Fun_People Archive
5 Apr
The BOFB #1

Date: Fri, 5 Apr 96 18:54:07 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl>
To: Fun_People
Subject: The BOFB #1

"He's back, and this time he's got a portable bulk-eraser!!!"

   It's...

     It's...

       IT'S!!!!....

	The Bastard Operator from Britain #1

......

"...I'd like to escalate this call please.."

"I'm sorry?" I can't help but be a little surprised at this guy's tone.

"I'd like to escalate the severity of this call. Surely a person in your  
situation is aware of the new International Standard regarding fault logging  
and tracking..."

He's obviously insane. There's no other reason why he'd call me this early on  
a monday afternoon, as soon as I've got to work...

"What was your username?"

He tells me, and some all-too-familiar key clicking noises follow. I notice  
his account has the pervert flag set, and yet he has no gif files in his  
directory - which can only mean one thing....

"Now, this escalation business, you want me to increase the priority with  
which I'll handle this call?"

"Yes!"

"Tell you what, I'll double it" I say, in gentle, soothing tones

"Good" he mutters

"...Now, twice nothing is nothing, and because it's an ESCALATED priority  
call, it goes into the RED rubbish bin instead of the brown one."

"WHAT!" he screams "DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO?!?!"

"Well, I could look up your username and find out, but we deal with so many  
people here. Your name wouldn't mean anything. Not unless we'd seen you doing  
something *really* depraved on one of our hidden security cameras - you know  
the sort that were destined to be put in the computing labs to stop piracy,  
but actually got put in toilet cubicles after the installation order got  
corrupted somewhere between the purchasing office and the maintenance  
department. A freak electrical storm maybe... Anyway, unless you'd done  
something really disgusting that got caught on film...

...like..

(I look him up in the blackmail book)

.. like dressing up in women's underthings and dancing what looked (to the  
untrained observer) like the lead from "Mary Poppins", I'm afraid that your  
name wouldn't mean anything to us...."

I've heard the sharp intake of breath - he knows I've heard it, for him it's  
all over.

"Of course, if you were one of THOSE people, well, I'd remember you  
immediately, especially when reminiscing to the promotions board, all of whom  
are squarer than a Rubik's Cube. But I'm in a forgetful mood at the moment. I  
hope you don't mind if I forget that you called..."

"Yes, of course" he says, the last vestiges of self-respect vanishing.

"Goodbye now!" I cry cheerfully "But before you go, if you could be so kind as  
to send some money to the Operators Benevolent fund, I'd be so grateful - in  
fact my gratitude might make me careless with the bulk eraser, if you see what  
I mean.. .. .. Mary.."

He makes some wild promise of a large amount, and I keep my side of the deal  
by being careless with the bulk eraser. His account backups are a mere  
memory... Then I look thru the exabyte rack for the video tape in question,  
(Labelled Archive-26/5/90) and throw it in the "Post awaiting cheque  
clearance" bag, addressed to his boss..

It's for the best really, he was under a *lot* of pressure.

The next call of the day is from the User-Union, a pressure group that sprung  
up because some users thought they were getting a rough deal.

There's no pleasing some people!

Anyway, to get them off my back, I invite them in to see just how hectic an  
operator's life really is, and have prepared lots of flashing lights and alert  
sounds to keep the mindless cretins fooled...

They all file into the control room, about 10 of them in all, the dweebish  
types who hang out in groups like this as a social event. Things are going  
well, I'm answering calls and resetting "alarms" when some sour-faced old lard  
jockey ruins everything.

"These bells and lights don't fool me you know. I was an engineer on these  
babies when they first came out. This alarm sequence is invalid. There's no  
such alarm as 00-10-03-15-E. That just can't happen. You've probably just  
programmed the status display to say that! This is all a sham!!"

Trust there to be some re-education loser in the audience to totally stuff up  
my day. That just leaves plan B, although it's risky...

"Yes, it's true" I admit, cowering like Joan Crawford on a bender "It's all  
fake. I just didn't want you seeing what's in the computer room..."

They can't resist the bait. As soon as it looks like I'm hiding something  
they're in for the kill like Piranha.

"WHAT'S IN THE COMPUTER ROOM?!!??" they demand, chomping at the bit

"Well," I say in my best 'this-is-it' voice, "you'd best see for yourself.."

........ ... ..

Later that day, I help the police try and piece the shocking scenario  
together...

"It's shocking!" I say, voice oozing with the horror of it all, "just  
terrible!"

"Yes yes" the officer mumbles, irritated "Let's just go over this one more  
time. You left them in the computer room to go and change some paper and they  
inadvertently triggered the Halon fire extinguishers..."

"Yes, yes, it's awful isn't it officer?!"

"..and even though there's a 30 second warning, they didn't manage to make it  
out the door..."

"Yes, it's such a tragedy"

"..even though two of the people who are supposed to have been smoking and set  
off the extinguishers in the room are dedicated non-smokers..

"Yes, what an unfortunate time to take up the habit!"

"..and even though it looks, judging by the scratch marks that the door was in  
some way locked or jammed..."

"..probably jammed officer, It's a matter of public record that I voiced some  
concern over this very topic although no-one could find any problem with the  
lock in question..."

"And even though someone outside at the viewing window could have sworn that  
they saw you pressing the manual release button on the Halon panel.."

"YES, to try and reset the system and save those poor, innocent people.."

"After ALL that, you still expect me to believe it was an accident?"

