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The Unix and Internet Fundamentals HOWTO
Eric Raymond
<esr@thyrsus.com>
Revision History
Revision 2.14 Revised by: esr
More minor corrections.
Revision 2.13 Revised by: esr
Minor corrections.
Revision 2.12 2010-07-31 Revised by: esr
Add Farsi translation link. Note that ISA is dead.
Revision 1.0 1998-10-29 Revised by: esr
Initial revision.
This document describes the working basics of PC-class computers,
Unix-like operating systems, and the Internet in non-technical
language.
________________________________________________________________
Table of Contents
1. Introduction
1.1. Purpose of this document
1.2. New versions of this document
1.3. Feedback and corrections
1.4. Related resources
2. Basic anatomy of your computer
3. What happens when you switch on a computer?
4. What happens when you log in?
5. What happens when you run programs after boot time?
6. How do input devices and interrupts work?
7. How does my computer do several things at once?
8. How does my computer keep processes from stepping on each other?
8.1. Virtual memory: the simple version
8.2. Virtual memory: the detailed version
8.3. The Memory Management Unit
9. How does my computer store things in memory?
9.1. Numbers
9.2. Characters
10. How does my computer store things on disk?
10.1. Low-level disk and file system structure
10.2. File names and directories
10.3. Mount points
10.4. How a file gets looked up
10.5. File ownership, permissions and security
10.6. How things can go wrong
11. How do computer languages work?
11.1. Compiled languages
11.2. Interpreted languages
11.3. P-code languages
12. How does the Internet work?
12.1. Names and locations
12.2. The Domain Name System
12.3. Packets and routers
12.4. TCP and IP
12.5. HTTP, an application protocol
13. To Learn More
1. Introduction
1.1. Purpose of this document
This document is intended to help Linux and Internet users who are
learning by doing. While this is a great way to acquire specific
skills, sometimes it leaves peculiar gaps in one's knowledge of the
basics -- gaps which can make it hard to think creatively or
troubleshoot effectively, from lack of a good mental model of what is
really going on.
I'll try to describe in clear, simple language how it all works. The
presentation will be tuned for people using Unix or Linux on PC-class
machines. Nevertheless, I'll usually refer simply to `Unix' here, as
most of what I will describe is constant across different machines
and across Unix variants.
I'm going to assume you're using an Intel PC. The details differ
slightly if you're running an PowerPC or some other kind of computer,
but the basic concepts are the same.
I won't repeat things, so you'll have to pay attention, but that also
means you'll learn from every word you read. It's a good idea to just
skim when you first read this; you should come back and reread it a
few times after you've digested what you have learned.
This is an evolving document. I intend to keep adding sections in
response to user feedback, so you should come back and review it
periodically.
________________________________________________________________
1.2. New versions of this document
New versions of the Unix and Internet Fundamentals HOWTO will be
periodically posted to [news:comp.os.linux.help] comp.os.linux.help
and [news:comp.os.linux.announce] comp.os.linux.announce and
[news:news.answers] news.answers. They will also be uploaded to
various websites, including the Linux Documentation Project home
page.
You can view the latest version of this on the World Wide Web via the
URL
[http://www.tldp.org/HOWTO/Unix-and-Internet-Fundamentals-HOWTO/index
.html]
http:http://www.tldp.org/HOWTO/Unix-and-Internet-Fundamentals-HOWTO/i
ndex.html.
This document has been translated into: the following languages:
[http://mehdi.wordpress.com/unix-and-internet-fundamentals-persian/]
Farsi, [http://theta.uoks.uj.edu.pl/~gszczepa/gszczepa/esr1iso2.htm]
Polish
[http://es.tldp.org/Manuales-LuCAS/doc-fundamentos-unix-internet/fund
amentos.html ] Spanish
[http://docs.comu.edu.tr/howto/fundementals-howto.html] Turkish
________________________________________________________________
1.3. Feedback and corrections
If you have questions or comments about this document, please feel
free to mail Eric S. Raymond, at [mailto:esr@thyrsus.com]
esr@thyrsus.com. I welcome any suggestions or criticisms. I
especially welcome hyperlinks to more detailed explanations of
individual concepts. If you find a mistake with this document, please
let me know so I can correct it in the next version. Thanks.
________________________________________________________________
1.4. Related resources
If you're reading this in order to learn how to hack, you should also
read the [http://www.catb.org/~esr/faqs/hacker-howto.html] How To
Become A Hacker FAQ. It has links to some other useful resources.
________________________________________________________________
2. Basic anatomy of your computer
Your computer has a processor chip inside it that does the actual
computing. It has internal memory (what DOS/Windows people call "RAM"
and Unix people often call "core"; the Unix term is a folk memory
from when RAM consisted of ferrite-core donuts). The processor and
memory live on the motherboard, which is the heart of your computer.
Your computer has a screen and keyboard. It has hard drives and an
optical CD-ROM (or maybe a DVD drive) and maybe a floppy disk. Some
of these devices are run by controller cards that plug into the
motherboard and help the computer drive them; others are run by
specialized chipsets directly on the motherboard that fulfill the
same function as a controller card. Your keyboard is too simple to
need a separate card; the controller is built into the keyboard
chassis itself.
We'll go into some of the details of how these devices work later.
For now, here are a few basic things to keep in mind about how they
work together:
All the parts of your computer inside the case are connected by a
bus. Physically, the bus is what you plug your controller cards into
(the video card, the disk controller, a sound card if you have one).
The bus is the data highway between your processor, your screen, your
disk, and everything else.
(If you've seen references to `ISA', `PCI', and `PCMCIA' in
connection with PCs and have not understood them, these are bus
types. ISA is, except in minor details, the same bus that was used on
IBM's original PCs in 1980; it is no longer used. PCI, for Peripheral
Component Interconnection, is the bus used on most modern PCs, and on
modern Macintoshes as well. PCMCIA is a variant of ISA with smaller
physical connectors used on laptop computers.)
The processor, which makes everything else go, can't actually see any
of the other pieces directly; it has to talk to them over the bus.
The only other subsystem that it has really fast, immediate access to
is memory (the core). In order for programs to run, then, they have
to be in core (in memory).
When your computer reads a program or data off the disk, what
actually happens is that the processor uses the bus to send a disk
read request to your disk controller. Some time later the disk
controller uses the bus to signal the processor that it has read the
data and put it in a certain location in memory. The processor can
then use the bus to look at that data.
Your keyboard and screen also communicate with the processor via the
bus, but in simpler ways. We'll discuss those later on. For now, you
know enough to understand what happens when you turn on your
computer.
________________________________________________________________
3. What happens when you switch on a computer?
A computer without a program running is just an inert hunk of
electronics. The first thing a computer has to do when it is turned
on is start up a special program called an operating system. The
operating system's job is to help other computer programs to work by
handling the messy details of controlling the computer's hardware.
The process of bringing up the operating system is called booting
(originally this was bootstrapping and alluded to the process of
pulling yourself up "by your bootstraps"). Your computer knows how to
boot because instructions for booting are built into one of its
chips, the BIOS (or Basic Input/Output System) chip.
