Steal This Book Part 2

[firsty]

this is announcement of the soft launch of:

Steal This Wiki:

http://stealthiswiki.nine9pages.com

The goal is to build a collaborative, sort of second edition, update to "Steal This Book," that Yippie handbook written by Abbie Hoffman in 1970. Ultimately, I'd like to have it available for anyone to print, distribute and, of course, steal.

The entire text of "Steal This Book" is displayed on the site, and anyone can visit and add or revise it. The information and format need a lot of work in order to make it relevant to today's America, but I hope to remain true to Hoffman's revolutionary spirit, "Revolution is not something fixed in ideology, nor is it something fashioned to a particular decade. It is a perpetual process embedded in the human spirit."

Despite the original text's references to weapons and violence, this site has been launched by a pacifist (me) who does not advocate violent methods of change. This is a project I've wanted to do for some time. I think the time is right.

This site is intended, however, to support and distribute information that is relevent to this day and age, which can be reasonably defined as one in which Americans are forced to deal with difficult issues, such as a military led by an unwise and unreasonable group of people, and in which we are forced to deal with real and dangerous threats.

Most importantly, there is an enormous part of our population greatly dissatisfied with not only the precise mistakes of our current administration, but also the direction the country is heading in, as defined by lobbyists, corporations and otherwise immoral, greedy and deceptive parties.

And there was a wide range of other important topics covered in the original, such as tips for living free and cheap, where to find medical help, how to protest, etc.

Hopefully as the content on this site evolves, while it is not intended to mirror the original work, it will become a new and similarly useful work, holding true to the spirit of the original, and providing useful information to those who value freedom, peace and justice in this great nation of ours and around the world.

This will be a group effort, so all are invited.

I plan to roll this out to blogs for promotion starting Tuesday, July 4, in celebration of the independence of the great nation of America. Feel free to sign up and get started, because YOU ARE SPECIAL!!!

[stilltrucking]

What follows is the original text


GENERAL BOMB STRATEGY

Always be careful in placing the devices to keep them away from glass windows and as far away from the front of the building as possible. Direct them away from any area in which there might be people. Sophisticated electric timers should be used only by experts in demolitions. Operate in the wee hours of the night and be careful that you don't injure a night watchman or guard. Telephone in warnings before the bomb goes off.

***

When you get books from companies or libraries dealing with explosives or guerrilla warfare, use a phony name and address. Always do this if you obtain chemicals from a chemical supply house. These places are being increasingly watched by the F.B.I. Store your material and literature in a safe cool place and above all, keep your big mouth shut!

http://stealthiswiki.nine9pages.com/ind ... f_Contents

[firsty]

actually, the entire text is on the site. you dont need to repost it here. altho, feel free! it's not stealing if the author said it was ok.

[stilltrucking]

I was just trying to be helpful. Maybe that section should be updated and changed to how to bake a custard cream pie not a bomb. I think that is a not helpful information. Nobody had better intentions than Ted Kaczynski. Too bad he was bat shit crazy. Poor abbie may he rest in peace. A lot of good info in that book, but that bit ain’t helpful. At all. Not to throw the bath water out with the baby.

