My First Def Con
----------------
   On finding decadence and dialogue in the desert
   By Kevin Poulsen  July 14, 1999

   I'm wandering through the hall outside the main conference room at the
   Alexis  Park  Hotel,  stepping gingerly over blue Ethernet cable while
   gripping a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Las Vegas is a
   nexus  of  many  vices,  crammed  into spurts of late-night binges and
   hangover mornings.

   Last  weekend it became an oasis of decadence and dialogue in a desert
   turned to mud by a freak thunderstorm.

   It's   the  seventh  annual  Def  Con,  the  computer  underground
   convention: my first. Around me, a chaotic bazaar shows hackers of all
   shapes  and  sizes  crowding  around  tables  stacked with underground
   publication,  T-shirts,  and  chunks of technology begging to be taken
   apart   and   reassembled.  The  younger  attendees  are  drowning  in
   caffeinated drinks-- primarily Jolt cola, which was apparently stocked
   by the hotel especially for this occasion.

   "How  is  publicly  releasing a hacking tool different from giving out
   guns  to  children?"  queries the voice behind the camera, aimed for a
   kill shot at my head.

   Earlier  in  the  day,  The  Cult  of  the  Dead  Cow  made  a  flashy
   standing-room-only   presentation   of   Back   Orifice   2000   --  a
   feature-packed  but  stealthy remote-control utility for Windows-- and
   it's fast becoming a symbol for the conference.

   I  don't know how to answer a question comparing a computer program to
   a firearm, but when the voice rephrases, I offer my soundbite.

   "Secrecy only helps the bad guys."

   By  my  definition,  everyone  at  Def  Con  is a good guy, except the
   handful  of good gals. The thousands of hackers, security consultants,
   outlaws,  and  scenesters  from around the world are laying bare their
   knowledge,  and sometimes their flesh, to each other and to the roving
   (and  steadily  increasing) glass eyes of news organizations that they
   suspect just don't get it.

   Even the cops tend towards openness, good-naturedly accepting their "I
   Am the Fed" T-shirts when sharp-eyed hackers pick them from the crowd.

The Primo Stuff

   The  Dead  Cow was the star of the show, but other highlights included
   the  premiere  of  a nine-minute teaser for Freedom Downtime, 2600
   editor  Emmanuel Goldstein's work-in-progress about the legal travails
   of imprisoned hacker Kevin Mitnick.

   After  seeing  the  trailer,  Chaos  Theory foresees Goldstein and his
   documentary appearing at Cannes. You heard it here first.

   Austin  Hill,  president of Zero Knowledge Systems Inc., described
   the  workings  of  his  company's  much-anticipated  Freedom  Net,  an
   elaborate  system  intended  to cloak the online activities of privacy
   conscious netizens.

   Hill  wins  my  Golden  Aphorism award (which I just invented) for his
   answer  to  law enforcement's complaints that Internet anonymity makes
   their job harder: "Policing is only easy in a police state."

   Sessions  at  the  conference  covered  public  policy,  tutorials  on
   computer   security   and   lock-picking,   a  plethora  of  technical
   discussions,   and  games,  such  as  Hacker  Jeopardy  and  a  social
   engineering contest.

   At  night,  hackers raved on the conference dance floor and partied in
   the suites.

   And  it's  there,  away  from the rows of Linux boxes and laptops, and
   beyond  the reach of the blue cables, that the excesses of the Def Con
   nightlife  evoke  a Hollywood party, circa 1985. Reclining next to the
   hot tub at a shindig in one of the more spacious suites-- a vice, once
   again, in each hand-- someone offers me a tiny Ziplock bag filled with
   white powder.

   The illusion is dispelled when I read the warning label affixed to the
   bag.  The  powder  is  100  percent  pure caffeine. Primo stuff at the
   hacker con.

   Editor's  Note: Kevin Poulsen was a speaker at Def Con, and was on the
   team  that  won  Hacker Jeopardy, which also included Jennifer Granick
   and Mark Lottor.