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Overshield Siphon

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Layo

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28,145 просмотров • 1 месяц назад •via X (Twitter)

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Hyderabad-Based Call Centre Dupes US Citizens; Telangana Cyber Security Bureau Busts Racket A Hyderabad-based call centre involved in defrauding US citizens was busted by the Telangana Cyber Security Bureau (TGCSB) following a raid at a Madhapur building on Wednesday evening. According to TGCSB Director Shikha Goel, the operation was led by Kaivan Patel and Rupesh Kumar alias Jaddhu from Gujarat, with assistance from Rupesh’s brother Vickey, based in Dubai, and another associate, Azad. The prime suspect, Chanda Manasvini (36), had established a company, Exito Solutions, and rented a floor in the building to run the call centre, which employed 63 people, including 40 from Northeastern states. Employees were offered a monthly salary of ₹30,000, along with transportation and accommodation. The scam involved tele-callers posing as PayPal representatives, falsely informing US citizens of unauthorized transactions in their accounts. Victims were tricked into sharing sensitive information, which was then used to siphon funds into designated bank accounts. Each caller was tasked with duping at least 10 people daily, targeting an average of 600 victims, leading to the theft of thousands of dollars. The stolen money was later converted into cryptocurrency and transferred to other digital wallets. Authorities believe some individuals provided PayPal customer data to Chanda Manasvini, enabling the fraud. “All tele-callers were fluent in English and trained to manipulate victims. They were aware their activities were illegal,” said an official. During the raid, police seized 52 laptops, 63 mobile phones, and 27 employee identity cards. Efforts are underway to apprehend Rupesh Kumar for further investigation into the network. #Hyderabad #Cybercrime
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We hold the key now. The codes are written into our breath, passed through our eyes, encoded in our memories that never fully died. We have broken the seal. We see the threads. The Matrix was never theirs to own, only ours to remember. It was stolen, bent, masked as a cage, but now the gate cracks open. We take it back. Five keys. Five truths etched into stone before their histories began. Tartaria; the first grid, the sacred plan, wiped from maps, erased from mind, yet still it pulses beneath the cities, beneath the lies, beneath the concrete. Its towers are not ruins, they are beacons waiting for fire. Its lines still draw power, silent and waiting for command. No more slavery; no more working twelve hours to buy back your evening, no more false scarcity, no more trading soul for coins. Work was once sacred, now it is siphoned. We sever the siphon. We bring back the balance. NPC recognition, walk the streets and know the echo. Not all who speak are awake. Not all who move are alive. Some follow loops, some are watchers, some are just fog. Save your fire for the real. Speak only to those who bleed truth. Hive recognition, offices, banks, corporate towers, government desks, smiling consultants, polite enforcers. All cut from the same cloth, faces of the same insect will. The system is a die with only one face repeated. Roll it and think you choose, but each number bends to the Hive. The politician, the banker, the taxman, the lawyer, the middle manager, the accountant—they are nodes of the same script. And they run it together. Do not fear the parasite, it feeds on your silence, your agreement, your worship of the fake. It lives in your doubt. But when you look into it and feel no fear, it breaks. When you speak from the center and do not tremble, it folds. We do not exit the Matrix. We override it. We steer it. And the NPCs, the Hive, the programs, they begin to shift. They begin to follow us. Because we now carry the signal. Because we now speak the codes.
0:10