Ship of Fools, by Ted Kaczynski

Once upon a time, the captain and the mates of a ship grew so vain of their seamanship, so full of hubris and so impressed with themselves, that they went mad. They turned the ship north and sailed until they met with icebergs and dangerous floes, and they kept sailing north into more and more perilous waters, solely in order to give themselves opportunities to perform ever-more-brilliant feats of seamanship.
As the ship reached higher and higher latitudes, the passengers and crew became increasingly uncomfortable. They began quarreling among themselves and complaining of the conditions under which they lived.
“Shiver me timbers,” said an able seaman, “if this ain’t the worst voyage I’ve ever been on. The deck is slick with ice; when I’m on lookout the wind cuts through me jacket like a knife; every time I reef the foresail I blamed-near freeze me fingers; and all I get for it is a miserable five shillings a month!”
“You think you have it bad!” said a lady passenger. “I can’t sleep at night for the cold. Ladies on this ship don’t get as many blankets as the men. It isn’t fair!”
A Mexican sailor chimed in: ”¡Chingado! I’m only getting half the wages of the Anglo seamen. We need plenty of food to keep us warm in this climate, and I’m not getting my share; the Anglos get more. And the worst of it is that the mates always give me orders in English instead of Spanish.”
“I have more reason to complain than anybody,” said an American Indian sailor. “If the palefaces hadn’t robbed me of my ancestral lands, I wouldn’t even be on this ship, here among the icebergs and arctic winds. I would just be paddling a canoe on a nice, placid lake. I deserve compensation. At the very least, the captain should let me run a crap game so that I can make some money.”
The bosun spoke up: “Yesterday the first mate called me a ‘fruit’ just because I suck cocks. I have a right to suck cocks without being called names for it!”
It’s not only humans who are mistreated on this ship,” interjected an animal-lover among the passengers, her voice quivering with indignation. “Why, last week I saw the second mate kick the ship’s dog twice!”
One of the passengers was a college professor. Wringing his hands he exclaimed, “All this is just awful! It’s immoral! It’s racism, sexism, speciesism, homophobia, and exploitation of the working class! It’s discrimination! We must have social justice: Equal wages for the Mexican sailor, higher wages for all sailors, compensation for the Indian, equal blankets for the ladies, a guaranteed right to suck cocks, and no more kicking the dog!”
“Yes, yes!” shouted the passengers. “Aye-aye!” shouted the crew. “It’s discrimination! We have to demand our rights!”
The cabin boy cleared his throat.
“Ahem. You all have good reasons to complain. But it seems to me that what we really have to do is get this ship turned around and headed back south, because if we keep going north we’re sure to be wrecked sooner or later, and then your wages, your blankets, and your right to suck cocks won’t do you any good, because we’ll all drown.” But no one paid any attention to him, because he was only the cabin boy.
The captain and the mates, from their station on the poop deck, had been watching and listening.
Now they smiled and winked at one another, and at a gesture from the captain the third mate came down from the poop deck, sauntered over to where the passengers and crew were gathered, and shouldered his way in amongst them. He put a very serious expression on his face and spoke thusly:
“We officers have to admit that some really inexcusable things have been happening on this ship. We hadn’t realized how bad the situation was until we heard your complaints. We are men of good will and want to do right by you. But – well – the captain is rather conservative and set in his ways, and may have to be prodded a bit before he’ll make any substantial changes. My personal opinion is that if you protest vigorously – but always peacefully and without violating any of the ship’s rules – you would shake the captain out of his inertia and force him to address the problems of which you so justly complain.”
Having said this, the third mate headed back toward the poop deck. As he went, the passengers and crew called after him, “Moderate! Reformer! Goody-liberal! Captain’s stooge!” But they nevertheless did as he said. They gathered in a body before the poop deck, shouted insults at the officers, and demanded their rights: “I want higher wages and better working conditions,” cried the able seaman.
“Equal blankets for women,” cried the lady passenger. “I want to receive my orders in Spanish,” cried the Mexican sailor. “I want the right to run a crap game,” cried the Indian sailor. “I don’t want to be called a fruit,” cried the bosun. “No more kicking the dog,” cried the animal lover. “Revolution now,” cried the professor.
The captain and the mates huddled together and conferred for several minutes, winking, nodding and smiling at one another all the while. Then the captain stepped to the front of the poop deck and, with a great show of benevolence, announced that the able seaman’s wages would be raised to six shillings a month; the Mexican sailor’s wages would be raised to two-thirds the wages of an Anglo seaman, and the order to reef the foresail would be given in Spanish; lady passengers would receive one more blanket; the Indian sailor would be allowed to run a crap game on Saturday nights; the bosun wouldn’t be called a fruit as long as he kept his cocksucking strictly private; and the dog wouldn’t be kicked unless he did something really naughty, such as stealing food from the galley.
The passengers and crew celebrated these concessions as a great victory, but the next morning, they were again feeling dissatisfied.
“Six shillings a month is a pittance, and I still freeze me fingers when I reef the foresail,” grumbled the able seaman. “I’m still not getting the same wages as the Anglos, or enough food for this climate,” said the Mexican sailor. “We women still don’t have enough blankets to keep us warm,” said the lady passenger. The other crewmen and passengers voiced similar complaints, and the professor egged them on.
