bytes in the new header for interVLAN comm the network is the same except for the 'stop and forward' packet CiscoIOS default routing scheme of newly purchased gateway devices (to parse SSL checksums) learning/*updating routing table merely a token pass around the VLAN network, dual full duplex, (from IP LAYER of TCP/IP Stack) [see also specifications of OSI Layer 2, & Layer 3 address caching] because a VLAN is a port-mounted network, in other words, a virtual network is manually aqssigned on Network Interface Cards/Ports, and in configurations of VLANs on a Cisco IOS router the network port is viewed as the default gateway by the VLAN. Thus, the VLAN will not receive network traffice (outside VLAN:A) unless the 'gateway port' is configured for network communication.
...but what about ZFT Hackers?
Without SYN/ACK/SYN, in which VLAN A is isolated within the ports of a random Cisco IOS switch, attaching a network for functional internetworking to a virtual LAN A as if it were open to any delta of new artificial networks, syphoning encrypted traffc it is, but it is more. The tactic is to plant a VLAN while you commandeer the network port (aka VLA A's default gateway) while any ports on the VLAN are using your access port b/c they're 'rush attacked' by packets from a functioning distraction, just be sure you know where that file is before you hit a secure server.
Sound difficult? In a way, it's not.
If you get access to the server you'll be plugging-in a small devices into an ethernet port (it looks like a larger phone cord jack), it is called the console port and has no neighbor ports. Security systems involve metal detection and EMP waypoints to wipe any devices Q Branch assigns agents. Please do not break Q Branch technology if not in active combat.
Threat assessment is indexed of an Access Control List (ACL), where like on airline flights, network bandwidth is intentionally limited, separating a virtual LAN works like a network traffic spoofing sonata/suite, for the time limited by network inactivity, without packet loss by CSMA/CD, a ghost-town network, once the box from Q Branch connects it will download the files we need - IMPORTANT, file transfers are noticed if large, Q devices will download segments of the file by hacking nearby CPUs in what is called a BotNet, this is a trade for time, the time it takes for the Q hack devices is 10 seconds per nearby computer, password protected files are not opened so that will not add time. Luckily when a segment of the file reaches the Q device it will begin synching with your cell-phone, at no overhead cost to the Q device, once the first segment is loaded, a light will switch and you can walk out killing if you need.
Permanent Virtual Circuit
Deus X.25 Machina
24 September 2013
20 September 2013
Merlin 3:24 "The Fairy Dost"
Merlin 3:24 "The Fairy Dost"
~ @mjbanks
In the nine worlds, one Alfheim, or the home of elves, yet as this name lends itself to the Elven foresters it bears the name in old ways to others. It is the nesting grounds of the Valkyries, first children of the gods, and keener to Midgard and closer to it than any bethinks, merely one outcome of man and spake of this too much. There the Valkyries have origin and serve the Aesir king Odin and Valhalla, and Folkvangr, the field of the ghosts, perhaps of innocent children and priests slain. Much is beyond the runes from this vantage, tho there is rumor of Freyja wandering and vanishing into the forest mists of Asgard to a Vanir preserve, plotting to overthrow her king.
Of course, there are the light elves, whose skin in moonlight shares its color and candor, tall and swift born as protectorates of their home and conservators of land by skill of combat and aged ears to hear for hunting in fields. They are also ahead of man, but in much that way that men are ahead of themselves. They have chosen not to speak to their Valkyrie cousins for many ages and many reasons of resentment and envy, and finitely there are sprites and wights of the Fay, who live in the mountain forests and the valleys below them.
Sefa lays on a stone in a vale of bright flora and extremely tall trees, wings soaking the sunlight reflective of the stars of dawn, the flowers begin to open and wave and fly from stems into the air again of a new day, her arms stretched overhead folded at wrist, her crystalline eyes open to the golden morning. A stretch of equipoise and lengthy blinks to reconvene awake, with her hands behind her as she hangs her head backwards to enjoy the waking sunlight.