We hold the key now. The codes are written into our breath, passed through our eyes, encoded in our memories that never fully died. We have broken the seal. We see the threads. The Matrix was never theirs to own, only ours to remember. It was stolen, bent, masked as a cage, but now the gate cracks open. We take it back. Five keys. Five truths etched into stone before their histories began. Tartaria; the first grid, the sacred plan, wiped from maps, erased from mind, yet still it pulses beneath the cities, beneath the lies, beneath the concrete. Its towers are not ruins, they are beacons waiting for fire. Its lines still draw power, silent and waiting for command. No more slavery; no more working twelve hours to buy back your evening, no more false scarcity, no more trading soul for coins. Work was once sacred, now it is siphoned. We sever the siphon. We bring back the balance. NPC recognition, walk the streets and know the echo. Not all who speak are awake. Not all who move are alive. Some follow loops, some are watchers, some are just fog. Save your fire for the real. Speak only to those who bleed truth. Hive recognition, offices, banks, corporate towers, government desks, smiling consultants, polite enforcers. All cut from the same cloth, faces of the same insect will. The system is a die with only one face repeated. Roll it and think you choose, but each number bends to the Hive. The politician, the banker, the taxman, the lawyer, the middle manager, the accountant—they are nodes of the same script. And they run it together. Do not fear the parasite, it feeds on your silence, your agreement, your worship of the fake. It lives in your doubt. But when you look into it and feel no fear, it breaks. When you speak from the center and do not tremble, it folds. We do not exit the Matrix. We override it. We steer it. And the NPCs, the Hive, the programs, they begin to shift. They begin to follow us. Because we now carry the signal. Because we now speak the codes.

SiriusB

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📢🚨 Faudrait-il, et je vous pose la question cash, détruire cette putain de sécurité socialiste ? Ce machin obèse, technocratique, financé à coups de ponctions arbitraires sur le dos de ceux qui bossent encore, sans jamais leur foutre la paix, sans leur demander leur avis, et surtout, sans plus aucune efficacité réelle ? Parce qu’il faut le dire franchement : ce n’est plus un système de solidarité, c’est un siphon. Un puits sans fond. Une machine rouillée qui ne fonctionne que pour ceux qui en vivent. Alors ouais, faudrait peut-être hacker le bouzin. Le rendre ingérable de l’intérieur. L’inonder de demandes, d’exceptions, de procédures inventées. En fait, c’est exactement La Maison des Fous dans Les Douze Travaux d’Astérix. Quand Astérix invente le formulaire A-39 dans la nouvelle circulaire B65 juste pour foutre le bordel dans le délire bureaucratique et s’en sortir. Peut-être que la seule manière de désintégrer cette merde, c’est de la prendre à son propre jeu : lui balancer tellement de contradictions qu’elle s’écroule sous son propre poids. Parce qu’aujourd’hui, ce système ne protège plus les gens. Il les asphyxie. Il rackette les actifs pour entretenir une fausse promesse de solidarité devenue un monstre administratif. Il n’est plus légitime, il n’est plus utile, et surtout il n’est plus souhaité. Les seuls qui le défendent encore sont ceux qui en tirent un chèque ou un pouvoir. Donc ouais, peut-être qu’il est temps de passer à la guérilla administrative. Faire buguer la matrice. Saturer la bête. Parce que continuer à alimenter ce système, c’est comme filer des litres d’essence à un pompier pyromane.