The BIOS chip tells it to look in a fixed place, usually on the
lowest-numbered hard disk (the boot disk) for a special program
called a boot loader (under Linux the boot loader is called Grub or
LILO). The boot loader is pulled into memory and started. The boot
loader's job is to start the real operating system.
The loader does this by looking for a kernel, loading it into memory,
and starting it. If you Linux and see "LILO" on the screen followed
by a bunch of dots, it is loading the kernel. (Each dot means it has
loaded another disk block of kernel code.)
(You may wonder why the BIOS doesn't load the kernel directly -- why
the two-step process with the boot loader? Well, the BIOS isn't very
smart. In fact it's very stupid, and Linux doesn't use it at all
after boot time. It was originally written for primitive 8-bit PCs
with tiny disks, and literally can't access enough of the disk to
load the kernel directly. The boot loader step also lets you start
one of several operating systems off different places on your disk,
in the unlikely event that Unix isn't good enough for you.)
Once the kernel starts, it has to look around, find the rest of the
hardware, and get ready to run programs. It does this by poking not
at ordinary memory locations but rather at I/O ports -- special bus
addresses that are likely to have device controller cards listening
at them for commands. The kernel doesn't poke at random; it has a lot
of built-in knowledge about what it's likely to find where, and how
controllers will respond if they're present. This process is called
autoprobing.
You may or may not be able to see any of this going on. Back when
Unix systems used text consoles, you'd see boot messages scroll by on
your screen as the system started up. Nowawadays, Unixes often hide
the boot messages behind a graphical splash screen. You may be able
to see them by switching to a text console view with the key
combination Ctrl-Shift-F1. If this works, you should be able to
switch back to the graphical boot screen with a different Ctrl-Shift
sequence; try F7, F8, and F9.
Most of the messages emitted boot time are the kernel autoprobing
your hardware through the I/O ports, figuring out what it has
available to it and adapting itself to your machine. The Linux kernel
is extremely good at this, better than most other Unixes and much
better than DOS or Windows. In fact, many Linux old-timers think the
cleverness of Linux's boot-time probes (which made it relatively easy
to install) was a major reason it broke out of the pack of free-Unix
experiments to attract a critical mass of users.
But getting the kernel fully loaded and running isn't the end of the
boot process; it's just the first stage (sometimes called run level
1). After this first stage, the kernel hands control to a special
process called `init' which spawns several housekeeping processes.
(Some recent Linuxes use a different program called `upstart' that
does similar things)
The init process's first job is usually to check to make sure your
disks are OK. Disk file systems are fragile things; if they've been
damaged by a hardware failure or a sudden power outage, there are
good reasons to take recovery steps before your Unix is all the way
up. We'll go into some of this later on when we talk about how file
systems can go wrong.
Init's next step is to start several daemons. A daemon is a program
like a print spooler, a mail listener or a WWW server that lurks in
the background, waiting for things to do. These special programs
often have to coordinate several requests that could conflict. They
are daemons because it's often easier to write one program that runs
constantly and knows about all requests than it would be to try to
make sure that a flock of copies (each processing one request and all
running at the same time) don't step on each other. The particular
collection of daemons your system starts may vary, but will almost
always include a print spooler (a gatekeeper daemon for your
printer).
The next step is to prepare for users. Init starts a copy of a
program called getty to watch your screen and keyboard (and maybe
more copies to watch dial-in serial ports). Actually, nowadays it
usually starts multiple copies of getty so you have several (usually
7 or 8) virtual consoles, with your screen and keyboards connected to
one of them at a time. But you likely won't see any of these, because
one of your consoles will be taken over by the X server (about which
more in a bit).
We're not done yet. The next step is to start up various daemons that
support networking and other services. The most important of these is
your X server. X is a daemon that manages your display, keyboard, and
mouse. Its main job is to produce the color pixel graphics you
normally see on your screen.
When the X server comes up, during the last part of your machine's
boot process, it effectively takes over the hardware from whatever
virtual console was previously in control. That's when you'll see a
graphical login screen, produced for you by a program called a
display manager.
________________________________________________________________
4. What happens when you log in?
When you log in, you identify yourself to the computer. On modern
Unixes you will usually do this through a graphical display manager.
But it's possible to switch virtual consoles with a Ctrl-Shift key
sequence and do a textual login, too. In that case you go through the
getty instance watching that console tto call the program login.
You identify yourself to the display manager or login with a login
name and password. That login name is looked up in a file called
/etc/passwd, which is a sequence of lines each describing a user
account.
One of these fields is an encrypted version of the account password
(sometimes the encrypted fields are actually kept in a second
/etc/shadow file with tighter permissions; this makes password
cracking harder). What you enter as an account password is encrypted
in exactly the same way, and the login program checks to see if they
match. The security of this method depends on the fact that, while
it's easy to go from your clear password to the encrypted version,
the reverse is very hard. Thus, even if someone can see the encrypted
version of your password, they can't use your account. (It also means
that if you forget your password, there's no way to recover it, only
to change it to something else you choose.)
Once you have successfully logged in, you get all the privileges
associated with the individual account you are using. You may also be
recognized as part of a group. A group is a named collection of users
set up by the system administrator. Groups can have privileges
independently of their members' privileges. A user can be a member of
multiple groups. (For details about how Unix privileges work, see the
section below on permissions.)
(Note that although you will normally refer to users and groups by
name, they are actually stored internally as numeric IDs. The
password file maps your account name to a user ID; the /etc/group
file maps group names to numeric group IDs. Commands that deal with
accounts and groups do the translation automatically.)
Your account entry also contains your home directory, the place in
the Unix file system where your personal files will live. Finally,
your account entry also sets your shell, the command interpreter that
login will start up to accept your commmands.
What happens after you have successfully logged in depends on how you
did it. On a text console, login will launch a shell and you'll be
off and running. If you logged in through a display manager, the X
server will bring up your graphical desktop and you will be able to
run programs from it -- either through the menus, or through desktop
icons, or through a terminal emulator running a shell.
________________________________________________________________
5. What happens when you run programs after boot time?
After boot time and before you run a program, you can think of your
computer as containing a zoo of processes that are all waiting for
something to do. They're all waiting on events. An event can be you
pressing a key or moving a mouse. Or, if your machine is hooked to a
network, an event can be a data packet coming in over that network.
The kernel is one of these processes. It's a special one, because it
controls when the other user processes can run, and it is normally
the only process with direct access to the machine's hardware. In
fact, user processes have to make requests to the kernel when they
want to get keyboard input, write to your screen, read from or write
to disk, or do just about anything other than crunching bits in
memory. These requests are known as system calls.
Normally all I/O goes through the kernel so it can schedule the
operations and prevent processes from stepping on each other. A few
special user processes are allowed to slide around the kernel,
usually by being given direct access to I/O ports. X servers are the
most common example of this.
You will run programs in one of two ways: through your X server or
through a shell. Often, you'll actually do both, because you'll start
a terminal emulator that mimics an old-fashioned textual console,
giving you a shell to run programs from. I'll describe what happens
when you do that, then I'll return to what happens when you run a
program through an X menu or desktop icon.