Up she moves and singing sooths the breeze and forward in style of spinning on her hands like cartwheels once and standing backs into a pole, a noise snaps from a wild reed, a string of a trap alerts a mighty ground spider in a hole that leaps to outright snare her. The spider tall as she and deadly silk as tall as three stretches forward by the utmost of gangly spider legs rising over her head, but with a smile, she takes her sword and spinning cuts two legs and draping net the web over wretched insect mouth and eyes. She twirls about the other way and pokes it in its mind, fallen is the buggy thing whose net now serves its own demise, and again the fairy travels thru the jungle with the giant trees. Spreading her wings she goes to fro, and flutters her wings of shiny surface thru the top of the meadow growth, occasionally turning as she flies with backside under toes, and glides again to rest her feet only to drink butterscotch from strong handsome flowers.
Keeps she low for soon to know is she of dragonflies, they have eyes like spiders and wings that are almost like hers so that a fairy can think to see another, but has black and sharp edges, they are as big as she and on their back would be from head to feet, and fly better for turning. They wander the great wide open looking for flowers and one attacks her, but with her power meets it in the air holds its wings and sits on its stomach until it crashes on its back where she punches it stoutly on the nose and moves on her way.
In this moment of her jumping into the sky a frog that regularly eats dragonflies, shoots its tongue to stick and pull her into its mouth thinking that she is just another bug. Her wings twist and her body spins like an arrow, she opens them to catch the wind, an upright spinning air ballet her sword slices thru the tongue of the toad that lets out an extra-long croak of ouch. The distrustful frog tries to harm her again, to leap and bite with an open mouth, and thus she ends it much the same way, as had the spider. She cuts a piece of the tree next to her and takes a drink of dew-sap.
Then comes by her a mighty dog pup, whimpering and lost, who eats the frog at her request. The canine sad and awfully mad it cannot find its family, and in that anger howls into the air to hear if other dogs call to it in return, but alas they do not. Sefa, sorrowing for the animal, hops onto its back and whistles the way fairies dote and hears she in the distance other beastly wolfs and takes it to its kin. In the distance, she sees the dogs and smiles happy to have helped, but before reaching them, a pattering of heavy feet in pointed shoes comes charging from afar.
If one has not seen a dwarf run it is quite a sight, they are very strong with bursting muscled arms, and doth this one comes running swinging hammer ax and net to cast and bean cap all in tow. The black-bearded dwarf gives quickly chase, to capture a fairy in the field in hopes to crush her into gold. Sefa, with the magic of the earth and the power of the sun, pushes her feet into the ground and raises her wings stretching high above her head. She glows and with strong lift begins quicker flight, to strike the running dwarf she begins to glow ever bright, for dwarves are strong, but live so deep under the ground in cities far from sound where the only light is often of many candles and torches and the dinner fires of their festivals. Brighter and brighter still she flies toward his heart, around her the wind burns and overflows into the passing air, the burning shine of her magic the dwarf hopes to squint while running nearly blinded of all sight and as he almost stops, she strikes him with full force with all her strength without remorse, a fireball of smite. The impact blasts a blue-fire wake, lifting him from his feet and resting him heavily and swiftly some thirty human paces over somewhere in a field near the forest.
Kylesa, flying high in the sky passes by over the dwarf defied and circles-back to visit, for her sooth is all encroaching unto the poaching of plunder from those who walk aground asunder winds of change, and in coming to the fore her landing on the soil. The dwarf now waking to a battle in the making and only sees the massive bird a grey called blue not knowing what to say without seeing her upon it. For as the days are long and in many children’s songs of every race the great birds of heron like to peck, claw, and eat the dwarves they discover. Hammer axe swinging overhead he brings his weapon mightily at the spreading wings and downward swings, but misses at the mark, the steel swung arcs to pound the meadow with a thud. Skyward lifts the bird and talons kick him in his face to claw a brutal tear and standing there is Kylesa with heavy arrow laden bound with anger drawn and pointed close between his eyes to much surprise and wry command.
~ @mjbanks
In the nine worlds, one Alfheim, or the home of elves, yet as this name lends itself to the Elven foresters it bears the name in old ways to others. It is the nesting grounds of the Valkyries, first children of the gods, and keener to Midgard and closer to it than any bethinks, merely one outcome of man and spake of this too much. There the Valkyries have origin and serve the Aesir king Odin and Valhalla, and Folkvangr, the field of the ghosts, perhaps of innocent children and priests slain. Much is beyond the runes from this vantage, tho there is rumor of Freyja wandering and vanishing into the forest mists of Asgard to a Vanir preserve, plotting to overthrow her king.
