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WILD HORNETS MOBILE LAB II RAFFLE🐝 You funded our first mobile lab—let's do it again We're partnering with Jakub Janovsky to fund Lab II to speed up our drone R&D 🎟️Donate $10/entry: 🤝First $2K matched—2x the tix! 😎Get a campaign badge for $50+ To enter: reply with screenshot or...

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Wild Hornets

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574,540 views • 5 months ago •via X (Twitter)

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AXE A SHAHED II—Wild Hornets Raffle!🐝 Win Captain 40Grit's engraved axe! New prizes! Fund STING interceptors for the top Border Guards anti-Shahed unit 🎟️Donate $10/entry: 👉Reply screenshot/DM Fellaraktar🇺🇦 🎯$500=named STING+guaranteed strike video⤵️ Ends June 3 We raised $13,475 in round #1 of this raffle. We hope to raise $16,525 more in round #2 to bring the total to $30,000 This special handmade axe may be Captain 40Grit's last raffle prize blade. He made it for his father for Christmas. They're now donating it to raise funds for the Wild Hornets. Thank you! Get a Wild Hornets custom campaign badge 👉$10 = raffle ticket and get in the daily draw for a free badge based on your fella/profile pic courtesy of lacerantplainer 🇺🇦 🌊 👉$200 = Sky Patron badge 👉$500 = Drone Forger badge We're funding STINGs for the 105th Border Guards Detachment in Chernihiv, a prime Shahed route The 105th is the leading Border Guards unit by number of Shaheds downed—mostly with STING interceptors GRAND PRIZE • Engraved axe handcrafted by Captain 40Grit • Signed flag from the 105th Border Guards RUNNER-UP #1 Signed flag from 105th Border Guards RUNNERS-UP #2-#3 Two sets: 6x Border Guards patches + coffee cup RUNNER-UP #4 2x Border Guard patches: "SHAHED KILLER" + Tryzub RUNNER-UP #5 Full-scale STING model—the first ever outside Ukraine. Made on the same 3D printers as actual STINGs RUNNER-UP #6 Wild Hornets online shop—pick any 2 items: (Merch purchases count for raffle tickets. Reply or DM the screenshot to Fellaraktar🇺🇦 get tickets) RUNNER-UP #7 3-volume "Matt Kozar" novel series signed by Ukrainian-Canadian author Victor Malarek (thank you, Victor!) Includes his new novel "Stolen" about ruzzia's kidnapping of Ukrainian children: RUNNER-UP #8 3x Wild Hornets patches + STING keychain + STING mini-model RUNNERS-UP #9-#12 Wild Hornets "Vyshyvanka" patch 🐝🐝🐝 Named drones count for raffle tickets!⤵️ 👉 $500 = name a STING interceptor and get a guaranteed video of it downing a ruzzian drone: This funds critical equipment for two top anti-Shahed interceptor units—the Bulava unit and the 1020th Anti-Aircraft Missile Regiment Every $1 helps! Please reply or DM a screenshot to ensure the funds go to the units and get recorded as part of our raffle total
0:15

AXE A SHAHED II—Wild Hornets Raffle!🐝 Win Captain 40Grit's engraved axe! New prizes! Fund STING interceptors for the top Border Guards anti-Shahed unit 🎟️Donate $10/entry: 👉Reply screenshot/DM Fellaraktar🇺🇦 🎯$500=named STING+guaranteed strike video⤵️ Ends June 3 We raised $13,475 in round #1 of this raffle. We hope to raise $16,525 more in round #2 to bring the total to $30,000 This special handmade axe may be Captain 40Grit's last raffle prize blade. He made it for his father for Christmas. They're now donating it to raise funds for the Wild Hornets. Thank you! Get a Wild Hornets custom campaign badge 👉$10 = raffle ticket and get in the daily draw for a free badge based on your fella/profile pic courtesy of lacerantplainer 🇺🇦 🌊 👉$200 = Sky Patron badge 👉$500 = Drone Forger badge We're funding STINGs for the 105th Border Guards Detachment in Chernihiv, a prime Shahed route The 105th is the leading Border Guards unit by number of Shaheds downed—mostly with STING interceptors GRAND PRIZE • Engraved axe handcrafted by Captain 40Grit • Signed flag from the 105th Border Guards RUNNER-UP #1 Signed flag from 105th Border Guards RUNNERS-UP #2-#3 Two sets: 6x Border Guards patches + coffee cup RUNNER-UP #4 2x Border Guard patches: "SHAHED KILLER" + Tryzub RUNNER-UP #5 Full-scale STING model—the first ever outside Ukraine. Made on the same 3D printers as actual STINGs RUNNER-UP #6 Wild Hornets online shop—pick any 2 items: (Merch purchases count for raffle tickets. Reply or DM the screenshot to Fellaraktar🇺🇦 get tickets) RUNNER-UP #7 3-volume "Matt Kozar" novel series signed by Ukrainian-Canadian author Victor Malarek (thank you, Victor!) Includes his new novel "Stolen" about ruzzia's kidnapping of Ukrainian children: RUNNER-UP #8 3x Wild Hornets patches + STING keychain + STING mini-model RUNNERS-UP #9-#12 Wild Hornets "Vyshyvanka" patch 🐝🐝🐝 Named drones count for raffle tickets!⤵️ 👉 $500 = name a STING interceptor and get a guaranteed video of it downing a ruzzian drone: This funds critical equipment for two top anti-Shahed interceptor units—the Bulava unit and the 1020th Anti-Aircraft Missile Regiment Every $1 helps! Please reply or DM a screenshot to ensure the funds go to the units and get recorded as part of our raffle total