The shell is called the shell because it wraps around and hides the
operating system kernel. It's an important feature of Unix that the
shell and kernel are separate programs communicating through a small
set of system calls. This makes it possible for there to be multiple
shells, suiting different tastes in interfaces.
The normal shell gives you the `$' prompt that you see after logging
in (unless you've customized it to be something else). We won't talk
about shell syntax and the easy things you can see on the screen
here; instead we'll take a look behind the scenes at what's happening
from the computer's point of view.
The shell is just a user process, and not a particularly special one.
It waits on your keystrokes, listening (through the kernel) to the
keyboard I/O port. As the kernel sees them, it echoes them to your
virtual console or X terminal emulator. When the kernel sees an
`Enter' it passes your line of text to the shell. The shell tries to
interpret those keystrokes as commands.
Let's say you type `ls' and Enter to invoke the Unix directory
lister. The shell applies its built-in rules to figure out that you
want to run the executable command in the file /bin/ls. It makes a
system call asking the kernel to start /bin/ls as a new child process
and give it access to the screen and keyboard through the kernel.
Then the shell goes to sleep, waiting for ls to finish.
When /bin/ls is done, it tells the kernel it's finished by issuing an
exit system call. The kernel then wakes up the shell and tells it it
can continue running. The shell issues another prompt and waits for
another line of input.
Other things may be going on while your `ls' is executing, however
(we'll have to suppose that you're listing a very long directory).
You might switch to another virtual console, log in there, and start
a game of Quake, for example. Or, suppose you're hooked up to the
Internet. Your machine might be sending or receiving mail while
/bin/ls runs.
When you're running programs through the X server rather than a shell
(that is, by choosing an application from a pull-down menu, or
double-clicking a desktop icon), any of several programs associated
with your X server can behave like a shell and launch the program.
I'm going to gloss over the details here because they're both
variable and unimportant. The key point is that the X server, unlike
a normal shell, doesn't go to sleep while the client program is
running -- instead, it sits between you and the client, passing your
mouse clicks and keypresses to it and fulfilling its requests to
point pixels on your display.
________________________________________________________________
6. How do input devices and interrupts work?
Your keyboard is a very simple input device; simple because it
generates small amounts of data very slowly (by a computer's
standards). When you press or release a key, that event is signalled
up the keyboard cable to raise a hardware interrupt.
It's the operating system's job to watch for such interrupts. For
each possible kind of interrupt, there will be an interrupt handler,
a part of the operating system that stashes away any data associated
with them (like your keypress/keyrelease value) until it can be
processed.
What the interrupt handler for your keyboard actually does is post
the key value into a system area near the bottom of memory. There, it
will be available for inspection when the operating system passes
control to whichever program is currently supposed to be reading from
the keyboard.
More complex input devices like disk or network cards work in a
similar way. Earlier, I referred to a disk controller using the bus
to signal that a disk request has been fulfilled. What actually
happens is that the disk raises an interrupt. The disk interrupt
handler then copies the retrieved data into memory, for later use by
the program that made the request.
Every kind of interrupt has an associated priority level.
Lower-priority interrupts (like keyboard events) have to wait on
higher-priority interrupts (like clock ticks or disk events). Unix is
designed to give high priority to the kinds of events that need to be
processed rapidly in order to keep the machine's response smooth.
In your operating system's boot-time messages, you may see references
to IRQ numbers. You may be aware that one of the common ways to
misconfigure hardware is to have two different devices try to use the
same IRQ, without understanding exactly why.
Here's the answer. IRQ is short for "Interrupt Request". The
operating system needs to know at startup time which numbered
interrupts each hardware device will use, so it can associate the
proper handlers with each one. If two different devices try use the
same IRQ, interrupts will sometimes get dispatched to the wrong
handler. This will usually at least lock up the device, and can
sometimes confuse the OS badly enough that it will flake out or
crash.
________________________________________________________________
7. How does my computer do several things at once?
It doesn't, actually. Computers can only do one task (or process) at
a time. But a computer can change tasks very rapidly, and fool slow
human beings into thinking it's doing several things at once. This is
called timesharing.
One of the kernel's jobs is to manage timesharing. It has a part
called the scheduler which keeps information inside itself about all
the other (non-kernel) processes in your zoo. Every 1/60th of a
second, a timer goes off in the kernel, generating a clock interrupt.
The scheduler stops whatever process is currently running, suspends
it in place, and hands control to another process.
1/60th of a second may not sound like a lot of time. But on today's
microprocessors it's enough to run tens of thousands of machine
instructions, which can do a great deal of work. So even if you have
many processes, each one can accomplish quite a bit in each of its
timeslices.
In practice, a program may not get its entire timeslice. If an
interrupt comes in from an I/O device, the kernel effectively stops
the current task, runs the interrupt handler, and then returns to the
current task. A storm of high-priority interrupts can squeeze out
normal processing; this misbehavior is called thrashing and is
fortunately very hard to induce under modern Unixes.
In fact, the speed of programs is only very seldom limited by the
amount of machine time they can get (there are a few exceptions to
this rule, such as sound or 3-D graphics generation). Much more
often, delays are caused when the program has to wait on data from a
disk drive or network connection.
An operating system that can routinely support many simultaneous
processes is called "multitasking". The Unix family of operating
systems was designed from the ground up for multitasking and is very
good at it -- much more effective than Windows or the old Mac OS,
which both had multitasking bolted into them as an afterthought and
do it rather poorly. Efficient, reliable multitasking is a large part
of what makes Linux superior for networking, communications, and Web
service.
________________________________________________________________
8. How does my computer keep processes from stepping on each other?
The kernel's scheduler takes care of dividing processes in time. Your
operating system also has to divide them in space, so that processes
can't step on each others' working memory. Even if you assume that
all programs are trying to be cooperative, you don't want a bug in
one of them to be able to corrupt others. The things your operating
system does to solve this problem are called memory management.
Each process in your zoo needs its own area of memory, as a place to
run its code from and keep variables and results in. You can think of
this set as consisting of a read-only code segment (containing the
process's instructions) and a writeable data segment (containing all
the process's variable storage). The data segment is truly unique to
each process, but if two processes are running the same code Unix
automatically arranges for them to share a single code segment as an
efficiency measure.
________________________________________________________________
8.1. Virtual memory: the simple version
Efficiency is important, because memory is expensive. Sometimes you
don't have enough to hold the entirety of all the programs the
machine is running, especially if you are using a large program like
an X server. To get around this, Unix uses a technique called virtual
memory. It doesn't try to hold all the code and data for a process in
memory. Instead, it keeps around only a relatively small working set;
the rest of the process's state is left in a special swap space area
on your hard disk.
Note that in the past, that "Sometimes" last paragraph ago was
"Almost always" -- the size of memory was typically small relative to
the size of running programs, so swapping was frequent. Memory is far
less expensive nowadays and even low-end machines have quite a lot of
it. On modern single-user machines with 64MB of memory and up, it's
possible to run X and a typical mix of jobs without ever swapping
after they're initially loaded into core.