Of course, there are the light elves, whose skin in moonlight shares its color and candor, tall and swift born as protectorates of their home and conservators of land by skill of combat and aged ears to hear for hunting in fields. They are also ahead of man, but in much that way that men are ahead of themselves. They have chosen not to speak to their Valkyrie cousins for many ages and many reasons of resentment and envy, and finitely there are sprites and wights of the Fay, who live in the mountain forests and the valleys below them.
Sefa lays on a stone in a vale of bright flora and extremely tall trees, wings soaking the sunlight reflective of the stars of dawn, the flowers begin to open and wave and fly from stems into the air again of a new day, her arms stretched overhead folded at wrist, her crystalline eyes open to the golden morning. A stretch of equipoise and lengthy blinks to reconvene awake, with her hands behind her as she hangs her head backwards to enjoy the waking sunlight.
Up she moves and singing sooths the breeze and forward in style of spinning on her hands like cartwheels once and standing backs into a pole, a noise snaps from a wild reed, a string of a trap alerts a mighty ground spider in a hole that leaps to outright snare her. The spider tall as she and deadly silk as tall as three stretches forward by the utmost of gangly spider legs rising over her head, but with a smile, she takes her sword and spinning cuts two legs and draping net the web over wretched insect mouth and eyes. She twirls about the other way and pokes it in its mind, fallen is the buggy thing whose net now serves its own demise, and again the fairy travels thru the jungle with the giant trees. Spreading her wings she goes to fro, and flutters her wings of shiny surface thru the top of the meadow growth, occasionally turning as she flies with backside under toes, and glides again to rest her feet only to drink butterscotch from strong handsome flowers.
Keeps she low for soon to know is she of dragonflies, they have eyes like spiders and wings that are almost like hers so that a fairy can think to see another, but has black and sharp edges, they are as big as she and on their back would be from head to feet, and fly better for turning. They wander the great wide open looking for flowers and one attacks her, but with her power meets it in the air holds its wings and sits on its stomach until it crashes on its back where she punches it stoutly on the nose and moves on her way.
In this moment of her jumping into the sky a frog that regularly eats dragonflies, shoots its tongue to stick and pull her into its mouth thinking that she is just another bug. Her wings twist and her body spins like an arrow, she opens them to catch the wind, an upright spinning air ballet her sword slices thru the tongue of the toad that lets out an extra-long croak of ouch. The distrustful frog tries to harm her again, to leap and bite with an open mouth, and thus she ends it much the same way, as had the spider. She cuts a piece of the tree next to her and takes a drink of dew-sap.
Then comes by her a mighty dog pup, whimpering and lost, who eats the frog at her request. The canine sad and awfully mad it cannot find its family, and in that anger howls into the air to hear if other dogs call to it in return, but alas they do not. Sefa, sorrowing for the animal, hops onto its back and whistles the way fairies dote and hears she in the distance other beastly wolfs and takes it to its kin. In the distance, she sees the dogs and smiles happy to have helped, but before reaching them, a pattering of heavy feet in pointed shoes comes charging from afar.
If one has not seen a dwarf run it is quite a sight, they are very strong with bursting muscled arms, and doth this one comes running swinging hammer ax and net to cast and bean cap all in tow. The black-bearded dwarf gives quickly chase, to capture a fairy in the field in hopes to crush her into gold. Sefa, with the magic of the earth and the power of the sun, pushes her feet into the ground and raises her wings stretching high above her head. She glows and with strong lift begins quicker flight, to strike the running dwarf she begins to glow ever bright, for dwarves are strong, but live so deep under the ground in cities far from sound where the only light is often of many candles and torches and the dinner fires of their festivals. Brighter and brighter still she flies toward his heart, around her the wind burns and overflows into the passing air, the burning shine of her magic the dwarf hopes to squint while running nearly blinded of all sight and as he almost stops, she strikes him with full force with all her strength without remorse, a fireball of smite. The impact blasts a blue-fire wake, lifting him from his feet and resting him heavily and swiftly some thirty human paces over somewhere in a field near the forest.