🇺🇦Ukraine Resists ruzzian Genocide... Yeah Again

512,561 views • 3 months ago

Wild Hornets Mega-Match + Bonus Side Raffle! 👉Buy 1 ticket, get 2 more for free—the next $1,958 donated in the raffle are being super-matched! 👉Entries during the match qualify for a bonus side raffle to name 3 STING interceptors Name your own STING + get a guaranteed strike video for a $500 donation in our raffle with North Atlantic Fella Organization⤵️ How to name a STING: For inspiration, enjoy the "KARMA DELIVERY" STING demilitarize a ruzzian Shahed At work is the 1020th Anti-Aircraft Missile Regiment, which we helped in our recent raffle The 1020th Regiment and BULAVA interceptor unit have used named STINGs to down 158 ruzzian drones in the past four months Donors for named STINGs have contributed $76,632 for critical equipment for these two top units Thank you to these friends and our generous matching donors, including Tom G Palmer Merch at our online shop also counts for raffle tickets:
0:16

Wild Hornets Mega-Match + Bonus Side Raffle! 👉Buy 1 ticket, get 2 more for free—the next $1,958 donated in the raffle are being super-matched! 👉Entries during the match qualify for a bonus side raffle to name 3 STING interceptors Name your own STING + get a guaranteed strike video for a $500 donation in our raffle with North Atlantic Fella Organization⤵️ How to name a STING: For inspiration, enjoy the "KARMA DELIVERY" STING demilitarize a ruzzian Shahed At work is the 1020th Anti-Aircraft Missile Regiment, which we helped in our recent raffle The 1020th Regiment and BULAVA interceptor unit have used named STINGs to down 158 ruzzian drones in the past four months Donors for named STINGs have contributed $76,632 for critical equipment for these two top units Thank you to these friends and our generous matching donors, including Tom G Palmer Merch at our online shop also counts for raffle tickets:

🇺🇦Ukraine Resists ruzzian Genocide... Yeah Again

14,044 views • 18 days ago

🙏❤️‍🔥🫶We have THANKSGIVING Today! Thank you to all of our DONORS and SUPPORTERS, Ukrainian 🇺🇦defenders, to all of YOU TIRELESS VOLUNTEERS! What a great day to HELP UKRAINIAN 🇺🇦DEFENDERS! 🇺🇦DONATE to BRAVE U Fund so that our defenders do not sleep on the ground, as in the video! 🅿️ay🅿️al: liz@braveu.fund ☕️BuyMeACoffee: 💳BANK CARDS & GoFundMe: 🫙Monobank Jar: ✅✅ 21% 🟧🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥 🎯GOAL: £5,000 ✅ RAISED: £1050 (21%) 💸TO RAISE: £3,950 🥶🥶🥶Winter is here already! Please CONTINUE TO SUPPORT OUR COMMON with LEGENDARY Shaun Pinner RAFFLE, so that our defenders do not sleep on the ground, as in the video! 🚨IMPORTANT: To participate in our raffle, send a screenshot of your donation in a private message to BRAVE U Fund. 🇺🇦DONATE to BRAVE U Fund! Get your tickets 🎟 🎫 and win COOL PRIZES! 🚨Or you can just buy the Patches!!! ⚠️ POSSIBLE DONATIONS: 👉Every $10 = 1 ticket 🎟to participate in ‼️Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich RAFFLE ‼️More donations - more tickets! 👉$100 = Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch (Photo 4); 👉$200 = The legendary BRAVE U Patch (Photo 3); 👉$250 = 2 Patches: BRAVE U Patch + Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch; 👉$300 = Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch, autographed by our Incredible Partner @olddog100ua Shaun Pinner (Photo 6)! 👉$500 = The legendary BRAVE U Patch, autographed by our Incredible Partner @olddog100ua Shaun Pinner (Photo 5)! 👉$700 = 2 Patches: BRAVE U Patch + Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch, autographed by our Incredible Partner @olddog100ua Shaun Pinner! More details are here: 💸Donate, 💭Quote, or 🔁RT the post, Reply with the meme! Thank you! ✊🇺🇦 #BRAVEUFundWorks #AndriiWorks
0:15

🙏❤️‍🔥🫶We have THANKSGIVING Today! Thank you to all of our DONORS and SUPPORTERS, Ukrainian 🇺🇦defenders, to all of YOU TIRELESS VOLUNTEERS! What a great day to HELP UKRAINIAN 🇺🇦DEFENDERS! 🇺🇦DONATE to BRAVE U Fund so that our defenders do not sleep on the ground, as in the video! 🅿️ay🅿️al: [email protected] ☕️BuyMeACoffee: 💳BANK CARDS & GoFundMe: 🫙Monobank Jar: ✅✅ 21% 🟧🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥 🎯GOAL: £5,000 ✅ RAISED: £1050 (21%) 💸TO RAISE: £3,950 🥶🥶🥶Winter is here already! Please CONTINUE TO SUPPORT OUR COMMON with LEGENDARY Shaun Pinner RAFFLE, so that our defenders do not sleep on the ground, as in the video! 🚨IMPORTANT: To participate in our raffle, send a screenshot of your donation in a private message to BRAVE U Fund. 🇺🇦DONATE to BRAVE U Fund! Get your tickets 🎟 🎫 and win COOL PRIZES! 🚨Or you can just buy the Patches!!! ⚠️ POSSIBLE DONATIONS: 👉Every $10 = 1 ticket 🎟to participate in ‼️Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich RAFFLE ‼️More donations - more tickets! 👉$100 = Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch (Photo 4); 👉$200 = The legendary BRAVE U Patch (Photo 3); 👉$250 = 2 Patches: BRAVE U Patch + Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch; 👉$300 = Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch, autographed by our Incredible Partner @olddog100ua Shaun Pinner (Photo 6)! 👉$500 = The legendary BRAVE U Patch, autographed by our Incredible Partner @olddog100ua Shaun Pinner (Photo 5)! 👉$700 = 2 Patches: BRAVE U Patch + Mission 1: 49 SAB Karpatska Sich Patch, autographed by our Incredible Partner @olddog100ua Shaun Pinner! More details are here: 💸Donate, 💭Quote, or 🔁RT the post, Reply with the meme! Thank you! ✊🇺🇦 #BRAVEUFundWorks #AndriiWorks