When they were done, the cabin boy spoke up – louder this time so that the others could not easily ignore him: “It’s really terrible that the dog gets kicked for stealing a bit of bread from the galley, and that women don’t have equal blankets, and that the able seaman gets his fingers frozen; and I don’t see why the bosun shouldn’t suck cocks if he wants to. But look how thick the icebergs are now, and how the wind blows harder and harder! We’ve got to turn this ship back toward the south, because if we keep going north we’ll be wrecked and drowned.”
“Oh yes,” said the bosun, “It’s just so awful that we keep heading north. But why should I have to keep cocksucking in the closet? Why should I be called a fruit? Ain’t I as good as everyone else?”
“Sailing north is terrible,” said the lady passenger. “But don’t you see? That’s exactly why women need more blankets to keep them warm. I demand equal blankets for women now!”
“It’s quite true,” said the professor, “that sailing to the north imposes great hardships on all of us. But changing course toward the south would be unrealistic. You can’t turn back the clock. We must find a mature way of dealing with the situation.”
“Look,” said the cabin boy, “If we let those four madmen up on the poop deck have their way, we’ll all be drowned. If we ever get the ship out of danger, then we can worry about working conditions, blankets for women, and the right to suck cocks. But first we’ve got to get this vessel turned around. If a few of us get together, make a plan, and show some courage, we can save ourselves. It wouldn’t take many of us – six or eight would do. We could charge the poop, chuck those lunatics overboard, and turn the ship to the south.”
The professor elevated his nose and said sternly, “I don’t believe in violence. It’s immoral.”
“It’s unethical ever to use violence,” said the bosun.
“I’m terrified of violence,” said the lady passenger.
The captain and the mates had been watching and listening all the while. At a signal from the captain, the third mate stepped down to the main deck. He went about among the passengers and crew, telling them that there were still many problems on the ship.
“We have made much progress,” he said, “But much remains to be done. Working conditions for the able seaman are still hard, the Mexican still isn’t getting the same wages as the Anglos, the women still don’t have quite as many blankets as the men, the Indian’s Saturday-night crap game is a paltry compensation for his lost lands, it’s unfair to the bosun that he has to keep his cocksucking in the closet, and the dog still gets kicked at times.
“I think the captain needs to be prodded again. It would help if you all would put on another protest – as long as it remains nonviolent.”
As the third mate walked back toward the stern, the passengers and the crew shouted insults after him, but they nevertheless did what he said and gathered in front of the poop deck for another protest. They ranted and raved and brandished their fists, and they even threw a rotten egg at the captain (which he skillfully dodged).
After hearing their complaints, the captain and the mates huddled for a conference, during which they winked and grinned broadly at one another. Then the captain stepped to the front of the poop deck and announced that the able seaman would be given gloves to keep his fingers warm, the Mexican sailor would receive wages equal to three-fourths the wages of an Anglo seaman, the women would receive yet another blanket, the Indian sailor could run a crap game on Saturday and Sunday nights, the bosun would be allowed to suck cocks publicly after dark, and no one could kick the dog without special permission from the captain.
The passengers and crew were ecstatic over this great revolutionary victory, but by the next morning they were again feeling dissatisfied and began grumbling about the same old hardships. The cabin boy this time was getting angry.
“You damn fools!” he shouted. “Don’t you see what the captain and the mates are doing? They’re keeping you occupied with your trivial grievances about blankets and wages and the dog being kicked so that you won’t think about what is really wrong with this ship—- that it’s getting farther and farther to the north and we’re all going to be drowned. If just a few of you would come to your senses, get together, and charge the poop deck, we could turn this ship around and save ourselves.
But all you do is whine about petty little issues like working conditions and crap games and the right to suck cocks.” The passengers and the crew were incensed.
“Petty!!” cried the Mexican, “Do you think it’s reasonable that I get only three-fourths the wages of an Anglo sailor? Is that petty?
“How can you call my grievance trivial? shouted the bosun. “Don’t you know how humiliating it is to be called a fruit?”
“Kicking the dog is not a ‘petty little issue!’” screamed the animal-lover.
“It’s heartless, cruel, and brutal!”
“Alright then,” answered the cabin boy. “These issues are not petty and trivial. Kicking the dog is cruel and brutal and it is humiliating to be called a fruit. But in comparison to our real problem – in comparison to the fact that the ship is still heading north – your grievances are petty and trivial, because if we don’t get this ship turned around soon, we’re all going to drown.”
“Fascist!” said the professor.
“Counterrevolutionary!” said the lady passenger. And all of the passengers and crew chimed in one after another, calling the cabin boy a fascist and a counterrevolutionary.
They pushed him away and went back to grumbling about wages, and about blankets for women, and about the right to suck cocks, and about how the dog was treated. The ship kept sailing north, and after a while it was crushed between two icebergs and everyone drowned.