Kylesa, flying high in the sky passes by over the dwarf defied and circles-back to visit, for her sooth is all encroaching unto the poaching of plunder from those who walk aground asunder winds of change, and in coming to the fore her landing on the soil. The dwarf now waking to a battle in the making and only sees the massive bird a grey called blue not knowing what to say without seeing her upon it. For as the days are long and in many children’s songs of every race the great birds of heron like to peck, claw, and eat the dwarves they discover. Hammer axe swinging overhead he brings his weapon mightily at the spreading wings and downward swings, but misses at the mark, the steel swung arcs to pound the meadow with a thud. Skyward lifts the bird and talons kick him in his face to claw a brutal tear and standing there is Kylesa with heavy arrow laden bound with anger drawn and pointed close between his eyes to much surprise and wry command.
18 September 2013
Merlin 3:23 “Coerced Coexistence”
Merlin 3:23 “Coerced Coexistence”
~ @mjbanks
A heron in a pool, a sky in the morning, a great egret bathing on the mountain as the air grows brighter, near the peak before the dawn one side, and waking valley fords twixt rivers tother. As there was a female soldier unidentified, her arcane armor gathered in Sino’s bedchamber, its occupant Kylesa standing at the cave entrance, the opening a dark portal to a brightly beautiful blue sky as she stands a stark silhouette against it, in the opening of the ascending tunnel from the darkness. Sino walks thru the dark tunnels, from silent darkness the faint sounds of his boots shuffling, closer to the echo summoned. The leather of his boots laden with oil and stain unseen without light trod thru sediment shadowed for centuries, save of dragon fire from breaths asleep and churning ageless fire while dreaming, the fabric of his cloak toils by sound and sight unseen against the stagnant air and spiral shadow, trudging heavily forth, and in so much to Kylesa. Two silhouettes standing in the opening, outlines of themselves, faces hidden from tunnel airflow whispers within the mountain.
Kylesa: “There air is thin this high, but it is a beautiful sky.”
Sino: “What heaven’s beauty is without weakness to and fro?”
They have a bonding embrace and passionate kiss.
Kylesa: “The windy day is not the one for planning shelters.”
Sino: “My noose is lonely without Merlin’s throat.”
Kylesa: “Rarely is a fight continued when the sage is felled.”
Sino: “A soft answer turns away anger. Friend and foe assume the worst. The mouth that speaks not is sweet to hear. Thus I thee oblige into my favor, bade to deliver the son of Merlin, the Lugh Troy, to my grasp.”
Kylesa: “Youth sheds many skins.”
Sino: “Yes, but a secret it is not if known to three, it is not a matter of station, but of rises and falls from power.”
Kylesa: “Without his rancor, I will invoke his debt of justice to malice distressed.”
Sino: “Your actions will bring you to desires and dangers. Be his eyes and he will reflect your hunt for a victim.”
Kylesa: “Beauty will not make the pot boil.”
Sino: “There is only one way to reap death. Good blood ends in thirst, and the truths shall change truths so they shall wait. Hide your teeth until you can bite, do not go making and ending in the likes of a church, it will only set to turn him as ruthless as lions ignoring a crow, paint a marshal black, and he shall open the wrong cage.”
Kylesa: “Have you anything without skill?”
Sino: “Vouchsafe, to me, your success and together we will love what we have missed.”
With illicit arcane concerns in the darkness of the caves and her heart, she leaves him, stretching her hand and his by fingertips of longing, to the massive white bird her command, down it lays its head at water’s edge and lifts her with pillows bright, leaping into the air and swooning overfore.
In the darkness, there are shadows, in the shadows there is a noise of footstep, the Valkyrie aggressor a calm placating conspirator of Sino’s multifarious debris, the leather wrapping bootstraps and light colors cloth, hidden by the dim sight of dour and the thin light of hour. An Aesir guard, seeing in the absence of light with wings wound tight and standing at its edge, to stare at Sino’s silhouette and he to stare at the Valkyrie’s obsequious darken.
Lucifer: “Do you care on her?”
Sino: “As it would seem, in many ways I do.”
Lucifer: “What will you do if she betrays.”
Sino: “Then I will condemn her myself.”
Sino stares into the distance, perceiving failure in not demonstrating more robustness and courage before her, the challenge of relationship.