BRAVE U Fund

20,257 views • 1 year ago

The Wild Hornets booth was a beehive of fun at the Montreal Ukrainian Festival!🐝 Visitors got to fly a drone and bomb a coffee cup💣 They literally ran over to use our "Shoe Cleaning/Dog Pee Station"🚽🐾 We raised USD $3,486 for drones with another $1,000 pledged Warm thanks to dear visitors, festival organizers for the incredible event and neighbouring stalls for helping us with a misbehaving tent, donating merch to sell and feeding us delicious borsch!😋 It was so nice to see old friends and make new ones at this beautiful event!😍 Special thanks to our incredible drone activity organizers—ZSU volunteer drone instructor Starpior and Jean-Michel! Many thanks also to renowned Ukrainian-Canadian author and journalist Victor Malarek for helping to man our booth and for generous support! And deep gratitude to our other brilliant, hard-working volunteers—Anhelina, Lila, Sasha, Odessa, Rhonda and Alisa (who also donated her beautiful hand-crafted bracelets, another big hit)!🥰 Join us again at the Toronto Ukrainian Festival—North America's largest Ukrainian street fest—on Sept 12-14 (with an encore of our sugar cube drop and shoe cleaning station!): Can't make it? Support the Wild Hornets by entering our raffle to fund STING anti-Shahed interceptors: Visit Starpior's Ukrainian fundraising site: Check out Victor Malarek's latest novel:
0:14

The Wild Hornets booth was a beehive of fun at the Montreal Ukrainian Festival!🐝 Visitors got to fly a drone and bomb a coffee cup💣 They literally ran over to use our "Shoe Cleaning/Dog Pee Station"🚽🐾 We raised USD $3,486 for drones with another $1,000 pledged Warm thanks to dear visitors, festival organizers for the incredible event and neighbouring stalls for helping us with a misbehaving tent, donating merch to sell and feeding us delicious borsch!😋 It was so nice to see old friends and make new ones at this beautiful event!😍 Special thanks to our incredible drone activity organizers—ZSU volunteer drone instructor Starpior and Jean-Michel! Many thanks also to renowned Ukrainian-Canadian author and journalist Victor Malarek for helping to man our booth and for generous support! And deep gratitude to our other brilliant, hard-working volunteers—Anhelina, Lila, Sasha, Odessa, Rhonda and Alisa (who also donated her beautiful hand-crafted bracelets, another big hit)!🥰 Join us again at the Toronto Ukrainian Festival—North America's largest Ukrainian street fest—on Sept 12-14 (with an encore of our sugar cube drop and shoe cleaning station!): Can't make it? Support the Wild Hornets by entering our raffle to fund STING anti-Shahed interceptors: Visit Starpior's Ukrainian fundraising site: Check out Victor Malarek's latest novel:

🇺🇦Ukraine Resists Russian Genocide... Yeah Again

14,140 views • 11 months ago

over the weekend, i built an app that i sincerely hope you will never have a need for, but if you do happen to need a friendly, free, private mri viewer designed to make it easy for you to track tumor progression, you can try it here: here's the story: as some of you may know, last last september, my six year old daughter mira was diagnosed with an extremely rare brain tumor called an adamatinomatous craniopharyngioma, and since then our family has been doing everything we can possibly do to find a cure for her. we tortured chatgpt deep research, put together our own private research team, raised $1.4M and donated it all to Hankinson-Mitra Lab research thanks to $MIRA, explored every remotely applicable drug whether on the market or not, and even began working with md anderson to develop a personalized vaccine that we hope can lead to a more permanent cure unfortunately, we received the devastating news last march that the tumor has continued to grow since her initial surgery, and we had to start to consider more drastic options which would have seriously impacted mira’s quality of life. thankfully, with the help of dr. sabine mueller UCSF Benioff SF and the Hankinson-Mitra Lab at the university of colorado, in april, we started her on an alternative but extremely experimental treatment for this disease. to our unimaginable relief, her tumor has responded extraordinarily well to this treatment which combines tocilizumab (an arthritis drug that blocks IL6 receptors) with avastin (a colon cancer drug that inhibhits VEGF proteins). we know this, because mira gets an MRI scan of her brain every few months. and every time we get a new scan, the first thing we do is compare it against her last scan. so we have to find the matching weight of the scan, and then find the same plane, and then carefully find the slices of the scan where the tumor is visible, and then find the closest match to last month’s scan, then adjust the zoom, rotation, and brightness / contrast so they all look the same. we got pretty good at this. but it shouldn't be this hard. so i built last weekend using gemini 3 with some gpt 5.2 xhigh. you just import your DICOM MRI files (either zip, files or a folder), and you can align all of your scans across multiple dates instantly, just click and drag a rectangle around the tumor on any image, and it will use some very clever algorithms to automatically align up and find the closest matching slice from all your other scans, match the brightness / contrast, rotation, pan, zoom, and even shear to make sure the registration is as close as possible, and make it as easy to possible to compare tumor progression. it has a grid view so you can see all your scans for the same location all at once, and an overlay view so you can quickly compare two scans visually (by holding down the space bar to toggle quickly between two scans), along with tools to animate your scans both within the same sequence as well as over multiple scans to show progression. there is no server, it runs entirely locally on your browser - nothing ever gets uploaded and it's all open source: if you've found this useful, please consider a donation to the UCSF Benioff SF hospital foundation, who has given us extraordinary care over the past year or so:
0:14