"...Well officer, I don't really know what I expect you to do, but your face  
looks vaguely familiar. You haven't used the toilets around here in the past  
have you?"

"Well, I may have once or twice - we get a lot of calls over here since you've  
been here - suicides mainly..."

"Yes yes officer, well how about we go into the control room and look at a  
copy of a video I have, with someone who looks awfully like you, and what they  
do to a loaf of bread...."

...

...

Things are looking up!

He's back from the beerfest, and he's hungover and annoyed. It's....

The Bastard Operator from Britain #2

"Ah Simon, thank you for coming, please sit down"

The promotions committee is strangely quiet today. Normally they're far more  
boisterous and sure of themselves. This has to be good news.

"Now Simon, as you know there's a vacancy for a Senior Operator in the  
Computer Centre following the tragic accident in the staff showers."

"Yes" I utter, "tragic"

"How the hell a toaster got in there in the first place is beyond the scope of  
this committee, as our main interest is to find a replacement as soon as  
possible. Ordinarily, we would appoint such a senior position externally, but  
following that awful business with the lift controller failure and the  
shortlisted candidates.."

"Awful" I sigh, my heart pity at the tragedy of three Senior Operator  
applicants plunging down a lift shaft to their deaths... Completely accidental  
you understand...

"..It still seems very strange; apparently the accident inspector stated that  
the lift appeared to be accelerating *faster* than the speed of gravity when  
it fell. But I guess we'll never know now that the lift control room had that  
big electrical fire..."

I could be oversensitive on this issue, but I'm feeling a little bit of  
dissent in the room around me. Some members of the promotions committee appear  
to be having problems making the decision of whether they should support the  
University's interests by appointing me senior operator or becoming involved  
in the next fatal campus accident. I decide to cut through the red tape and  
get to the point.

"So essentially, all supposition aside, you wish me to take over the role of  
Senior Operator.."

"Ah..." the chairman utters, looking around the room for backup, "..Yes"

"Ok, fine. I'll need a couple of K extra for the increased responsibility, say  
another K for relocation.."

"BUT YOU'RE ONLY TWO OFFICES AWAY!!"

"Good point - another *TWO* K for relocation, and new office furniture.  
Leather Armchairs would be good. Oh, and an espresso machine."

I get up.

"Well, that should be all I think, so I'll just get off back to work"

While they mutter amongst themselves, I make my exit back to the control room.  
As it's getting towards the end of my working day (3pm) I write protect the  
user disk and start a shutdown for 1 minute. The phone rings.

"I can't save my work" a voice sobs from the phone

"You really should try.."

"But the system won't let me" he whimpers, "can you halt the shutdown?"

"Well, I'd like to, but it's irrevocably committed to shutdown - there's no  
telling what might happen - we could lose all your work, there's no  
telling...."

"Um..." - You can almost hear the wheels turning - "...Uh.."

I hang up - they're obviously not committed.

The shutdown completes and I reboot, then decide to introduce a little fun to  
the network by pulling out random staff terminal lines and repatching them to  
the student areas and vice versa. Just like the big break-in of '91.

Next I choose a letter at random from the complaints box to use as this week's  
"External Penetration" victim, then delete all their files.

I decide to get into something new. I break out the telephone serviceman's  
handset and wander into the comms room and start eavesdropping on people's  
conversations.

Most of it is crap, but it gives me an idea. Pipe it all through voice  
recognition and look for words including my name (for security purposes), a  
sexual encounter, or live chickens. Definite possibilities...

A user rings.

"Oh, Hi - can you tell me what my password is please?" they ask

"I'm sorry" I say for the 1 billionth time "passwords are encrypted on the  
system, and it's far easier for me to change your password than to find out  
what it is." (Which is crap; I know what it is, the password changing routine  
does have a slight in-house modification which the implementers probably  
weren't counting on.)

"Oh, ok - could you change it to 'desert' please - that was my old password"

"I'm sorry, but we can't change user's passwords to ones that they supply -  
that would compromise site security"

"Oh, then could you just give me a new password?"

"Sure. What about desert?"

"Huh? .. .. Oh, Ok, that would be fine"

I hang up, they hang up. 10 minutes later they call back.

"Have you changed that password yet?" they ask

"CHANGED the password?" I say "You just asked me to give you a new password,  
you said nothing about changing it"

"But... Oh. Well, could you change it to desert for me please?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that, because of the security compromise, as I told  
you before. If I knew your password, I could possibly log into your account  
without you knowing, couldn't I?"

"Well yes..."

"And if that happened, your data would be compromised, wouldn't it?"

"Uhh, yes, I suppose it would"

"So in other words, if two people have the password to an account, the  
security of it is at least halved, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right"

"Of course I am, I'm the *OPERATOR*. I'm not only right, I'm wrong if I want  
to be as well.."

"Uh.."

He doesn't know whether to agree or not. Wimp.

"Now," I say, breaking the tension "I'll change your password for you"

"Ok, thanks"

"No worries. Bye now"

"B. >click They ring back

"You didn't tell me my password!"

"Of course I didn't. We already agreed that two people knowing the password is  
less secure than one, didn't we?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"No buts, security is security, off you go..."

That's the problem with this job, it doesn't come naturally - you have to  
*WORK* on it.

________________________________________________________________________
The electronic rights of BOFH are owned by DATAMATION magazine.
All other rights are retained by Simon Travaglia <spt@waikato.ac.nz>.

© 1996 Peter Langston