________________________________________________________________
8.2. Virtual memory: the detailed version
Actually, the last section oversimplified things a bit. Yes, programs
see most of your memory as one big flat bank of addresses bigger than
physical memory, and disk swapping is used to maintain that illusion.
But your hardware actually has no fewer than five different kinds of
memory in it, and the differences between them can matter a good deal
when programs have to be tuned for maximum speed. To really
understand what goes on in your machine, you should learn how all of
them work.
The five kinds of memory are these: processor registers, internal (or
on-chip) cache, external (or off-chip) cache, main memory, and disk.
And the reason there are so many kinds is simple: speed costs money.
I have listed these kinds of memory in increasing order of access
time and decreasing order of cost. Register memory is the fastest and
most expensive and can be random-accessed about a billion times a
second, while disk is the slowest and cheapest and can do about 100
random accesses a second.
Here's a full list reflecting early-2000 speeds for a typical desktop
machine. While speed and capacity will go up and prices will drop,
you can expect these ratios to remain fairly constant -- and it's
those ratios that shape the memory hierarchy.
Disk
Size: 13000MB Accesses: 100KB/sec
Main memory
Size: 256MB Accesses: 100M/sec
External cache
Size: 512KB Accesses: 250M/sec
Internal Cache
Size: 32KB Accesses: 500M/sec
Processor
Size: 28 bytes Accesses: 1000M/sec
We can't build everything out of the fastest kinds of memory. It
would be way too expensive -- and even if it weren't, fast memory is
volatile. That is, it loses its marbles when the power goes off.
Thus, computers have to have hard disks or other kinds of
non-volatile storage that retains data when the power goes off. And
there's a huge mismatch between the speed of processors and the speed
of disks. The middle three levels of the memory hierarchy (internal
cache, external cache, and main memory) basically exist to bridge
that gap.
Linux and other Unixes have a feature called virtual memory. What
this means is that the operating system behaves as though it has much
more main memory than it actually does. Your actual physical main
memory behaves like a set of windows or caches on a much larger
"virtual" memory space, most of which at any given time is actually
stored on disk in a special zone called the swap area. Out of sight
of user programs, the OS is moving blocks of data (called "pages")
between memory and disk to maintain this illusion. The end result is
that your virtual memory is much larger but not too much slower than
real memory.
How much slower virtual memory is than physical depends on how well
the operating system's swapping algorithms match the way your
programs use virtual memory. Fortunately, memory reads and writes
that are close together in time also tend to cluster in memory space.
This tendency is called locality, or more formally locality of
reference -- and it's a good thing. If memory references jumped
around virtual space at random, you'd typically have to do a disk
read and write for each new reference and virtual memory would be as
slow as a disk. But because programs do actually exhibit strong
locality, your operating system can do relatively few swaps per
reference.
It's been found by experience that the most effective method for a
broad class of memory-usage patterns is very simple; it's called LRU
or the "least recently used" algorithm. The virtual-memory system
grabs disk blocks into its working set as it needs them. When it runs
out of physical memory for the working set, it dumps the
least-recently-used block. All Unixes, and most other virtual-memory
operating systems, use minor variations on LRU.
Virtual memory is the first link in the bridge between disk and
processor speeds. It's explicitly managed by the OS. But there is
still a major gap between the speed of physical main memory and the
speed at which a processor can access its register memory. The
external and internal caches address this, using a technique similar
to virtual memory as I've described it.
Just as the physical main memory behaves like a set of windows or
caches on the disk's swap area, the external cache acts as windows on
main memory. External cache is faster (250M accesses per sec, rather
than 100M) and smaller. The hardware (specifically, your computer's
memory controller) does the LRU thing in the external cache on blocks
of data fetched from the main memory. For historical reasons, the
unit of cache swapping is called a line rather than a page.
But we're not done. The internal cache gives us the final step-up in
effective speed by caching portions of the external cache. It is
faster and smaller yet -- in fact, it lives right on the processor
chip.
If you want to make your programs really fast, it's useful to know
these details. Your programs get faster when they have stronger
locality, because that makes the caching work better. The easiest way
to make programs fast is therefore to make them small. If a program
isn't slowed down by lots of disk I/O or waits on network events, it
will usually run at the speed of the smallest cache that it will fit
inside.
If you can't make your whole program small, some effort to tune the
speed-critical portions so they have stronger locality can pay off.
Details on techniques for doing such tuning are beyond the scope of
this tutorial; by the time you need them, you'll be intimate enough
with some compiler to figure out many of them yourself.
________________________________________________________________
8.3. The Memory Management Unit
Even when you have enough physical core to avoid swapping, the part
of the operating system called the memory manager still has important
work to do. It has to make sure that programs can only alter their
own data segments -- that is, prevent erroneous or malicious code in
one program from garbaging the data in another. To do this, it keeps
a table of data and code segments. The table is updated whenever a
process either requests more memory or releases memory (the latter
usually when it exits).
This table is used to pass commands to a specialized part of the
underlying hardware called an MMU or memory management unit. Modern
processor chips have MMUs built right onto them. The MMU has the
special ability to put fences around areas of memory, so an
out-of-bound reference will be refused and cause a special interrupt
to be raised.
If you ever see a Unix message that says "Segmentation fault", "core
dumped" or something similar, this is exactly what has happened; an
attempt by the running program to access memory (core) outside its
segment has raised a fatal interrupt. This indicates a bug in the
program code; the core dump it leaves behind is diagnostic
information intended to help a programmer track it down.
There is another aspect to protecting processes from each other
besides segregating the memory they access. You also want to be able
to control their file accesses so a buggy or malicious program can't
corrupt critical pieces of the system. This is why Unix has file
permissions which we'll discuss later.
________________________________________________________________
9. How does my computer store things in memory?
You probably know that everything on a computer is stored as strings
of bits (binary digits; you can think of them as lots of little
on-off switches). Here we'll explain how those bits are used to
represent the letters and numbers that your computer is crunching.
Before we can go into this, you need to understand about the word
size of your computer. The word size is the computer's preferred size
for moving units of information around; technically it's the width of
your processor's registers, which are the holding areas your
processor uses to do arithmetic and logical calculations. When people
write about computers having bit sizes (calling them, say, "32-bit"
or "64-bit" computers), this is what they mean.
Most computers now have a word size of 64 bits. In the recent past
(early 2000s) many PCs had 32-bit words. The old 286 machines back in
the 1980s had a word size of 16. Old-style mainframes often had
36-bit words.
The computer views your memory as a sequence of words numbered from
zero up to some large value dependent on your memory size. That value
is limited by your word size, which is why programs on older machines
like 286s had to go through painful contortions to address large
amounts of memory. I won't describe them here; they still give older
programmers nightmares.
________________________________________________________________
9.1. Numbers
Integer numbers are represented as either words or pairs of words,
depending on your processor's word size. One 64-bit machine word is
the most common integer representation.