Lucifer: “There is rage in the air, the essence of war can be gathered from blood spilled in vain, you will these things, and you will get, us, these things, for our plan. Are you listening?”
Sino: “I listen with my heart, sick with bated breath.”
Lucifer: “My guidance doesn't come at a cheap price and my words shouldn't be taken lightly.”
Sino: “I will recover the pledged, taking unruly from the avowed, trust me, eyes will burn.”
Lucifer: “I serve the air you breathe, and defend your existence, should you stray, beset as a dog, obey my realm, and find paradise in empire, in a place everyone you know will rest in peace.”
The Valkyrie is to his side nearly and at his shoulder, quieter still to watch him and what he watches, and speak the words conspiratorial.
Sino stares down the mountainside from the cave opening, a personality trait, which he viewed as negative he has shunned brings disdains of the norms, and utmost, views it as direct opposite of the rewarded and encouragement he so often found in bloodshed. Hiding from the cloudless day, two devils determine themselves to conflict and cruelty to display and obtain rare examples of original sin to spite the worlds and their makers.
12 September 2013
03 September 2013
Yesteryore
In old news, I've begun putting M1 into a single transcript/file and giving it its first major edit, i.e. revising everything to the present-tense when possible, adding punctuation, minor actions' sequences tweeked, html bookmarks, pics, grammar adjustments, ambiguous plural verb, etc. To which I'll be self publishing on Amazon for sale, and so on, and so on. On the M3 front, in announcing the break I turned 10 chapters into about 25, and outlined the "plot bible" for the rest of the book, aiming for a fourth - those will be posting eventually, as I have cursory completed the first 5 of those chapters and write too much hack literature.
In recent news, my mom took an early retirement from teaching due to a disability called polymyositis, at the end of the previous schoolyear, and her classroom collection of things we brought home and put in the garage. Because of her inabilities, I was the one doing the unpacking and reorganizing, hoarders be damned, and I discovered the following documents; if there are more, we'll never know. These are the first three poems I ever wrote.
Imagine it's about eighteen (18) years ago, más o menos un año, and I'm in the seventh (7th) grade, 1995 I was 12-13 years old, and we'd just moved from Gary, IN, thank the gods, for mom's new teaching job. Some of you weren't even born at the time, go figure. The final semesters of her university she was in a student poetry club - weekly or monthly on evenings, a big do I would often fall asleep on the coats - that during I possibly had written one of these poems, and to socialize me (among other important reasons) began an after school poetry club at the junior high where she first taught English (which itself was transitioning to a 'middle-school', strive for the middle!, ha...). There was a girl there named after an angel, but whether I was forced to attend them or if these are love poems, is anyone's guess, being so long ago. It's obvious that the theme of these stories stayed with me, and I'll leave you all to decide how much.
I've uploaded scans of them, which you can click to enlarge, forgive the typos in the images. Sin mas entonces, some new old stuff.
_______________
(Untitled), or Supernatural
the power surged from his fingers
more and more
specters stare in amazement
the unstopable power ceasesthe fire in his belly begins to glow
a feirce beast emerges from within
only it is not a separate beast
it is only one
zaurus the one and only zaurus
this beast .....zaurus is not a separate monster
but one inside us all
he emerges holding the boy as a host
with one glance of his hand all specters are back at home
the zaurus slowly fades away
fades away to the deepest darkest binds of the soul
gone till the rage grows out again
gone till there is anger again
gone till there is hate
gone again
gone
_______________
The Dragon's Flame
The flames melting his armor to his skin
the pressure building
the heat extreme
Fair maiden can waitThe pain is with both
The monster's reptilian skin
smooth as silk
hard as rock
The blood of my friends
on the wall
Claws whiter than ivory tusks
Cries of relief from the maiden
My fellow knights come
Sword clangs come nearer
The hideous monster falls
its last breath is taken
his head lays down
his eyes close
his life ends
Are all beasts evil
Should he have to die
_______________
Not Knowing Till Morning
An angel flies over my head
Am I dead
no I'm not
But I'm not alive
am I
I might be unconcious
alone and suffering
or in a hospital with a terminal disease
but there is another place I could be
It's at home
dreaming
_______________
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