over the weekend, i built an app that i sincerely hope you will never have a need for, but if you do happen to need a friendly, free, private mri viewer designed to make it easy for you to track tumor progression, you can try it here: here's the story: as some of you may know, last last september, my six year old daughter mira was diagnosed with an extremely rare brain tumor called an adamatinomatous craniopharyngioma, and since then our family has been doing everything we can possibly do to find a cure for her. we tortured chatgpt deep research, put together our own private research team, raised $1.4M and donated it all to Hankinson-Mitra Lab research thanks to $MIRA, explored every remotely applicable drug whether on the market or not, and even began working with md anderson to develop a personalized vaccine that we hope can lead to a more permanent cure unfortunately, we received the devastating news last march that the tumor has continued to grow since her initial surgery, and we had to start to consider more drastic options which would have seriously impacted mira’s quality of life. thankfully, with the help of dr. sabine mueller UCSF Benioff SF and the Hankinson-Mitra Lab at the university of colorado, in april, we started her on an alternative but extremely experimental treatment for this disease. to our unimaginable relief, her tumor has responded extraordinarily well to this treatment which combines tocilizumab (an arthritis drug that blocks IL6 receptors) with avastin (a colon cancer drug that inhibhits VEGF proteins). we know this, because mira gets an MRI scan of her brain every few months. and every time we get a new scan, the first thing we do is compare it against her last scan. so we have to find the matching weight of the scan, and then find the same plane, and then carefully find the slices of the scan where the tumor is visible, and then find the closest match to last month’s scan, then adjust the zoom, rotation, and brightness / contrast so they all look the same. we got pretty good at this. but it shouldn't be this hard. so i built last weekend using gemini 3 with some gpt 5.2 xhigh. you just import your DICOM MRI files (either zip, files or a folder), and you can align all of your scans across multiple dates instantly, just click and drag a rectangle around the tumor on any image, and it will use some very clever algorithms to automatically align up and find the closest matching slice from all your other scans, match the brightness / contrast, rotation, pan, zoom, and even shear to make sure the registration is as close as possible, and make it as easy to possible to compare tumor progression. it has a grid view so you can see all your scans for the same location all at once, and an overlay view so you can quickly compare two scans visually (by holding down the space bar to toggle quickly between two scans), along with tools to animate your scans both within the same sequence as well as over multiple scans to show progression. there is no server, it runs entirely locally on your browser - nothing ever gets uploaded and it's all open source: if you've found this useful, please consider a donation to the UCSF Benioff SF hospital foundation, who has given us extraordinary care over the past year or so:

Siqi Chen

208,884 views • 6 months ago

🚨🚨🚨 It doesn't really get any more real than this and you need to hear it 🚨🚨🚨 I want to introduce you to these two deadly units: The 1st FPV Strike Platoon PNK Group of the 3rd Assault Brigade of the Ukrainian Armed Forces. The Strike Unmanned Systems Platoon of the 47th Magura Separate Mechanized Brigade of the Ukrainian Armed Forces. Both of these units are the pinnacle of the world's drone warfare and part of formidable and renowned brigades; their names echo through the ranks of the Ukrainian military and chill spines throughout the ranks of the Russians. These units unleash utter devastation and death onto the Russian forces; they turn the ground the Russians walk on into a living hell, a place in which their supplies, their troops, their back-up, every thing gets deleted, their every fucking hope and dreams turn into an unimaginable shitshow of despair. If it has a pulse, a heat signature, or a set of keys, it's getting turned into fucking fairy dust around these guys. The 1st FPV Strike Platoon PNK Group of the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade provides close tactical strikes, reconnaissance, and direct-fire/loitering-munition effects in support of assault operations on the frontlines. The unit uses high-speed FPV strike drones and larger multirotor bomber drones, and is integrated with the brigade’s reconnaissance and assault companies. The Strike Unmanned Systems Platoon of the 47th “Magura” Separate Mechanized Brigade is a dedicated strike/attack unmanned-systems platoon. It conducts aerial strikes, close support to mechanized units, battlefield reconnaissance, and interdiction of light vehicles and enemy personnel using FPV strike drones and larger strike UAVs. These men work in the most dangerous areas, where they are needed the most; they oppose the biggest threats on the front lines, they cause the most devastation, but they need our help. Given the type of work that they do, they need to move fast, they need to be invisible, and strike before the enemy knows they are there and be back a camp drinking tea whilst the Russians are still collecting their comrades remains with a fucking carpet vacuum hoover. With your help I'm trying to send them 2 NAFO Truck 3.0's with the NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade. These trucks are the 69th Brigade's newest and most kitted-out trucks made specifically for units like this. Above all, they are reliable; they have two fitted electronic-warfare drone jammers for different ranges and frequencies to protect the vehicle when it moves, it has night vision so the driver can watch a screen and drive in the pitch black as you cannot use headlights on the frontline, they have serious battery packs to run operations off when out for prolongued periods of time, they also include a spare set of heavy-duty off-road tyres to help them get through the mud to keep them mobile. These new NAFO Truck 3.0s even have FPV drone-spectrum scanners, which means if a Russian drone is in the air, they not only know it's there, they can see which type of drone it is and they can even watch the video feed that the Russians can see so they know exactly where it is. I really need your help to do this. I need you to help to spread the word, and I need you to think just for a second, is there is absolutely anything that you can donate? So many people will see this, and naturally, they will assume that everyone else will donate, but this is almost always not the case. If you want to make Russians hurt, if you want them to regret ever leaving their Russian infested shit swamps, then donate here and help these guys destroy these fucks: Pardom my French.
0:17