Integer arithmetic is close to but not actually mathematical
base-two. The low-order bit is 1, next 2, then 4 and so forth as in
pure binary. But signed numbers are represented in twos-complement
notation. The highest-order bit is a sign bit which makes the
quantity negative, and every negative number can be obtained from the
corresponding positive value by inverting all the bits and adding
one. This is why integers on a 64-bit machine have the range -2^63 to
2^63 - 1. That 64th bit is being used for sign; 0 means a positive
number or zero, 1 a negative number.
Some computer languages give you access to unsigned arithmetic which
is straight base 2 with zero and positive numbers only.
Most processors and some languages can do operations in
floating-point numbers (this capability is built into all recent
processor chips). Floating-point numbers give you a much wider range
of values than integers and let you express fractions. The ways in
which this is done vary and are rather too complicated to discuss in
detail here, but the general idea is much like so-called `scientific
notation', where one might write (say) 1.234 * 10^23; the encoding of
the number is split into a mantissa (1.234) and the exponent part
(23) for the power-of-ten multiplier (which means the number
multiplied out would have 20 zeros on it, 23 minus the three decimal
places).
________________________________________________________________
9.2. Characters
Characters are normally represented as strings of seven bits each in
an encoding called ASCII (American Standard Code for Information
Interchange). On modern machines, each of the 128 ASCII characters is
the low seven bits of an octet or 8-bit byte; octets are packed into
memory words so that (for example) a six-character string only takes
up one 64-bit memory word. For an ASCII code chart, type `man 7
ascii' at your Unix prompt.
The preceding paragraph was misleading in two ways. The minor one is
that the term `octet' is formally correct but seldom actually used;
most people refer to an octet as byte and expect bytes to be eight
bits long. Strictly speaking, the term `byte' is more general; there
used to be, for example, 36-bit machines with 9-bit bytes (though
there probably never will be again).
The major one is that not all the world uses ASCII. In fact, much of
the world can't -- ASCII, while fine for American English, lacks many
accented and other special characters needed by users of other
languages. Even British English has trouble with the lack of a
pound-currency sign.
There have been several attempts to fix this problem. All use the
extra high bit that ASCII doesn't, making it the low half of a
256-character set. The most widely-used of these is the so-called
`Latin-1' character set (more formally called ISO 8859-1). This is
the default character set for Linux, older versions of HTML, and X.
Microsoft Windows uses a mutant version of Latin-1 that adds a bunch
of characters such as right and left double quotes in places proper
Latin-1 leaves unassigned for historical reasons (for a scathing
account of the trouble this causes, see the
[http://www.fourmilab.ch/webtools/demoroniser/] demoroniser page).
Latin-1 handles western European languages, including English,
French, German, Spanish, Italian, Dutch, Norwegian, Swedish, Danish,
and Icelandic. However, this isn't good enough either, and as a
result there is a whole series of Latin-2 through -9 character sets
to handle things like Greek, Arabic, Hebrew, Esperanto, and
Serbo-Croatian. For details, see the
[http://czyborra.com/charsets/iso8859.html] ISO alphabet soup page.
The ultimate solution is a huge standard called Unicode (and its
identical twin ISO/IEC 10646-1:1993). Unicode is identical to Latin-1
in its lowest 256 slots. Above these in 16-bit space it includes
Greek, Cyrillic, Armenian, Hebrew, Arabic, Devanagari, Bengali,
Gurmukhi, Gujarati, Oriya, Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Malayalam, Thai,
Lao, Georgian, Tibetan, Japanese Kana, the complete set of modern
Korean Hangul, and a unified set of Chinese/Japanese/Korean (CJK)
ideographs. For details, see the [http://www.unicode.org/] Unicode
Home Page. XML and XHTML use this character set.
Recent versions of Linux use an encoding of Unicode called UTF-8. In
UTF, characters 0-127 are ASCII. Characters 128-255 are used only in
sequences of 2 through 4 bytes that identify non-ASCII characters.
________________________________________________________________
10. How does my computer store things on disk?
When you look at a hard disk under Unix, you see a tree of named
directories and files. Normally you won't need to look any deeper
than that, but it does become useful to know what's going on
underneath if you have a disk crash and need to try to salvage files.
Unfortunately, there's no good way to describe disk organization from
the file level downwards, so I'll have to describe it from the
hardware up.
________________________________________________________________
10.1. Low-level disk and file system structure
The surface area of your disk, where it stores data, is divided up
something like a dartboard -- into circular tracks which are then
pie-sliced into sectors. Because tracks near the outer edge have more
area than those close to the spindle at the center of the disk, the
outer tracks have more sector slices in them than the inner ones.
Each sector (or disk block) has the same size, which under modern
Unixes is generally 1 binary K (1024 8-bit bytes). Each disk block
has a unique address or disk block number.
Unix divides the disk into disk partitions. Each partition is a
continuous span of blocks that's used separately from any other
partition, either as a file system or as swap space. The original
reasons for partitions had to do with crash recovery in a world of
much slower and more error-prone disks; the boundaries between them
reduce the fraction of your disk likely to become inaccessible or
corrupted by a random bad spot on the disk. Nowadays, it's more
important that partitions can be declared read-only (preventing an
intruder from modifying critical system files) or shared over a
network through various means we won't discuss here. The
lowest-numbered partition on a disk is often treated specially, as a
boot partition where you can put a kernel to be booted.
Each partition is either swap space (used to implement virtual
memory) or a file system used to hold files. Swap-space partitions
are just treated as a linear sequence of blocks. File systems, on the
other hand, need a way to map file names to sequences of disk blocks.
Because files grow, shrink, and change over time, a file's data
blocks will not be a linear sequence but may be scattered all over
its partition (from wherever the operating system can find a free
block when it needs one). This scattering effect is called
fragmentation.
________________________________________________________________
10.2. File names and directories
Within each file system, the mapping from names to blocks is handled
through a structure called an i-node. There's a pool of these things
near the "bottom" (lowest-numbered blocks) of each file system (the
very lowest ones are used for housekeeping and labeling purposes we
won't describe here). Each i-node describes one file. File data
blocks (including directories) live above the i-nodes (in
higher-numbered blocks).
Every i-node contains a list of the disk block numbers in the file it
describes. (Actually this is a half-truth, only correct for small
files, but the rest of the details aren't important here.) Note that
the i-node does not contain the name of the file.
Names of files live in directory structures. A directory structure
just maps names to i-node numbers. This is why, in Unix, a file can
have multiple true names (or hard links); they're just multiple
directory entries that happen to point to the same i-node.
________________________________________________________________
10.3. Mount points
In the simplest case, your entire Unix file system lives in just one
disk partition. While you'll see this arrangement on some small
personal Unix systems, it's unusual. More typical is for it to be
spread across several disk partitions, possibly on different physical
disks. So, for example, your system may have one small partition
where the kernel lives, a slightly larger one where OS utilities
live, and a much bigger one where user home directories live.
The only partition you'll have access to immediately after system
boot is your root partition, which is (almost always) the one you
booted from. It holds the root directory of the file system, the top
node from which everything else hangs.
The other partitions in the system have to be attached to this root
in order for your entire, multiple-partition file system to be
accessible. About midway through the boot process, your Unix will
make these non-root partitions accessible. It will mount each one
onto a directory on the root partition.
