Re: Thank you for these.

It was forbidden so you read it anyway. Bravo! This reminds me of an event in my youth. I dramatize the story below just a bit but the basics of the event happened. Please note the quotes at the end.

Years ago, when computers were huge, processing speeds were measured in the kilohertz, online storage was measured in the megabytes, and a 64 bit processor cost several hundred thousands of dollars, my classmate and I were approaching our graduation. We were proud of our newly acquired computer skills and wanted to use them.

One of the TAs called, Gimwinkle, wheres Wolfman? The Dean wants you both.
J.W. and I walked down the corridor speculating why we were being summoned. Well, they could be asking us if we know who broke in. Thats the only think possible.
I thought for a few steps. No, I think were busted.
How? The note didnt say anything.
I dont know, J.W. I cant think of a reason for them to call us. What worries me is that its both you and me. There is no connection. Yet were both being called in.
Admit nothing. No matter what.
We both walked into the secretarys office, announcing ourselves. She showed us the Deans open door.
We were directed to two chairs pulled uncomfortably close to the Deans enormous blank desk. He began slowly, almost in a whisper, I want to hear it from you two. Not how. I want to know why.
I sat silent while J.W. mumbled, Pardon?
One word: Payroll.
I knew then that we were busted. I just couldnt figure out how. We were meticulous in our invasion.
The Dean figured that we were still not convinced that he knew it was us. He picked up a green-bar printout and read, Have a nice day, Mrs. Baxter.
Silence. Yes, we had crafted that line. J.W. was about to ask the meaning of it when the Dean threw the printout towards us. Please, Mr. Wolfman, dont screw this up. I dont want to hear garbage. You will waste my time.
Silence again. We waited motionless as the Dean lit a cigarette. (Yes, it was that long ago!)
I finally asked, What gave us away?
Mr. Gimwinkle, in all my years here, weve never had a student with GPAs such as you and Mr. Wolfman carry. In those years, weve never had anyone make it into the schools payroll system. You do the math.
My thoughts were to the punishment phase of this meeting. I began thinking of the laws which we broke but, in the era this occurred in, there was no such thing as hacking or electronic intrusion. Yet, that was what we had committed. Innocent of malice; guilty of misdemeanor. Since each college or university sets their own policy regarding misconduct (and expulsion as a punishment), it was matter the code of conduct would set forth and I had not read one bit of it. I dont think J.W. did, either.
The Dean began slowly, Ive had most of the morning to ponder your actions. On the one hand, I must protect this institution in several ways. On the other hand, I must educate. But to do that, I must know what thinking processes you both used to get yourselves sitting in those chairs. So, before I make my decision, I will ask once more. Why?
Im sure J.W. was about to say something about how fun it had been but Im just as sure that, had he done so, we would have been kicked out the door a second or two later.
I began quickly, It was something Mr. Witherspoon said in class. Witherspoon was our computer science lecturer. The Dean frowned but stared at me, bidding me to continue.
We were discussing network security and the discussion turned to our system here. He indicated that the schools partition was on the same computer that the students use and that it was protected by password. The password for us is 6 characters which gives rise to a very large number of permutations and, as was claimed, practically impossible to try all of them to break into another students partition. We assumed that the administrations partition was
The Dean interrupted me, I did not ask how you did it. I asked why.
I was getting to that, I replied. I waited.
Okay, but I dont want to know how the clock works, just tell me what time it is.
Mr. Witherspoon said that it was not practical to break the password.
So you two decided to prove him wrong?
Yes.
A challenge.
Yes.
The Dean stared out the window for a moment. J.W. glanced at me as if to ask if Id gone crazy. We waited painfully for the shoe to drop.
Again, speaking ever so softly, the Dean pronounced sentence. What you did was unethical. You did harm to this institution by your simple opening of a locked door and stepping inside. Even had you not left a footprint on the floor, your simple entry would have been offensive. However, your actions were not dishonorable, just inappropriate. We urge our students to explore their world and this you have done. I cannot honestly terminate your relationship with us, he paused. And I wont, provided that you assure me that you will never hurt this institution again. Agreed?
We both nodded our yes.
The Dean put out his cigarette and peered over his bifocals, Now, Mr. Gimwinkle, you may explain your procedure.
J.W. smiled as did I, Shotgun.
Shotgun?
We used what J.W. calls the Shotgun search. Its theoretically not any faster than a sequential one, but it does not follow a sequential pattern that the password module traps for. So, we backset the system clock to hide each of our randomly generated password submissions and allowed a brute force search until the right one hit. We thought it would take a couple of weeks so we logged each submission run and ran them only while we were physically present.
How long did it take?
J.W. replied, Three hours, eighteen minutes, forty three seconds. Total, in three runs.
The Dean stood and gestured to the door, Gentlemen, I cannot stress this enough: Dont do this again.
As J.W. and I left, I turned to the Dean and answered, It is not necessary. Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then do it. We did.
The Dean smiled, Ah. He also wrote, Being intelligent is not a felony. But most societies evaluate it as at least a misdemeanor. Please, dont do it again.

We never did.