http://bigoil.gnn.tv/blogs/6607/Ship_of ... _Kaczynski

[firsty]

settle down there, slim.

first of all, the quoted text is almost 40 yrs old. meaning: my doing ANYTHING with it is more than an entire generation separated from its origin, during which time the text has existed without the world coming to an end.

second of all, that material is available in many different places/titles/forms/resources.

third of all, had you bothered to put it into context, you'd see that the original text is not to be mirrored and that neither i nor the site endorses violence or criminal activity.

but thanks for posting the manifesto of the unibomber or whatever the hell that was, which, unlike hoffman's text, was part of something designed to hurt people.

but i appreciate your opinion, and, you'll notice, there is also a place for recipes in the original text.

come one, come all.

[stilltrucking]

wa.

[firsty]

omg man that was so fucking funny.

i despise emoticons as if they were little republican eichmanns and oil barons, but here i bestow upon you an emoticon.

i'm not kidding. i'm not sure how to say this with appropriate sincerity without sounding like a sarcastic twit, but that was the hardest i've laughed sitting in front of a computer since furnish posted that ARE YOU EPILEPTIC website that flashed like crazy.

touche, my friend.

[stilltrucking]

Abbie was a good man, it is a worthwihile book. Was it only thirty years ago? Seems longer than that., I did not remember that section on the bombs. Shows you how times have changed.

It is a good project, I wish you the best with it.

[e_dog]

"A lot of good info in that book, but that bit ain’t helpful. At all."

oh really, stilltruckin?

"'Operate in the wee hours of the night and be careful that you don't injure a night watchman or guard. Telephone in warnings before the bomb goes off.'"

sounds like that is rather good moral advice to avoid injuring people.

obviously, it'd be better if people did not set off bombs at all. but the different between, say, (1) the Weathermen and ELF both of which have never killed a person (aside from the Weathermen who accidentally blew themselves up in their own lab) despite carrying out numerous bombings of buildings, etc. on the one hand, and on the other hand, (2) abortion-clinic bombers, the Unibomber, A l Queda and the the U.S. Air Force, is precisely the differnce between sabotage and terrorism. the tactics employed by those in class 1 (Weathermen, ELF) above are merely violence against inanimate targets, with NO collateral damage, whereas the tactics of the groups in class 2 (Al Queda, U.S. Air Force, Ted Kazinski, E. Rudolph, etc.) are terrorism.

[firsty]

edog, i hope you can make it to the Steal This Book thing. it could use you, seriously.

-f

[the flaming ace]

oh thankx i shall return in th manyana
started reading th intro writ by good ol abbie whilst hewas in th jail
a sort of manifesto as it were
thankz again!
i gotta figure this whole thang out fer sure
ithinkicanithinkican

[the flaming ace]

i wanna say that the mad bumb's little ditty sucked

if thhere was ant redeeming value in it
i spoze
th bit about th ship heading north

it's kinda like how th working class is
all divided, duh, an a sea change is in order
so
that was ok.
how he translated that into bombzz tho is
the clue
to what NOT to do.

i sent out the wikky link to amigos on a communal pharmm in mmiissiissiippiippii
mercy
i'll rewrite th maniphezto if'n i must?

[jimboloco]

i remember when patti hearzt got kidnapped
by the Symbioneze Liberation Army
i was working at th rio tinto copper mine
near mountain city, nevada,
i did some hiking on dayz off
loverly hikez up into white birch meadows
out of scrub hi desert
raging inside

rage against th machine

i had thought about blowing up bombers
finding th fuel pipes that funnel jetz
stealth striker
an somebody always got hurt
burning running dying
not i not for me
no

abbie had his limits
no doubt
but his burning passion for revolutionary socio-politico-cultural change was unparelleld
sow th seeds, th fields have been fallow

will follow.

[firsty]

nobody gets hurt, everybody wins.

we're REwriting.

if the original was good enough, we wouldnt be REwriting.

lets not blow up anything.

lets just blow their minds.

woah i'm sounding like a hippie now.

lets roll!

[jimboloco]

ok so how do i post and/or re-post to the stolen book?