For example, if you have a Unix directory called /usr, it is probably
a mount point to a partition that contains many programs installed
with your Unix but not required during initial boot.
________________________________________________________________
10.4. How a file gets looked up
Now we can look at the file system from the top down. When you open a
file (such as, say, /home/esr/WWW/ldp/fundamentals.xml) here is what
happens:
Your kernel starts at the root of your Unix file system (in the root
partition). It looks for a directory there called `home'. Usually
`home' is a mount point to a large user partition elsewhere, so it
will go there. In the top-level directory structure of that user
partition, it will look for a entry called `esr' and extract an
i-node number. It will go to that i-node, notice that its associated
file data blocks are a directory structure, and look up `WWW'.
Extracting that i-node, it will go to the corresponding subdirectory
and look up `ldp'. That will take it to yet another directory i-node.
Opening that one, it will find an i-node number for
`fundamentals.xml'. That i-node is not a directory, but instead holds
the list of disk blocks associated with the file.
________________________________________________________________
10.5. File ownership, permissions and security
To keep programs from accidentally or maliciously stepping on data
they shouldn't, Unix has permission features. These were originally
designed to support timesharing by protecting multiple users on the
same machine from each other, back in the days when Unix ran mainly
on expensive shared minicomputers.
In order to understand file permissions, you need to recall the
description of users and groups in the section What happens when you
log in?. Each file has an owning user and an owning group. These are
initially those of the file's creator; they can be changed with the
programs chown(1) and chgrp(1).
The basic permissions that can be associated with a file are `read'
(permission to read data from it), `write' (permission to modify it)
and `execute' (permission to run it as a program). Each file has
three sets of permissions; one for its owning user, one for any user
in its owning group, and one for everyone else. The `privileges' you
get when you log in are just the ability to do read, write, and
execute on those files for which the permission bits match your user
ID or one of the groups you are in, or files that have been made
accessible to the world.
To see how these may interact and how Unix displays them, let's look
at some file listings on a hypothetical Unix system. Here's one:
snark:~$ ls -l notes
-rw-r--r-- 1 esr users 2993 Jun 17 11:00 notes
This is an ordinary data file. The listing tells us that it's owned
by the user `esr' and was created with the owning group `users'.
Probably the machine we're on puts every ordinary user in this group
by default; other groups you commonly see on timesharing machines are
`staff', `admin', or `wheel' (for obvious reasons, groups are not
very important on single-user workstations or PCs). Your Unix may use
a different default group, perhaps one named after your user ID.
The string `-rw-r--r--' represents the permission bits for the file.
The very first dash is the position for the directory bit; it would
show `d' if the file were a directory, or would show `l' if the file
were a symbolic link. After that, the first three places are user
permissions, the second three group permissions, and the third are
permissions for others (often called `world' permissions). On this
file, the owning user `esr' may read or write the file, other people
in the `users' group may read it, and everybody else in the world may
read it. This is a pretty typical set of permissions for an ordinary
data file.
Now let's look at a file with very different permissions. This file
is GCC, the GNU C compiler.
snark:~$ ls -l /usr/bin/gcc
-rwxr-xr-x 3 root bin 64796 Mar 21 16:41 /usr/bin/gcc
This file belongs to a user called `root' and a group called `bin';
it can be written (modified) only by root, but read or executed by
anyone. This is a typical ownership and set of permissions for a
pre-installed system command. The `bin' group exists on some Unixes
to group together system commands (the name is a historical relic,
short for `binary'). Your Unix might use a `root' group instead (not
quite the same as the `root' user!).
The `root' user is the conventional name for numeric user ID 0, a
special, privileged account that can override all privileges. Root
access is useful but dangerous; a typing mistake while you're logged
in as root can clobber critical system files that the same command
executed from an ordinary user account could not touch.
Because the root account is so powerful, access to it should be
guarded very carefully. Your root password is the single most
critical piece of security information on your system, and it is what
any crackers and intruders who ever come after you will be trying to
get.
About passwords: Don't write them down -- and don't pick a passwords
that can easily be guessed, like the first name of your
girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse. This is an astonishingly common bad
practice that helps crackers no end. In general, don't pick any word
in the dictionary; there are programs called dictionary crackers that
look for likely passwords by running through word lists of common
choices. A good technique is to pick a combination consisting of a
word, a digit, and another word, such as `shark6cider' or `jump3joy';
that will make the search space too large for a dictionary cracker.
Don't use these examples, though -- crackers might expect that after
reading this document and put them in their dictionaries.
Now let's look at a third case:
snark:~$ ls -ld ~
drwxr-xr-x 89 esr users 9216 Jun 27 11:29 /home2/esr
snark:~$
This file is a directory (note the `d' in the first permissions
slot). We see that it can be written only by esr, but read and
executed by anybody else.
Read permission gives you the ability to list the directory -- that
is, to see the names of files and directories it contains. Write
permission gives you the ability to create and delete files in the
directory. If you remember that the directory includes a list of the
names of the files and subdirectories it contains, these rules will
make sense.
Execute permission on a directory means you can get through the
directory to open the files and directories below it. In effect, it
gives you permission to access the i-nodes in the directory. A
directory with execute completely turned off would be useless.
Occasionally you'll see a directory that is world-executable but not
world-readable; this means a random user can get to files and
directories beneath it, but only by knowing their exact names (the
directory cannot be listed).
It's important to remember that read, write, or execute permission on
a directory is independent of the permissions on the files and
directories beneath. In particular, write access on a directory means
you can create new files or delete existing files there, but does not
automatically give you write access to existing files.
Finally, let's look at the permissions of the login program itself.
snark:~$ ls -l /bin/login
-rwsr-xr-x 1 root bin 20164 Apr 17 12:57 /bin/login
This has the permissions we'd expect for a system command -- except
for that `s' where the owner-execute bit ought to be. This is the
visible manifestation of a special permission called the
`set-user-id' or setuid bit.
The setuid bit is normally attached to programs that need to give
ordinary users the privileges of root, but in a controlled way. When
it is set on an executable program, you get the privileges of the
owner of that program file while the program is running on your
behalf, whether or not they match your own.
Like the root account itself, setuid programs are useful but
dangerous. Anyone who can subvert or modify a setuid program owned by
root can use it to spawn a shell with root privileges. For this
reason, opening a file to write it automatically turns off its setuid
bit on most Unixes. Many attacks on Unix security try to exploit bugs
in setuid programs in order to subvert them. Security-conscious
system administrators are therefore extra-careful about these
programs and reluctant to install new ones.
There are a couple of important details we glossed over when
discussing permissions above; namely, how the owning group and
permissions are assigned when a file or directory is first created.
The group is an issue because users can be members of multiple
groups, but one of them (specified in the user's /etc/passwd entry)
is the user's default group and will normally own files created by
the user.
The story with initial permission bits is a little more complicated.
A program that creates a file will normally specify the permissions
it is to start with. But these will be modified by a variable in the
user's environment called the umask. The umask specifies which
permission bits to turn off when creating a file; the most common
value, and the default on most systems, is -------w- or 002, which
turns off the world-write bit. See the documentation of the umask
command on your shell's manual page for details.