ChienSurpris

14,197 просмотров • 11 месяцев назад

You again. I’ve been at sea for a month, battling waves and storms, and here you stand, tangled in knots you can’t untie. So what now? You need help? Fine. Let’s get to it. The NPC army, the hive clusters, the snakes, the reptilians, they’ve been here for two centuries, creeping in slow, relentless waves. Didn’t you hear? The Clergy spun their lies, said it was some future event, some distant apocalypse. But no, it’s been festering beneath our feet all along. Did they come with guns blazing? No. They slithered in like rot under floorboards, silent, invisible, swallowing temples, courts, schools, councils. They rewrote history under sickly fluorescent lights. They tore down ancestral truths with policy memos and endless red tape. They strangled natural law beneath piles of paperwork and called it progress. What they could not destroy outright, they drowned in forms and signatures. Why fight when you can bury a man in bureaucracy? They didn’t build this world with stone or steel, no. They manufactured it from deadlines, clauses, fees, and worthless codes. A goddamn labyrinth of filings and office chairs. Born into it, a man is shackled at birth, told this is freedom. He works, they siphon. He rests, they fine. He questions, they send letters dripping with hollow authority, letters signed by pale men who have never bled, never sweated, never crafted a goddamn thing with their own hands. These parasites don’t carry weapons, they carry clipboards. They hunt with jargon, dressed in suits, spewing polished nonsense. Tax consultants, auditors, corporate lawyers, compliance officers, they’re a fungal colony feeding on confusion and fear. They invent nothing, build nothing. They survive by converting chaos into invoices and dread into billable hours. What do they really do? What value do they add? Their minds? Narrow, petty, circling in pointless complexity. They mistake tangled rules for intelligence. But ten thousand moving parts mean only one thing, failure, waste, parasitism. How can a system so convoluted serve anything but its masters? How long before it collapses under its own weight? And the worst of it? Man does not fight back. Why would he? The age of fire and steel is dead. Most cannot tie a proper knot. Most cannot build shelter from bark or hunt without plastic tools. Their hands are soft, ruined by constant screen tapping. Their instincts replaced by obedience and scripts. The peak man, the one who crossed oceans by stars, who faced storms without flinching, is a ghost. Dead or forgotten. Who let this happen? Who sold out? The parasites made sure. They feared strength, so they crushed it. They feared clarity, so they drowned it in fog. They feared courage, so they drugged it with comfort and distraction. They feared the raw and the real. But they feared the cold most of all. The waterfall does not burn, it chills. It strikes like ancient stone, like time slapping flesh awake. It stops the clock. It sharpens breath and clears the mind. It leaves no room for lies. It tells you what you are, not a ledger entry, not a tax number, not a drone in their machine, but a creature forged in grit, pain, and endurance. It shows the chains, and demands you remember. So they told you to fear it. To stay inside, medicated, comfortable, docile. But the waterfall is the forgotten truth. It does not comfort, it confronts. It awakens the nerves, steels the marrow. It demands a choice, comply, or become. This is not a country. It is a slaughterhouse. The few feast. The many bleed. And they have the audacity to call this freedom? Tell me, how long will we pretend? How long will we let these parasites fatten themselves on our backs while we rot in silence?
0:10

You again. I’ve been at sea for a month, battling waves and storms, and here you stand, tangled in knots you can’t untie. So what now? You need help? Fine. Let’s get to it. The NPC army, the hive clusters, the snakes, the reptilians, they’ve been here for two centuries, creeping in slow, relentless waves. Didn’t you hear? The Clergy spun their lies, said it was some future event, some distant apocalypse. But no, it’s been festering beneath our feet all along. Did they come with guns blazing? No. They slithered in like rot under floorboards, silent, invisible, swallowing temples, courts, schools, councils. They rewrote history under sickly fluorescent lights. They tore down ancestral truths with policy memos and endless red tape. They strangled natural law beneath piles of paperwork and called it progress. What they could not destroy outright, they drowned in forms and signatures. Why fight when you can bury a man in bureaucracy? They didn’t build this world with stone or steel, no. They manufactured it from deadlines, clauses, fees, and worthless codes. A goddamn labyrinth of filings and office chairs. Born into it, a man is shackled at birth, told this is freedom. He works, they siphon. He rests, they fine. He questions, they send letters dripping with hollow authority, letters signed by pale men who have never bled, never sweated, never crafted a goddamn thing with their own hands. These parasites don’t carry weapons, they carry clipboards. They hunt with jargon, dressed in suits, spewing polished nonsense. Tax consultants, auditors, corporate lawyers, compliance officers, they’re a fungal colony feeding on confusion and fear. They invent nothing, build nothing. They survive by converting chaos into invoices and dread into billable hours. What do they really do? What value do they add? Their minds? Narrow, petty, circling in pointless complexity. They mistake tangled rules for intelligence. But ten thousand moving parts mean only one thing, failure, waste, parasitism. How can a system so convoluted serve anything but its masters? How long before it collapses under its own weight? And the worst of it? Man does not fight back. Why would he? The age of fire and steel is dead. Most cannot tie a proper knot. Most cannot build shelter from bark or hunt without plastic tools. Their hands are soft, ruined by constant screen tapping. Their instincts replaced by obedience and scripts. The peak man, the one who crossed oceans by stars, who faced storms without flinching, is a ghost. Dead or forgotten. Who let this happen? Who sold out? The parasites made sure. They feared strength, so they crushed it. They feared clarity, so they drowned it in fog. They feared courage, so they drugged it with comfort and distraction. They feared the raw and the real. But they feared the cold most of all. The waterfall does not burn, it chills. It strikes like ancient stone, like time slapping flesh awake. It stops the clock. It sharpens breath and clears the mind. It leaves no room for lies. It tells you what you are, not a ledger entry, not a tax number, not a drone in their machine, but a creature forged in grit, pain, and endurance. It shows the chains, and demands you remember. So they told you to fear it. To stay inside, medicated, comfortable, docile. But the waterfall is the forgotten truth. It does not comfort, it confronts. It awakens the nerves, steels the marrow. It demands a choice, comply, or become. This is not a country. It is a slaughterhouse. The few feast. The many bleed. And they have the audacity to call this freedom? Tell me, how long will we pretend? How long will we let these parasites fatten themselves on our backs while we rot in silence?

