Dwell on THAT.
I received the following summary from Patrick Grady earlier this evening. With some minor edits by myself here and John at Hogewash! we have agreed to jointly publish it. (Note: for those who saw this post come and go, that’s on me. I jumped the gun. Sorry.)
I also found this cool picture he posted on Twitter:
I flew into BWI late Thursday night. John was waiting at baggage claim for me. This had been arranged by an offer from a truly gracious host, and not by request. After a full day of work and half a night of travel, I was very, very grateful.
John drove me to the motel where I now sit typing this. If Bill knew how close I am…well, suffice it to say that I am glad this motel sits on top of a good sized hill next to the highway. I checked in, hung my suit, cursed myself for the one medical incidental item I forgot (guess all you want – I’m not saying), improvised a solution, and crashed hard.
Woke up this mornin’, got myself a gun… (sorry. Soprano’s reference). Went downstairs and availed myself of the free breakfast – the saving of the Hockey Parent, I’ll tell you. Went back up and prepped for battle.
I had a bit of free time, so I did a lttle work printing off more information that might come in handy later in the day. John arrived just before I finished. I packed up and we headed for Ellicott City. We sat down in the Einstein Bagels previously mentioned by John with – you guessed it – bagels and coffee. We did not spot any lurking photographers.
We discussed strategy and options. To tell the truth, I came here intent on pursuing all available legal options, both civil and criminal.
Next stop, the courthouse. We went to the clerk’s office and waited a few minutes in line. Howard County folks seem to have more patience than the functionaries in Cook County, IL. I suspect that may relate to workload volume.
I gave my name. In return, the lady said something like, “Come again?” I repeated it, and I told her I would like to file a Peace Order. I also had some paperwork from Cook County that I would like to have served. She asked against whom, and I told her. The look I got in return was a combination of sympathy and gratitude. She told me that Mr. Schmalfeldt had called and intended to come in later to drop the order. She needed to fetch a sheriff, pull the file and get her supervisor.
The supervisor arrived first. Her attitude and demeanor was similar to the previous clerk.
If I were a less observant fellow, a man who misses facial expressions, a man who doesn’t catch snippets of conversation from the other side of the glass and the occasional sidewise glance and roll of the eye, I might believe that the Howard County law enforcement apparatus had not developed a widely held opinion regarding the overall character of my opponent.
But I am. So I did.
After a brief discussion of the current status – there was the Temporary Peace Order pending a hearing in an hour or so in this building, and I have a Stalking No Contact order hearing pending in Cook County, IL, the supervisor told me she could not accept a Peace Order filing in Howard County when there was another similar order based on the same acts pending in another state. If both orders were granted, and violated in both jurisdictions, both or neither might decide to pursue prosecution. With just one order – “on YOUR home field, Mr, Grady” was never spoken, but I inferred it – prosecution would be more likely. Plus, she did say, anything that was filed here in Howard County would obligate me, if I wished to follow through fully, to return for hearings and for any trials where I would be a witness. $$$ Again, I inferred from this that the easier way for me was to continue to work through Cook County.
That made my decision for me. Even though I was in Howard County (and I have already read of the efficacy of the Maryland courts at work, which also was a factor), I was being strongly recommended, if not told outright, to go home and press my case on familiar ground – and good luck go with you.
Next, a sheriff’s deputy came to talk with me. He was very straightforward in serving me with the Peace Order paperwork. I told him I already had it, even though I had not been served by Cook County. He asked where I got it, and I told him I had it from Bill’s blog post on the subject.
A brief look of amazement passed across his face. Then he served me papers I already had.
John and I retired to the waiting area outside the courtrooms, setting up on the “high ground” with a view of the parking lot, the better to observe enemy movements, and avail ourselves of “good cover and clear fields of fire,” said John. We waited. Else what’s a waiting area for?
Courtroom 3 opened at 1:00 PM for the 1:15 hearing. We took seats at about five past. The bailiff began calling parties for check-in, and it was immediately clear by his butchering of the last name, that Schmalfeldt v. Grady was at the top of the docket call list. The bailiff called all petitioners, top to bottom (heh – he said “bottom”), followed by all respondents in the same way.
John suggested that the judge could move the case down the docket and call it again, giving Bill more time to appear with his sooper dooper Friday Surprise. We both doubted he would. John did not see any of the usual Team K suspects in evidence to indicate that outcome.
Judge Mary Reese entered the room at about 1:45, immediately apologizing for tardiness, as she was dealing with some issues with detectives in her chambers. Court came into session. She too went through a checklist of parties to ask how many witnesses each party intended to call. “Scham? Schammelfeldt?” The snide grin that popped onto my face was automatic. Whoops.
Going through the checklist, she moved two other cases to be heard and dismissed immediately by mutual consent of the parties. Easy-peasy.
She called “Scham-schammelfeldt vs. Grandy” and I went up, correcting my name. Without being given a chance to say another word, she dismissed the order for Petitioner Failure To Appear (IMO, the last two words being needless). It was over so quickly that the idea of a) mentioning this is the second PO the Mr. Schammelfeldt has filed against me this year, with the same result, and b) asking if I could recover fees and costs from petitioner by court order was dead before I could open my mouth.