Initial directory group is also a bit complicated. On some Unixes a
new directory gets the default group of the creating user (this in
the System V convention); on others, it gets the owning group of the
parent directory in which it's created (this is the BSD convention).
On some modern Unixes, including Linux, the latter behavior can be
selected by setting the set-group-ID on the directory (chmod g+s).
________________________________________________________________
10.6. How things can go wrong
Earlier it was hinted that file systems can be fragile things. Now we
know that to get to a file you have to hopscotch through what may be
an arbitrarily long chain of directory and i-node references. Now
suppose your hard disk develops a bad spot?
If you're lucky, it will only trash some file data. If you're
unlucky, it could corrupt a directory structure or i-node number and
leave an entire subtree of your system hanging in limbo -- or, worse,
result in a corrupted structure that points multiple ways at the same
disk block or i-node. Such corruption can be spread by normal file
operations, trashing data that was not in the original bad spot.
Fortunately, this kind of contingency has become quite uncommon as
disk hardware has become more reliable. Still, it means that your
Unix will want to integrity-check the file system periodically to
make sure nothing is amiss. Modern Unixes do a fast integrity check
on each partition at boot time, just before mounting it. Every few
reboots they'll do a much more thorough check that takes a few
minutes longer.
If all of this sounds like Unix is terribly complex and
failure-prone, it may be reassuring to know that these boot-time
checks typically catch and correct normal problems before they become
really disastrous. Other operating systems don't have these
facilities, which speeds up booting a bit but can leave you much more
seriously screwed when attempting to recover by hand (and that's
assuming you have a copy of Norton Utilities or whatever in the first
place...).
One of the trends in current Unix designs is journalling file
systems. These arrange traffic to the disk so that it's guaranteed to
be in a consistent state that can be recovered when the system comes
back up. This will speed up the boot-time integrity check a lot.
________________________________________________________________
11. How do computer languages work?
We've already discussed how programs are run. Every program
ultimately has to execute as a stream of bytes that are instructions
in your computer's machine language. But human beings don't deal with
machine language very well; doing so has become a rare, black art
even among hackers.
Almost all Unix code except a small amount of direct
hardware-interface support in the kernel itself is nowadays written
in a high-level language. (The `high-level' in this term is a
historical relic meant to distinguish these from `low-level'
assembler languages, which are basically thin wrappers around machine
code.)
There are several different kinds of high-level languages. In order
to talk about these, you'll find it useful to bear in mind that the
source code of a program (the human-created, editable version) has to
go through some kind of translation into machine code that the
machine can actually run.
________________________________________________________________
11.1. Compiled languages
The most conventional kind of language is a compiled language.
Compiled languages get translated into runnable files of binary
machine code by a special program called (logically enough) a
compiler. Once the binary has been generated, you can run it directly
without looking at the source code again. (Most software is delivered
as compiled binaries made from code you don't see.)
Compiled languages tend to give excellent performance and have the
most complete access to the OS, but also to be difficult to program
in.
C, the language in which Unix itself is written, is by far the most
important of these (with its variant C++). FORTRAN is another
compiled language still used among engineers and scientists but years
older and much more primitive. In the Unix world no other compiled
languages are in mainstream use. Outside it, COBOL is very widely
used for financial and business software.
There used to be many other compiler languages, but most of them have
either gone extinct or are strictly research tools. If you are a new
Unix developer using a compiled language, it is overwhelmingly likely
to be C or C++.
________________________________________________________________
11.2. Interpreted languages
An interpreted language depends on an interpreter program that reads
the source code and translates it on the fly into computations and
system calls. The source has to be re-interpreted (and the
interpreter present) each time the code is executed.
Interpreted languages tend to be slower than compiled languages, and
often have limited access to the underlying operating system and
hardware. On the other hand, they tend to be easier to program and
more forgiving of coding errors than compiled languages.
Many Unix utilities, including the shell and bc(1) and sed(1) and
awk(1), are effectively small interpreted languages. BASICs are
usually interpreted. So is Tcl. Historically, the most important
interpretive language has been LISP (a major improvement over most of
its successors). Today, Unix shells and the Lisp that lives inside
the Emacs editor are probably the most important pure interpreted
languages.
________________________________________________________________
11.3. P-code languages
Since 1990 a kind of hybrid language that uses both compilation and
interpretation has become increasingly important. P-code languages
are like compiled languages in that the source is translated to a
compact binary form which is what you actually execute, but that form
is not machine code. Instead it's pseudocode (or p-code), which is
usually a lot simpler but more powerful than a real machine language.
When you run the program, you interpret the p-code.
P-code can run nearly as fast as a compiled binary (p-code
interpreters can be made quite simple, small and speedy). But p-code
languages can keep the flexibility and power of a good interpreter.
Important p-code languages include Python, Perl, and Java.
________________________________________________________________
12. How does the Internet work?
To help you understand how the Internet works, we'll look at the
things that happen when you do a typical Internet operation --
pointing a browser at the front page of this document at its home on
the Web at the Linux Documentation Project. This document is
http://www.tldp.org/HOWTO/Unix-and-Internet-Fundamentals-HOWTO/index.html
which means it lives in the file
HOWTO/Unix-and-Internet-Fundamentals-HOWTO/index.html under the World
Wide Web export directory of the host www.tldp.org.
________________________________________________________________
12.1. Names and locations
The first thing your browser has to do is to establish a network
connection to the machine where the document lives. To do that, it
first has to find the network location of the host www.tldp.org
(`host' is short for `host machine' or `network host'; www.tldp.org
is a typical hostname). The corresponding location is actually a
number called an IP address (we'll explain the `IP' part of this term
later).
To do this, your browser queries a program called a name server. The
name server may live on your machine, but it's more likely to run on
a service machine that yours talks to. When you sign up with an ISP,
part of your setup procedure will almost certainly involve telling
your Internet software the IP address of a nameserver on the ISP's
network.
The name servers on different machines talk to each other, exchanging
and keeping up to date all the information needed to resolve
hostnames (map them to IP addresses). Your nameserver may query three
or four different sites across the network in the process of
resolving www.tldp.org, but this usually happens very quickly (as in
less than a second). We'll look at how nameservers detail in the next
section.
The nameserver will tell your browser that www.tldp.org's IP address
is 152.19.254.81; knowing this, your machine will be able to exchange
bits with www.tldp.org directly.
________________________________________________________________
12.2. The Domain Name System
The whole network of programs and databases that cooperates to
translate hostnames to IP addresses is called `DNS' (Domain Name
System). When you see references to a `DNS server', that means what
we just called a nameserver. Now I'll explain how the overall system
works.
Internet hostnames are composed of parts separated by dots. A domain
is a collection of machines that share a common name suffix. Domains
can live inside other domains. For example, the machine www.tldp.org
lives in the .tldp.org subdomain of the .org domain.