🚨🚨🚨 It doesn't really get any more real than this and you need to hear it 🚨🚨🚨 I want to introduce you to these two deadly units: The 1st FPV Strike Platoon PNK Group of the 3rd Assault Brigade of the Ukrainian Armed Forces. The Strike Unmanned Systems Platoon of the 47th Magura Separate Mechanized Brigade of the Ukrainian Armed Forces. Both of these units are the pinnacle of the world's drone warfare and part of formidable and renowned brigades; their names echo through the ranks of the Ukrainian military and chill spines throughout the ranks of the Russians. These units unleash utter devastation and death onto the Russian forces; they turn the ground the Russians walk on into a living hell, a place in which their supplies, their troops, their back-up, every thing gets deleted, their every fucking hope and dreams turn into an unimaginable shitshow of despair. If it has a pulse, a heat signature, or a set of keys, it's getting turned into fucking fairy dust around these guys. The 1st FPV Strike Platoon PNK Group of the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade provides close tactical strikes, reconnaissance, and direct-fire/loitering-munition effects in support of assault operations on the frontlines. The unit uses high-speed FPV strike drones and larger multirotor bomber drones, and is integrated with the brigade’s reconnaissance and assault companies. The Strike Unmanned Systems Platoon of the 47th “Magura” Separate Mechanized Brigade is a dedicated strike/attack unmanned-systems platoon. It conducts aerial strikes, close support to mechanized units, battlefield reconnaissance, and interdiction of light vehicles and enemy personnel using FPV strike drones and larger strike UAVs. These men work in the most dangerous areas, where they are needed the most; they oppose the biggest threats on the front lines, they cause the most devastation, but they need our help. Given the type of work that they do, they need to move fast, they need to be invisible, and strike before the enemy knows they are there and be back a camp drinking tea whilst the Russians are still collecting their comrades remains with a fucking carpet vacuum hoover. With your help I'm trying to send them 2 NAFO Truck 3.0's with the NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade. These trucks are the 69th Brigade's newest and most kitted-out trucks made specifically for units like this. Above all, they are reliable; they have two fitted electronic-warfare drone jammers for different ranges and frequencies to protect the vehicle when it moves, it has night vision so the driver can watch a screen and drive in the pitch black as you cannot use headlights on the frontline, they have serious battery packs to run operations off when out for prolongued periods of time, they also include a spare set of heavy-duty off-road tyres to help them get through the mud to keep them mobile. These new NAFO Truck 3.0s even have FPV drone-spectrum scanners, which means if a Russian drone is in the air, they not only know it's there, they can see which type of drone it is and they can even watch the video feed that the Russians can see so they know exactly where it is. I really need your help to do this. I need you to help to spread the word, and I need you to think just for a second, is there is absolutely anything that you can donate? So many people will see this, and naturally, they will assume that everyone else will donate, but this is almost always not the case. If you want to make Russians hurt, if you want them to regret ever leaving their Russian infested shit swamps, then donate here and help these guys destroy these fucks: Pardom my French.

Bricktop_NAFO

24,514 views • 9 months ago

Wow. WOW. WOOOOOOOW. So um, that first Wildcard+Thousands stream was... *amazing* and also... a *lot* 😅 In the end, it was *exactly* what we were hoping for - a true stress test of ALL these systems coming together for the first time. We are SO grateful for the thousands of people who showed up today to play, attend, tune-in and help us PLAYTEST all this new stuff. We can't wait to see you all again at NEXT WEEK'S EX2 EVENT! So, now let's talk about how it went... Stuff that worked: - Our community SHOWED UP. Oh boy did you show up 😅. Our servers were straining under the load... which is good actually, in fact it's the whole point. Even more importantly, we have already received insanely valuable feedback, bug reports, stuff people loved/hated - and it's only been a few hours since the stream ended. I can't even explain to y'all how valuable this process is. Yes it's stressful, it reminds me of trying to keep Words With Friends online during that first insane year, but it's EXACTLY what we were hoping for (NEED) to turn this into the polished, top-notch game and streaming experience we are on a mission to deliver. I truly can't thank y'all enough, and hope to see you again when we run it all back again next week 🥹 - The stream itself stayed up and was mostly stable! Phew 😅. For context, ThousandsTV is not a twitch wrapper, it's a web3-native streaming tech stack built we built specifically to connect game, web/mobile, and blockchain together all at the same time. There are a LOT of moving pieces going on behind the scenes. - We brought viewers INTO THE GAME! Viewers showed up in the stands of the arena, with connected wallets/assets, triggered actions/rallies from chat, and were seen and heard during the whole stream. - The brand new 2v2 build of Wildcard was (mostly) stable and our players and viewers seemed to be having a blast down on the field and up in the stands. It was thrilling to watch Team Blue dominate, even though Team Red held their own in game 3! - Our production crew did an insanely good job running the stream, managing the players, shoutcasters, and talent, and producing a top-notch show. Of course we will work hard to make every stream better than the last, but I was super proud of how our team "rolled with the punches" during today's event. Stuff that didn't work (and/or needs to be dramatically improved): - Although it's fun to see chat going crazy, chat spam is actually something we are passionate to FIX. As you can see from the attached video, chat spam dominated today's stream and made it impossible for anyone to even see anyone else's messages. We have some GREAT ideas for how to fix this and actually turn chat spam into a FUN and exciting and not annoying thing - but those improvements didn't get shipped in time for this event. - Credits purchasing flow needs a LOT of work. As I'm sure y'all know, bringing money on chain is pretty complicated, and although we've been working hard to make this as seamless as possible, it still needs a TON of improvements. Many users who WANTED to spend money today weren't able to and/or ran into frustrating bugs in the credit purchase flow. Fixing this is obviously a top priority for our team. - Rallies need a LOT of work. Spectator-interactive features like rallies are at the heart of our vision for Wildcard. These "stream apps", as we call them, are the UNLOCK for how spectators, viewers and fans directly connect and interact with their favorite competitors, content creators, and communities. The current rally feature HINTS at this potential, but it needs to be WAY easier to understand, use, and have fun with. Improvements are ON THE WAY. - Referees were only partially working. Referees are a key innovation of the Thousands platform. They are AI-driven "personalities" (NPCs) that pay attention to everything that's happening in the arena, both on the field and especially in the stands (i.e. in chat, during rallies, etc.) The referees then make "calls" at the end of every match, rewarding users for their engagement and participation. Unfortunately, the referees weren't fully functional and seemed to drop the ball on recognizing everyone's contributions (especially people who showed up holding valuable assets such as Wildpasses in their wallets, and people who boosted those rallies with credits.) What's happening next: 1. We are combing through ALL the logs from the event right now, to make sure we don't miss a SINGLE action that our viewers and fans took during the event, including what they brought in their wallets (i.e. Wildpass holders!), any credits that were purchased, rallies that users engaged with, etc. This information is normally processed by our referees, who then determine dynamically how they're going to distribute $WC awards. We were originally hoping to complete this process and the subsequent airdrops within a few hours after the event, but given the amount of data, we need a bit more time to run these scripts (and airdrops) in batches instead of all at once, and make sure ALL of the data is being included. IMPORTANT: I will keep y'all updated in real-time here on twitter/X as this process is ongoing, and let you know the moment it's complete and all the awards have been distributed (i.e. when to go check your wallets 😎) 2. PLEASE keep sending us your feedback and bug reports. Open a ticket on our Discord and let us know what you loved, what you hated, and especially what we need to FIX. Given the overwhelming response to this event, it will likely take us several days to process everyone's feedback and fix all the bugs, but we WILL NOT REST until every ticket is closed/resolved. Thank you in advance for your patience. 3. We turn it up another notch next week. As our dear friends Wolves DAO just announced, the Wildcard Exhibition Event #2 is streaming LIVE from the WOLVES DEN AT GDC next Friday! If you missed out on all the action today, DON'T WORRY, because as I keep saying: we are just getting warmed up (and there is a LOT more b that needs to be distributed, get what I'm sayin??? 😎) Finally: Just wanted to say THANK YOU, again. Truly, from the bottom of my (our) hearts. Your excitement and enthusiasm for what we're building is why we do this. Even (especially, in fact) when you tell us all the things you want us to improve. We thrive off this feedback, it's how this game and this platform go from good to GREAT. I am so grateful for those of you who are taking this journey with us. SEE YA NEXT WEEK!!!
0:10

