to do some serious networking in an atmosphere of complete frankness,
rather than to stage a media circus.

In any case, CPSR Roundtable, though interesting and intensely
valuable, was as nothing compared to the truly mind-boggling event that
transpired a mere month later.

#

"Computers, Freedom and Privacy." Four hundred people from every
conceivable corner of America's electronic community. As a science
fiction writer, I have been to some weird gigs in my day, but this
thing is truly BEYOND THE PALE. Even "Cyberthon," Point Foundation's
"Woodstock of Cyberspace" where Bay Area psychedelia collided headlong
with the emergent world of computerized virtual reality, was like a
Kiwanis Club gig compared to this astonishing do.

The "electronic community" had reached an apogee. Almost every
principal in this book is in attendance. Civil Libertarians. Computer
Cops. The Digital Underground. Even a few discreet telco people.
Colorcoded dots for lapel tags are distributed. Free Expression
issues. Law Enforcement. Computer Security. Privacy. Journalists.
Lawyers. Educators. Librarians. Programmers. Stylish punk-black
dots for the hackers and phone phreaks. Almost everyone here seems to
wear eight or nine dots, to have six or seven professional hats.

It is a community. Something like Lebanon perhaps, but a digital
nation. People who had feuded all year in the national press, people
who entertained the deepest suspicions of one another's motives and
ethics, are now in each others' laps. "Computers, Freedom and Privacy"
had every reason in the world to turn ugly, and yet except for small
irruptions of puzzling nonsense from the convention's token lunatic, a
surprising bonhomie reigned. CFP was like a wedding-party in which two
lovers, unstable bride and charlatan groom, tie the knot in a clearly
disastrous matrimony.

It is clear to both families--even to neighbors and random guests--
that this is not a workable relationship, and yet the young couple's
desperate attraction can brook no further delay. They simply cannot
help themselves. Crockery will fly, shrieks from their newlywed home
will wake the city block, divorce waits in the wings like a vulture
over the Kalahari, and yet this is a wedding, and there is going to be
a child from it. Tragedies end in death; comedies in marriage. The
Hacker Crackdown is ending in marriage. And there will be a child.

From the beginning, anomalies reign. J