Each domain is defined by an authoritative name server that knows the
IP addresses of the other machines in the domain. The authoritative
(or `primary') name server may have backups in case it goes down; if
you see references to a secondary name server or (`secondary DNS')
it's talking about one of those. These secondaries typically refresh
their information from their primaries every few hours, so a change
made to the hostname-to-IP mapping on the primary will automatically
be propagated.
Now here's the important part. The nameservers for a domain do not
have to know the locations of all the machines in other domains
(including their own subdomains); they only have to know the location
of the nameservers. In our example, the authoritative name server for
the .org domain knows the IP address of the nameserver for .tldp.org
but not the address of all the other machines in .tldp.org.
The domains in the DNS system are arranged like a big inverted tree.
At the top are the root servers. Everybody knows the IP addresses of
the root servers; they're wired into your DNS software. The root
servers know the IP addresses of the nameservers for the top-level
domains like .com and .org, but not the addresses of machines inside
those domains. Each top-level domain server knows where the
nameservers for the domains directly beneath it are, and so forth.
DNS is carefully designed so that each machine can get away with the
minimum amount of knowledge it needs to have about the shape of the
tree, and local changes to subtrees can be made simply by changing
one authoritative server's database of name-to-IP-address mappings.
When you query for the IP address of www.tldp.org, what actually
happens is this: First, your nameserver asks a root server to tell it
where it can find a nameserver for .org. Once it knows that, it then
asks the .org server to tell it the IP address of a .tldp.org
nameserver. Once it has that, it asks the .tldp.org nameserver to
tell it the address of the host www.tldp.org.
Most of the time, your nameserver doesn't actually have to work that
hard. Nameservers do a lot of cacheing; when yours resolves a
hostname, it keeps the association with the resulting IP address
around in memory for a while. This is why, when you surf to a new
website, you'll usually only see a message from your browser about
"Looking up" the host for the first page you fetch. Eventually the
name-to-address mapping expires and your DNS has to re-query -- this
is important so you don't have invalid information hanging around
forever when a hostname changes addresses. Your cached IP address for
a site is also thrown out if the host is unreachable.
________________________________________________________________
12.3. Packets and routers
What the browser wants to do is send a command to the Web server on
www.tldp.org that looks like this:
GET /LDP/HOWTO/Fundamentals.html HTTP/1.0
Here's how that happens. The command is made into a packet, a block
of bits like a telegram that is wrapped with three important things;
the source address (the IP address of your machine), the destination
address (152.19.254.81), and a service number or port number (80, in
this case) that indicates that it's a World Wide Web request.
Your machine then ships the packet down the wire (your connection to
your ISP, or local network) until it gets to a specialized machine
called a router. The router has a map of the Internet in its memory
-- not always a complete one, but one that completely describes your
network neighborhood and knows how to get to the routers for other
neighborhoods on the Internet.
Your packet may pass through several routers on the way to its
destination. Routers are smart. They watch how long it takes for
other routers to acknowledge having received a packet. They also use
that information to direct traffic over fast links. They use it to
notice when another router (or a cable) have dropped off the network,
and compensate if possible by finding another route.
There's an urban legend that the Internet was designed to survive
nuclear war. This is not true, but the Internet's design is extremely
good at getting reliable performance out of flaky hardware in an
uncertain world. This is directly due to the fact that its
intelligence is distributed through thousands of routers rather than
concentrated in a few massive and vulnerable switches (like the phone
network). This means that failures tend to be well localized and the
network can route around them.
Once your packet gets to its destination machine, that machine uses
the service number to feed the packet to the web server. The web
server can tell where to reply to by looking at the command packet's
source IP address. When the web server returns this document, it will
be broken up into a number of packets. The size of the packets will
vary according to the transmission media in the network and the type
of service.
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12.4. TCP and IP
To understand how multiple-packet transmissions are handled, you need
to know that the Internet actually uses two protocols, stacked one on
top of the other.
The lower level, IP (Internet Protocol), is responsible for labeling
individual packets with the source address and destination address of
two computers exchanging information over a network. For example,
when you access http://www.tldp.org, the packets you send will have
your computer's IP address, such as 192.168.1.101, and the IP address
of the www.tldp.org computer, 152.2.210.81. These addresses work in
much the same way that your home address works when someone sends you
a letter. The post office can read the address and determine where
you are and how best to route the letter to you, much like a router
does for Internet traffic.
The upper level, TCP (Transmission Control Protocol), gives you
reliability. When two machines negotiate a TCP connection (which they
do using IP), the receiver knows to send acknowledgements of the
packets it sees back to the sender. If the sender doesn't see an
acknowledgement for a packet within some timeout period, it resends
that packet. Furthermore, the sender gives each TCP packet a sequence
number, which the receiver can use to reassemble packets in case they
show up out of order. (This can easily happen if network links go up
or down during a connection.)
TCP/IP packets also contain a checksum to enable detection of data
corrupted by bad links. (The checksum is computed from the rest of
the packet in such a way that if either the rest of the packet or the
checksum is corrupted, redoing the computation and comparing is very
likely to indicate an error.) So, from the point of view of anyone
using TCP/IP and nameservers, it looks like a reliable way to pass
streams of bytes between hostname/service-number pairs. People who
write network protocols almost never have to think about all the
packetizing, packet reassembly, error checking, checksumming, and
retransmission that goes on below that level.
________________________________________________________________
12.5. HTTP, an application protocol
Now let's get back to our example. Web browsers and servers speak an
application protocol that runs on top of TCP/IP, using it simply as a
way to pass strings of bytes back and forth. This protocol is called
HTTP (Hyper-Text Transfer Protocol) and we've already seen one
command in it -- the GET shown above.
When the GET command goes to www.tldp.org's webserver with service
number 80, it will be dispatched to a server daemon listening on port
80. Most Internet services are implemented by server daemons that do
nothing but wait on ports, watching for and executing incoming
commands.
If the design of the Internet has one overall rule, it's that all the
parts should be as simple and human-accessible as possible. HTTP, and
its relatives (like the Simple Mail Transfer Protocol, SMTP, that is
used to move electronic mail between hosts) tend to use simple
printable-text commands that end with a carriage-return/line feed.
This is marginally inefficient; in some circumstances you could get
more speed by using a tightly-coded binary protocol. But experience
has shown that the benefits of having commands be easy for human
beings to describe and understand outweigh any marginal gain in
efficiency that you might get at the cost of making things tricky and
opaque.
Therefore, what the server daemon ships back to you via TCP/IP is
also text. The beginning of the response will look something like
this (a few headers have been suppressed):
HTTP/1.1 200 OK
Date: Sat, 10 Oct 1998 18:43:35 GMT
Server: Apache/1.2.6 Red Hat
Last-Modified: Thu, 27 Aug 1998 17:55:15 GMT
Content-Length: 2982
Content-Type: text/html
These headers will be followed by a blank line and the text of the
web page (after which the connection is dropped). Your browser just
displays that page. The headers tell it how (in particular, the
Content-Type header tells it the returned data is really HTML).
________________________________________________________________
13. To Learn More
There is a Reading List HOWTO that lists books you can read to learn
more about the topics we have touched on here. You might also want to
read the How To Become A Hacker document.