Where is detailed Afterburner when we need him?

125.108.98.8:6653 open socks4 proxy was used on 27 November for a
Hipcrime attack on nanae. And I got the port number by Googling so it
must have been open and was probably abused before that date.

It was used late North American Monday for a Hipcrime attack on
24hoursupport.helpdesk and the same open proxy was still there Tuesday
at 16:11 GMT.

At one time, RCN (formerly Erols) had the famous Afterburner on its
abuse desk. Now, it seems to have Dave Null.

Remember - go to RCN for your net-abuse needs. You put up a phishing
page? It will still be up on Valentine Day. You can get Giganews with
only IP authentication through RCN.

--
theyll  shoot  me i don't  care theyll shoot me  in the back of the
neck i dont care down with big brother they always shoot you in the back of
the neck i dont care down with big brother--

     He  sat back  in his chair, slightly ashamed of himself, and laid down
the  pen. The next moment he started violently. There was a knocking at the
door.
     Already!  He sat as  still as a mouse, in the futile hope that whoever
it  was  might go  away after  a single  attempt. But  no, the knocking was
repeated.  The worst thing of all would be to delay. His heart was thumping
like a drum, but his face, from long habit, was probably expressionless. He
got up and moved heavily towards the door.



        II

     As  he put his  hand to the door-knob Winston saw that he had left the
diary  open on the table. DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER was written all over it, in
letters  almost  big enough  to  be  legible across  the  room.  It was  an
inconceivably  stupid  thing to  have done.  But, he  realized, even in his
panic  he  had not wanted  to smudge the creamy  paper by shutting the book
while the ink was wet.
     He  drew in  his breath and opened  the door. Instantly a warm wave of
relief  flowed through him. A colourless, crushed-looking woman, with wispy
hair and a lined face, was standing outside.
     'Oh,  comrade,' she  began  in a  dreary, whining  sort  of voice,  'I
thought  I heard you come in. Do you think you could come across and have a
look at our kitchen sink? It's got blocked up and--'
     It  was Mrs.  Parsons, the  wife  of a  neighbour on  the same  floor.
('Mrs.'  was a  word  somewhat discountenanced  by the  Party  -- you  were
supposed  to  call everyone  'comrade' --  but with some