pals like Windblade, Chromia, Greenlight, and Lancer...”
“That’s a great idea!” Anode exclaimed while Lug and I nodded. Then Anode inclined her head to the side: “What’s a whale?”
#transformers#maccadam#idw1#idw2005#transformers idw#exrid#lost light#Arcee#idw arcee#trans arcee#anode#tf anode#lug#lug idw#tf lug#aileron#tf aileron#arcee/aileron#aileron/arcee#anode/lug#lug/anode#arcee/anode/lug#trans transformers#lugnode#ailercee#arceeleron#trans robots#femslash february#addendum#pluralsword stories
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Phreakers Part 3: VMB Drop Box, Various short drops (Plus some sid music)
Back in the late 80s and early 90s people were using stolen voice mail boxes at various companies as drops for various hacking/phreaking info. I remember looking for access to the old X25 network and trading in network access on said X25 network was very much on peoples desires back then. This was before widespread email so people communicated as they could. Since most phone calls cost money outside of a few miles people would take over voice mail boxes at companies with toll free numbers to trade in accounts, long distance calling cards various interesting phone system oddities like bridge lines and other voice mail boxes you would hop to. That is how you stayed in the scene by calling these numbers a lot to keep in this underground voice phone network.
Here is an example of some of these voice mail drops from around early 1990.
The screen visuals are a video recording from a sysop side of a C64 BBS running a VERY modified version of CNet.
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literally the first phone phreakers talk about seeing the pattern they just dont use the word
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Insane that we basically understand how to wirehead at this point but all you hear about is ratblr STEM ethics thought experiential and nothing about hacking your brain like a phone phreaker with a dial up line.
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Land ho or out to sea! It’s a command, not a question. Here we have what would surely be a highly anticipated debut cassette, if anyone knew it existed, by the RRR Band -- a spontaneously spawned improvisational trio consisting of shadow-careerists Ryan Davis, Emily Robb, & Richie Charles.
Rock For Birds, the side-long opener, quickly gets down to outlining a dark and puzzling passage, luring the listener further into its woods one robotic cymbal-smack at a time by way of distantly entrancing, bewitching vocals and hypnotic cacophony...though never without offering a friendly lantern toward the trail.
A pedantic listener may identify elements of no-wave, industrial, folk and even rock herein, but the path ahead is a blurry, gently impulsive, and ultimately genreless one. RFB's pulsing rhythm is a constant, a foundation upon which self-tangling resonator phrases and cubist synth interjections crack and whirr with reckless abandon, abruptly decorating a seemingly foreign if not possessed slew of vocal chanting most closely akin to that of a sleep-talker's tongue. All the while, a tireless and throaty guitar holds our feet in the mud. It's not until the rhythm finally gives up that we’re momentarily set free in the soft mire of the song's ending. But alas, the tape flips and we continue...
On side two, we're met with a coupling of guitar and key notes that meander effortlessly atop a hazily familiar drum machine pitter-patter alongside its supporting cast of off-brand and misplaced percussive sounds. Again, we hear cyclical string variations, defining and resonating a rhythm and melody while gently rocking the listener out of orbit, untethered.
Sparse vocals push through and re-enter, bringing to mind an imaginary Vega/Rev/Ono collab lost to the cutting-room floors of time, or perhaps a mysterious unlabeled reel stolen from the communal kitchen table of some early '70s Träd, Gräs, & Düül II style ritualistic jam-fam phreakers. Alternatively, some listeners may wish to think of this cassette as the probable soundtrack to the film adaptation of To Serve Man, that staple of every cookbook shelf.
It's a uniquely odd universe mapped out and traversed by the RRR Band and All Who Sail With It. They've been heckled just as you and I have and they're offering insight, somewhat gracefully, at last.
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