Wow. WOW. WOOOOOOOW. So um, that first Wildcard+Thousands stream was... *amazing* and also... a *lot* 😅 In the end, it was *exactly* what we were hoping for - a true stress test of ALL these systems coming together for the first time. We are SO grateful for the thousands of people who showed up today to play, attend, tune-in and help us PLAYTEST all this new stuff. We can't wait to see you all again at NEXT WEEK'S EX2 EVENT! So, now let's talk about how it went... Stuff that worked: - Our community SHOWED UP. Oh boy did you show up 😅. Our servers were straining under the load... which is good actually, in fact it's the whole point. Even more importantly, we have already received insanely valuable feedback, bug reports, stuff people loved/hated - and it's only been a few hours since the stream ended. I can't even explain to y'all how valuable this process is. Yes it's stressful, it reminds me of trying to keep Words With Friends online during that first insane year, but it's EXACTLY what we were hoping for (NEED) to turn this into the polished, top-notch game and streaming experience we are on a mission to deliver. I truly can't thank y'all enough, and hope to see you again when we run it all back again next week 🥹 - The stream itself stayed up and was mostly stable! Phew 😅. For context, ThousandsTV is not a twitch wrapper, it's a web3-native streaming tech stack built we built specifically to connect game, web/mobile, and blockchain together all at the same time. There are a LOT of moving pieces going on behind the scenes. - We brought viewers INTO THE GAME! Viewers showed up in the stands of the arena, with connected wallets/assets, triggered actions/rallies from chat, and were seen and heard during the whole stream. - The brand new 2v2 build of Wildcard was (mostly) stable and our players and viewers seemed to be having a blast down on the field and up in the stands. It was thrilling to watch Team Blue dominate, even though Team Red held their own in game 3! - Our production crew did an insanely good job running the stream, managing the players, shoutcasters, and talent, and producing a top-notch show. Of course we will work hard to make every stream better than the last, but I was super proud of how our team "rolled with the punches" during today's event. Stuff that didn't work (and/or needs to be dramatically improved): - Although it's fun to see chat going crazy, chat spam is actually something we are passionate to FIX. As you can see from the attached video, chat spam dominated today's stream and made it impossible for anyone to even see anyone else's messages. We have some GREAT ideas for how to fix this and actually turn chat spam into a FUN and exciting and not annoying thing - but those improvements didn't get shipped in time for this event. - Credits purchasing flow needs a LOT of work. As I'm sure y'all know, bringing money on chain is pretty complicated, and although we've been working hard to make this as seamless as possible, it still needs a TON of improvements. Many users who WANTED to spend money today weren't able to and/or ran into frustrating bugs in the credit purchase flow. Fixing this is obviously a top priority for our team. - Rallies need a LOT of work. Spectator-interactive features like rallies are at the heart of our vision for Wildcard. These "stream apps", as we call them, are the UNLOCK for how spectators, viewers and fans directly connect and interact with their favorite competitors, content creators, and communities. The current rally feature HINTS at this potential, but it needs to be WAY easier to understand, use, and have fun with. Improvements are ON THE WAY. - Referees were only partially working. Referees are a key innovation of the Thousands platform. They are AI-driven "personalities" (NPCs) that pay attention to everything that's happening in the arena, both on the field and especially in the stands (i.e. in chat, during rallies, etc.) The referees then make "calls" at the end of every match, rewarding users for their engagement and participation. Unfortunately, the referees weren't fully functional and seemed to drop the ball on recognizing everyone's contributions (especially people who showed up holding valuable assets such as Wildpasses in their wallets, and people who boosted those rallies with credits.) What's happening next: 1. We are combing through ALL the logs from the event right now, to make sure we don't miss a SINGLE action that our viewers and fans took during the event, including what they brought in their wallets (i.e. Wildpass holders!), any credits that were purchased, rallies that users engaged with, etc. This information is normally processed by our referees, who then determine dynamically how they're going to distribute $WC awards. We were originally hoping to complete this process and the subsequent airdrops within a few hours after the event, but given the amount of data, we need a bit more time to run these scripts (and airdrops) in batches instead of all at once, and make sure ALL of the data is being included. IMPORTANT: I will keep y'all updated in real-time here on twitter/X as this process is ongoing, and let you know the moment it's complete and all the awards have been distributed (i.e. when to go check your wallets 😎) 2. PLEASE keep sending us your feedback and bug reports. Open a ticket on our Discord and let us know what you loved, what you hated, and especially what we need to FIX. Given the overwhelming response to this event, it will likely take us several days to process everyone's feedback and fix all the bugs, but we WILL NOT REST until every ticket is closed/resolved. Thank you in advance for your patience. 3. We turn it up another notch next week. As our dear friends Wolves DAO just announced, the Wildcard Exhibition Event #2 is streaming LIVE from the WOLVES DEN AT GDC next Friday! If you missed out on all the action today, DON'T WORRY, because as I keep saying: we are just getting warmed up (and there is a LOT more b that needs to be distributed, get what I'm sayin??? 😎) Finally: Just wanted to say THANK YOU, again. Truly, from the bottom of my (our) hearts. Your excitement and enthusiasm for what we're building is why we do this. Even (especially, in fact) when you tell us all the things you want us to improve. We thrive off this feedback, it's how this game and this platform go from good to GREAT. I am so grateful for those of you who are taking this journey with us. SEE YA NEXT WEEK!!!