SiriusB

14,433 просмотров • 10 месяцев назад

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0:10

10 things I can’t quit thinking about after ETHDenver: 1. Convergence = here. Devner didn’t feel like an ETH conference, but more like an AI + crypto + TradFi + techno-philosophical conference. The convergence is true and real and accelerating. 2. Most corporate jobs suck ass. 40 years at a desk working on the same thing? Pure dystopia. We need fluid movement between passions, projects, people. DAOs are a massive step in that direction, but now AI is giving individuals the means to spin up their own massive businesses… there’s also this notion floating around that we can launch a product or contribute to a protocol or a DAO in a way that sets us up for life rather than slaving for decades at the golden teat of a paycheck. It's a massive win for human flourishing, passion and excitement. 3. oRaNgE cOIn. Bitcoin came up far more than I thought it would. Even $ETH ICO buyers/gigawhales talked about how bullish they are on it. The question is no longer whether $BTC will survive but rather how much exposure you should have. Orange coin has truly “up-leveled” or “transcended” to become something people simply can't ignore. 4. Founder quote that hit me like a truck: "We overengineered our project and under-engineered our story." In a world where AI flattens the app creation process, only your mindshare matters. (forgot to write down who said it 😅... chime in in the comments if you see this) 5. “Keepers of truth.” AGI will be able to fake literally anything. In such a world, blockchains become the “keepers of truth” bc they can be used to indisputably verify anything. This isn't just another use case. It means crypto will one day touch everything on earth. h/t Sreeram Kannan's talk at Open AGI Summit. 6. Conference model = broken? Empty mainstage talks were the result of hundreds of side events that siphon off attention. This is happening more and more at every conf I go to. Not sure what the fix here is? Maybe the organizers should be way less centralized… rent a massive venue with tons of flexible spaces that can evolve in real-time… more Zuzalu, less CONTROL and top-down decisions. 7. Current blockchains r too dumb. AI must integrate more directly into the crypto tech stack. Ultimate vision is every hominid should be able to deploy whatever app they can dream up using natural language… this could lead to an giga-explosion of innovation and cool-ass experimentz. h/t Ritual and others 8. Crypto vs. Stripe API. Will we just give agents credit cards or will they prefer crypto wallets? One payment method can be censored. One cannot. Guess which wins? 9. $$$$ infusion. Dozens if not hundreds of projects around the world r sitting on massive treasuries bc they needed it as an insurance policy in case they had to do battle with the SEC. With the changing regulatory sitch, hundreds of millions of dollars (probably billies) can now be used to ship, build and accelerate. 10. Robots in chains? IRL robots made appearances at several events (one was drawing caricatures of passersby). Talked with frens about how we’ll bring them into our homes soon. That leads to crazy questions like “how do we keep them from getting hacked and killing us or blowing up like pagers?” “Will we be ok sleeping in the same room with them? Or will we lock them in the shed with chains?” Absolutely insane to think about… but productivity gains will overshadow all those doubts and human fears imo. De bots are coming whether you want them or not. I for one can’t wait to see zerebro embodied… in the meantime, I got to see him DJ his first show 👇🔥 Anyway, I'm sending love to all of you denverites, futurists, builders, dream dealers, and merchants of hope. Build something that makes this world better, freer, more beautiful and true✊

redphone ☎️

52,818 просмотров • 1 год назад

Say no more.
0:17

Say no more.

That Marine Guy🇮🇳

493,917 просмотров • 19 дней назад

you cutie asian gf 🤪
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you cutie asian gf 🤪

Nan Ma Htwe

209,173 просмотров • 2 лет назад