John said he thought she may have recognized Petitoner’s name and been eager to be done with this waste of the court’s time.
Works for me.
On to Timbuktu, where I received an education in Maryland crab cakes (YUM!) and a Sam Adams Winter Lager.
It was very tasty, but in concert with the pharmacopeia in my body, we all had an enjoyable afternoon nap.
You know where.
(Editor’s Note: I received the following from Rick on Tuesday evening, with a note asking if I might consider posting it on his behalf. Originally planned as a comment, we agreed that it deserves its own space. I have made a couple of minor proofreading edits, but it is Rick’s material in all substance and particulars. -PK)
An Open Letter to Bill Schmalfeldt on the True History of Doxxing
Your recent ham-handed attempt at net sleuthing has bothered me enough that I just have to tell you a few things.
Do you know anything about the history of ‘doxxing?’ It started out on Usenet in the mid ’90s. There had been earlier occasions where someone or other had their identity revealed. There was one particular flame war in alt.culture.computers where folks on both sides were outed, but this bore little resemblance to what we now know as doxxing.
Then one day I saw an article working over an anonymous net vandal. It was from SPUTUM (“Subgenius Police, Usenet Tactical Unit, Mobile” – an activist bunch of SubGs with whom I had worked). They started from one morsel of info about this troll and produced a tour de force – listing his name, school attended with GPA, hobbies, car make, model and plate #, family and relationship data, employer and home phone numbers and addresses – with Mapquest directions! And they did it before Google.
This was the progenitor of the modern dox. I was impressed and – after I cleaned the coffee of my CRT – I set about to emulate them. I’ve always been careful to note that I didn’t invent the art form, but over the 35 or so takedowns I proceeded to write, it’s a simple fact that I’m the one who popularized it and brought it to a wider audience. For a while I was getting nearly a hundred fan emails a day about them.
Simply put – I feel responsible for what it’s become. I feel like YOU are my fault!
My targets were spammers, who were raping the shared resource of Usenet for personal profit, scammers with their chain letters and Nigerian uncles, and assorted miscreants like scientologists trying to use DOS attacks to stifle conversations. These were people attacking the community, and laughing behind the anonymity that they thought was impenetrable. Well, they thought wrong.
In other words, I considered myself one of the GOOD GUYS!
Anonymity itself was never a problem. I fully support the right to protect your identity. In fact, while I know who a few SPUTUM ‘units’ (agents) are, the real life identities of most (including Unit 0) are a complete mystery to me, which is as it should be.
I took pride in my work, and achieved a perfect accuracy record – over 35 doxxes without an error. In cases where there was any doubt whatsoever, I didn’t post. In fact I had decided that if I ever DID make a mistake, I would retire in shame.
So what has become of that ‘art form,’ which I was partly responsible for bringing to public awareness?
You. That’s how far it has fallen.
Let’s set aside your competence for a moment, and discuss your choice of targets. Two in particular really piss me off.
First, there is Patrick Grady. I saw the comment he left on your blog that set you off. It was a mildly negative, gentle suggestion that you might be feeling too sorry for yourself. I’d give it a 0.02 on the 1 – 10 flame scale. Real weak tea.
You went APESHIT. You doxxed him, his wife, his disabled kid and you actually tried to get the guy fired! In the history of overreaction, this one makes the Hall of Fame!
But Monday you outdid even that. You attempted to interrogate (with your insufferable attitude of entitlement) a guy whose only ‘crime’ was reading your tripe without using a proxy! You threatened a man’s family and their jobs because you didn’t like who this guy read and followed.
I would say you should be ashamed of both these cases. But I know you lack the capacity to feel that emotion.
No letter about your ‘doxxing’ activities would be complete without at least mentioning your skill level. In this review, recall that I’m speaking as an expert on the subject.
You suck. You suck so bad that people who just suck at an average level complained about being categorized with you and requested we find a new term just for you. You have no talent for the work and lack the technical skills required to be even mediocre. You are a drone doing Google lookups and drawing unfounded conclusions from ordinary inevitable coincidences. Your misunderstanding of simple logic is exceeded only by your laughable lack of facility with flowcharts.
But instead of recognizing your staggering incompetence and going away, you persist in your empty threats, misguided bluffs and childish insults.
Stop. Just stop. Breathing would be a top-end get, but failing that, stalking is what I’m specifically asking you to stop.
Stop making me ashamed of something I used to be proud of.
Note: it is unfortunate that when Google acquired the Usenet archive from Deja News, much was lost. This includes practically all the spammer takedowns (doxxings) I did. But in case anyone wishes to verify the claims I made, one of the later ones – a ‘Make Money Fast’ chain letter spammer workover (from ’99) survives. It can be found at this link.
It’s not really typical, since I was getting bored with it by then.
Another example of actual net detective work uncovering anonymous spammers is archived
here and has become something of a tutorial on tracking spammers.