I am a computer hacker.

Hey. Let's get something straight right off the bat: you probably won't like me.

But that's okay. I don't like you either. I like sheep on my plate, not littered throughout society. If you want to submit to the government machine, go ahead, but stay out of my way. Here's some quick tips:

1) Do NOT underestimate me.
2) Do NOT anger me. Seriously.
3) Leave me alone. I'll grant you the same luxury.

You might take a curious glance in my direction. Strange looking kid. An obvious affection for black attire, you might note. Should my eyes meet yours, I may raise an eyebrow or give a lazy smirk. I am analyzing; I can tell so much about you. You're so naive, it's almost cute. What do you know about me, though? You'll likely never solve it on your own.

I am a computer hacker. I'm the guy you hear about in the news. You'll never see me though; I'm untraceable. Like a ghost, nothing but a translucent orb in your family photos. You'll sense my presence but never have a direct encounter. The internet is my turf. My bullets come in 64KB rounds, magazines of billions.

Do yourself a favour and take my tips.

Keep your fingernails to the mirrors, kids.

Skiddie,
I know who you are. You're almost invariably male, caucasian, middle-class. Your parents were normal, vanilla folks. Maybe you had a sibling or two.

You went to a public school, pulling high or middlish grades with ease and relative disinterest. You didn't really gel with most of the other kids; you found them boring, they found you weird. Your contempt for the average person grew with your age, never seizing control like in some emo dipshit, but simmering casually in the back of your head. When some asshole who could barely read got hurt, you pyobably laughed. When some stuck-up skank got herpes, you probably smiled. Chances are you got on well enough with your teachers; you weren't a preening asshole like many of your peers, at least showed vague interest in learning, and perhaps the teacher sensed and picked up on your general contempt for others in your classes. This trend no doubt continued into college, if you had the motivation to bother.

It's a bit of an exaggeration to say you hate women: you don't, after all, enjoy the socializing game. You're probably no Don Juan, either. You long ago began to think of women as disappointingly petty, but you still hope to encounter someone interesting at some time or another.

You enjoy being a skiddie because it is a release from the normal world: no skiddes are not crackers, no skiddes are preening faggots. Skiddie realizes he is just a guy fucking around on the internet. Anonymous knows others of his kind enjoy this fact, too. You despise the furfag, the gaiafag, the internet tuff guy for one simple reason: he acts like the internet is the real world, a place where actions should have social consequences and where there needs to be a pecking order. Needless to say, you do not approve.