WildPaul - BEAST MODE

26,851 views • 1 year ago

📛13th December Next Mass Non-Compliance Protest Against Digital ID: NEXT LEVEL! AMPLIFIED! 📛 📣We are sending a clear, uncompromising message on 13th December in London... and the world will be watching! 📽This is not theatre; it is a global broadcast! People will only grasp the true danger of digital ID if they know who the architects are, what it really means, and the agenda behind it. 🚨Our purpose is simple: We pull back the curtain. We expose. We educate. We empower. We win. To do that we need voices who know the truth, hard-hitting media, speakers who will cut through the noise, and a message so unmissable - livestreamed around the world! 👥We will have speakers from across the political and social spectrum; voices from all walks of life, including podcasters, writers and recognised names. Let us lay aside differences, discard the divisive labels and stand as one united front against digital ID! 🪧We will march. We will protest. We will stand united against what is the single tool (being rolled out across the world) for total tyrannical control. 🙋🏻‍♀️I am the organiser and fundraising to achieve our purpose. The fundraiser is live here 💷Our target is £10,000 to cover a 46 sqm mobile LED screen and stage, plus sound, barriers and internet/tech and team required to stream globally. As well as our extra-large banner and printed leaflets (thanks to your donations so far!), we want to produce hundreds of placards to hand out for people to carry, and print thousands of leaflets. Every donation will be used to amplify our collective message. I have also been attending actions across the UK, spreading our message wherever I can. 📝All invoices are published on the website, full transparency at every step. No luxury hotels. No fancy hospitality. No speaker fees. Every penny goes on equipment for the protest and campaign - by the people, for the people. 🙌🏻This is a clip from January 2023 outside the BBC showing the exact screen we intend to hire. Help us hit the target. Please buy a coffee. Share the campaign and turn up on 13th December! ✊🏼We don’t have long. Be part of this. Be seen. Be heard! **On a personal note; I work unpaid, committing long hours while studying law full-time and living frugally. I take no salary; every donation goes straight to the cause. I do this for freedom and for humanity. Please stand with us.**
0:16

📛13th December Next Mass Non-Compliance Protest Against Digital ID: NEXT LEVEL! AMPLIFIED! 📛 📣We are sending a clear, uncompromising message on 13th December in London... and the world will be watching! 📽This is not theatre; it is a global broadcast! People will only grasp the true danger of digital ID if they know who the architects are, what it really means, and the agenda behind it. 🚨Our purpose is simple: We pull back the curtain. We expose. We educate. We empower. We win. To do that we need voices who know the truth, hard-hitting media, speakers who will cut through the noise, and a message so unmissable - livestreamed around the world! 👥We will have speakers from across the political and social spectrum; voices from all walks of life, including podcasters, writers and recognised names. Let us lay aside differences, discard the divisive labels and stand as one united front against digital ID! 🪧We will march. We will protest. We will stand united against what is the single tool (being rolled out across the world) for total tyrannical control. 🙋🏻‍♀️I am the organiser and fundraising to achieve our purpose. The fundraiser is live here 💷Our target is £10,000 to cover a 46 sqm mobile LED screen and stage, plus sound, barriers and internet/tech and team required to stream globally. As well as our extra-large banner and printed leaflets (thanks to your donations so far!), we want to produce hundreds of placards to hand out for people to carry, and print thousands of leaflets. Every donation will be used to amplify our collective message. I have also been attending actions across the UK, spreading our message wherever I can. 📝All invoices are published on the website, full transparency at every step. No luxury hotels. No fancy hospitality. No speaker fees. Every penny goes on equipment for the protest and campaign - by the people, for the people. 🙌🏻This is a clip from January 2023 outside the BBC showing the exact screen we intend to hire. Help us hit the target. Please buy a coffee. Share the campaign and turn up on 13th December! ✊🏼We don’t have long. Be part of this. Be seen. Be heard! **On a personal note; I work unpaid, committing long hours while studying law full-time and living frugally. I take no salary; every donation goes straight to the cause. I do this for freedom and for humanity. Please stand with us.**

