home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac of the 20th Century
/
TIME, Almanac of the 20th Century.ISO
/
1990
/
93
/
jan_mar
/
02089947.000
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1994-02-27
|
6KB
|
126 lines
<text>
<title>
(Feb. 08, 1993) Surfing off the Edge
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1993
Feb. 08, 1993 Cyberpunk
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
COVER STORIES, Page 62
Surfing off the Edge
</hdr>
<body>
<p>By RICHARD BEHAR
</p>
<p> Morty Rosenfeld was so stoned on Euphoria, a hot new
synthetic drug, that he danced faster than a speeding cursor on
a computer screen. It was 3 o'clock one morning last July at the
Limelight, one of New York City's wildest night spots, and the
computer-generated "techno" music was deafening. Not the best
place for an interview, perhaps, but Rosenfeld, 21, a promoter
who did marketing work for the club, insisted on this surreal
setting. He feared that the interview could be some kind of
setup arranged by Secret Service or FBI agents, and thus he
wanted to be near "friends and security" in case something went
wrong.
</p>
<p> The young man had reason to be wary. He had been busted
several months earlier by the feds and was awaiting his
sentence, having already pleaded guilty to a crime that was just
as high-tech as his favorite nightclub: stealing credit reports
from TRW Inc.'s computer system. Four months after that
encounter at the Limelight, he moved into a Michigan jail cell,
where he is serving an eight-month term.
</p>
<p> Rosenfeld--known on computer networks by the code name
Storm Shadow--is a hacker who went to extremes, a cyberpunk
who surfed right off the edge. Authorities say he was just one
of many bandits stalking the electronic highways. In recent
years, individual outlaws and entire "gangs" have broken into
computers all over the U.S., using their wits and wiles to
pilfer and destroy data.
</p>
<p> Though barely of drinking age, Rosenfeld is a veteran
hacker. He says he invaded his first computer--a low-level
NASA system--at age 15 as a member of a cyberpunk gang called
Force Hackers. Before long, he was devising electronic schemes
to swipe cash from Western Union, phone service from the Baby
Bells and valuable credit information wherever it could be
found. "We once pulled the credit reports of a whole town in
Oregon," Storm Shadow recalls.
</p>
<p> Rosenfeld was arrested in 1991 after hatching a plot to
build and sell IBM computers. He and some pals bought nearly $1
million worth of computer parts using credit-card numbers from
strangers' credit reports. A Secret Service raid on Rosenfeld's
Brooklyn, New York, home uncovered 176 credit reports stolen
from TRW, a leading credit-rating company. He says he sold
"thousands" of such reports to private investigators.
</p>
<p> While Storm Shadow is doing time, a bigger case involves
five other young hackers, some of whom have had dealings with
Rosenfeld. All five are allegedly members of a gang called
Masters of Disaster. They are charged with breaking into
computers at a host of companies and institutions, including the
University of Washington, Bank of America, ITT and Martin
Marietta. In one of its most damaging raids, the group allegedly
wiped out most of the data on the Learning Link, a computer
owned by a New York City public-TV station that provides
educational information for hundreds of schools. A chilling
electronic message was left behind: "Happy Thanksgiving, you
turkeys, from all of us at MOD." It was signed with five code
names: Phiber Optik, Acid Phreak, Outlaw, Corrupt and Scorpion.
</p>
<p> Could MOD have been stupid enough to leave behind such a
confession? One member says the gang was framed by a rival
hacker who liquidated the Learning Link himself. The defendants'
court-appointed lawyers claim the feds have built an elaborate
Mafia-like case against rebellious yet relatively harmless kids.
"Being arrogant and obnoxious is not a crime," argues attorney
Michael Godwin of the Electronic Frontier Foundation, a group
that defends exploratory hacking. As for Masters of Disaster,
he adds, "it's just a way-cool name. Teenagers aren't going to
call themselves the Electronic Birdwatchers Society." While most
charges remain to be proved, in December two MOD members pleaded
guilty to selling Rosenfeld passwords to TRW computers.
</p>
<p> Rosenfeld, the alleged MODsters and their ilk do not fit
the standard image of a hacker: the wealthy, suburban geek who
trespasses on computers just for fun. These cyberpunks are
ethnically mixed (from blacks and Hispanics to Italians and
Lithuanians), favor close-cropped hip-hop haircuts and live in
urban, blue-collar neighborhoods. They fight rival gangs with
cheap computers, not sticks or knives. Some are big drug users;
most are simply addicted to what Rosenfeld calls the "adrenaline
rush of computer power, which is better than sex, drugs or rock
'n' roll."
</p>
<p> The best known of the hackers accused in the MOD case,
Mark Abene (alias Phiber Optik), insists that he's innocent and
not a gang member. This acid-tongued media darling, featured in
Esquire magazine and on the Geraldo show, offers weekly
computer advice on a New York City radio program. A high school
dropout, Abene, 20, still lives in the city with his parents,
whose home has been raided twice by the Secret Service. In 1991
he pleaded guilty to stealing service off a 900 phone-sex line,
but now denies the charge.
</p>
<p> For all their bravado, many of the hacker hoods come from
broken homes and have deep psychological problems. Rosenfeld's
parents split up when he was 15, and the young man recalls
brutal physical fights with his hard-drinking father. Several
months ago, the hacker literally hacked his wrists with a razor,
in his second attempt to kill himself since 1991. "Most of my
childhood is a blur, partly because of LSD and partly because
I just don't want to remember," says Rosenfeld, who is open,
insightful and very likable when he removes the cybermask. "I
have no clue who I am."
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>