Daily Beast writer Kevin Poulsen, who was previously banned from the Internet after being implicated in numerous crimes including espionage against the United States, has doxxed the man who shared the viral video of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, in which her vocal pitch was lowered and the video was purposely slowed to make her seem even less articulate than usual.
The man, who Big League Politics will not name out of respect for his privacy, is a manual laborer and African American who runs a series of Facebook pages and websites promoting President Donald Trump and conservative policies. His name and identity were not public information prior to Poulsen, a former black hat hacker who was banned from using the Internet from the 1990s until the early 2000s, revealed it in his Daily Beast article.
Poulsen revealed the man’s employment history, where he has lived and is currently residing, a run-in with the law and outstanding California arrest warrant, and his first and last name. Prior to Poulson’s article, this information was all not publicly available, meaning this episode may fit the legal definition of doxxing.
Ironically, the video creator’s life story pales in comparison to Poulsen’s exposed by noted Michael “CPL” Avenatti critic Caroline Court, known on Twitter as @beyondreasdoubt.
From the now archived Theta.com:
In November 1989, Poulsen was indicted on 19 counts of conspiracy, fraud, wiretapping and money laundering. If convicted, the charges could have brought him up to 37 years in jail. But Poulsen did not go quietly. He fled, and was beyond the reach of law enforcement for 17 months.
Poulsen had burrowed deep into the giant switching networks of Pacific Bell, exploring and exploiting nearly every element of its computers. His forays led to a now-infamous incident with KIIS-FM in Los Angeles. Each week, the station ran the “Win a Porsche by Friday” contest, with a $50,000 Porsche given to the 102nd caller after a particular sequence of songs announced earlier in the day was played.
On the morning of June 1, 1990, the trio of songs was played on the air. Businessmen, students, housewives and contest fanatics jammed the lines with auto-dialers and car phones. But Poulsen had a different method. He and his associates, stationed at their computers, seized control of the station’s 25 telephone lines, blocking out all calls but their own. Then he dialed the 102nd call — and later collected his Porsche 944.
But that wasn’t all. He allegedly wiretapped the intimate phone calls of a Hollywood actress, conspired to steal classified military orders, cracked an Army computer and snooped into an FBI investigation of former Philippine president Ferdinand Marcos — all while working on national security matters.
Poulsen was found guilty and imprisoned for five years for his crimes, and was then banned from the Internet until 2004, when he persuaded his probation officer to allow him access to the world wide web.
Poulsen revealed as much when writing for Exile:
Eighteen months after my release, with one year of probation remaining, my probation officer was ready to let me loose on the Net. But the proposal came with a caveat: I had to find an Internet service provider that would agree to monitor my actions and give my PO access to the traffic reports on demand.
Yes! I was in. I now knew enough about the Net from the mainstream media to suppose that it was as rife with surveillance and snooping as with hardcore porn and illegal gambling. I thought it would be a breeze.
Considering now, 15 years later, Poulsen used his Internet privileges to dox a private individual, one must wonder if his former probation officer is scratching his head and contemplating whether he made the correct decision.