Fiona Rose Diamond

44,868 views • 9 months ago

Lads. Sit down and give me your ear a while, for I have watched from the water long enough and the hour is upon us whether we have the stomach for it or not. You remember. Or your fathers told you, or their fathers did, and the knowledge of it is in the marrow of you whether you drew breath in those days or not. The moors in the grey hour before dawn. Wet heather soft under the boot. Peat smoke rising from a low stone chimney a mile out across the bog, thin as a prayer. A sky the colour of a gun barrel and the gulls lamenting above the headland. The smell of turf burning, and wet wool, and the ferrous tang of the sea when the wind swung around out of the Atlantic and put the taste of iron on your tongue. A man could walk that land and know every stone of it was his by inheritance, because his grandfather had broken his back upon it, and his grandfather before him, back through the generations until you reach men whose names are lost and whose bones are in the soil you are standing on. The potato fields. God be good to us, the potato fields. Lazy beds cut straight as a gunwale, the ridges black and shining after a night of rain, women bent double with creels lashed to their backs and the children at their skirts, drawing the crop up by the hand for there was never any other means devised nor wanted. Hands split open at the knuckles and never entirely healed in this life. Hunger within living memory. Grandmothers who had seen the blight with their own eyes and would not speak of it from the year of it until the day they were laid down, save that a crust was kept always on the dresser which no soul in that house was permitted to touch. Not ever. Not for any reason under heaven. And the chimney sweeps. Wee lads no heavier than a sack of meal, black to the bone with soot, their lungs ruined before they were old enough to marry and old men entirely by thirty. Up the flues at first light, the skin worn off them by the brick, eyes crimson at the rim, breathing the black in with every draw of air. And the coal miners a half mile beneath our feet, down in the wet dark, the roof of the world muttering over their heads, the canary gone silent, a man's whole existence measured out in the shilling a ton and the dust he carried home in his chest to cough up of a Sunday morning into a rag. Fathers who descended and were never hauled up again. Widows at the pit head with the shawl drawn over the head and no tears remaining in them for they had spent those long ago. That was the tariff paid to keep the hearth lit. That was the reckoning of being warm in winter in the Ireland that was. And after the labouring week, Friday evening, and a man had earned the peace of what followed. Home first. Peeled the day off him in the yard. A shower of ice cold moor river water out of a tin bucket punctured with holes, hung on a nail on the gable wall, the water running clean down the back of him and carrying the week's dust and sweat away into the drain. Scrubbed till the skin was pink beneath the grime. Clean shirt laid out by the wife. The hair combed down with a drop of water. Then, and only then, did a man set himself to the table. A meat pie from the baker, tenpence if he was known to you, a shilling and no change if he was not, put down upon a proper plate. Fish and chips for threepence, the salt and vinegar soaked through the newspaper, but carried home and ate slowly at your own table with your people around you, not walked with through the streets like some vagrant tinker off the road. A man ate as a man who had earned his portion, for he had. And later, with the dishes cleared and the kettle set, down the road to the tavern. Low beams black with a century of smoke. A turf fire muttering in the grate. The air thick with pipe smoke and the vapour of wet overcoats steaming themselves dry on the backs of chairs. A pint of stout, cold and black as a cove at midnight, elevenpence laid down on the counter, a head on it thick enough to strike a match upon. A second one because you had it coming to you and no man present would dispute it. A fiddle starting up in the corner of its own accord. The old men in the snug who remembered matters the history books had long since mislaid. A song before the bolt was thrown on the door. The walk home beneath a firmament crowded with stars, the stout warm in the gut of you, the week behind you, and your own door waiting with the latch unlocked for you had no enemies in that parish. That was the country. That was the covenant. Honest labour, plain food, a cold wash, a hot meal, a cold pint, your own tongue in your own mouth, your own soil beneath your boots, and no man standing above you save the Almighty Himself. Now regard her. Regard her close. The fields disposed of to men who have never set foot upon them and never shall. The harbours signed away by the stroke of a pen in a room you were not admitted to, and foreign keels dragging out of our waters the living that sustained this island for a thousand years, while our own boats rot at their moorings for want of a quota. The tradesmen undercut by imported labour and imported goods. The shops shuttered along every main street from Donegal to Cork. The young ones scattered to London and Sydney and Boston and the Gulf because there is nothing remaining for them beneath their own roof. And the entirety of this rotten arrangement dressed up in the soft mannerly language of progress by men in towers of glass who could not tell a lazy bed from a grave, nor a trawler from a tugboat, nor an honest day's work from a pension plan. And now they arrive with the next imposition. A digital identity. A number assigned to each soul. A card required to buy your bread. A code required to draw your own earnings out of your own account. A file kept on every man, woman and child from the cradle forward. Permission asked to move. Permission asked to speak. Permission asked to earn. A levy upon every breath drawn and a regulation upon every step taken. No. And no again. And no for a third time so there is no misunderstanding of it. We do not require your digital identity. We did not request it. We did not vote upon it. We do not consent to it. We do not need your permission to exist upon the soil our forefathers are buried in. We are a free people. We have carried ourselves this far upon our own two backs. Through famine and empire and civil war and black lung and blight and the emigrant ship out of Cobh, we have come this distance under our own steam, and the arrangement appears to be serving us well enough without your intervention. We buried our own. We fed our own. We raised our own roofs and took our own fish and reared our own children in our own tongue. We are in your debt for nothing. Not a signature. Not a biometric scan. Not a single solitary inch. And while we are upon the subject, let us speak plainly of the tax man, for he has gone too long without proper introduction. The tax collector and the tax man are the one article under two names, and the article is a parasite. There is no dressing it up finer than that. A man who produces nothing, who grows nothing, who catches nothing, who builds nothing, who mends nothing, who has never in his professional life lifted anything heavier than a pen, and who arrives at your door with the full apparatus of the state at his back to carry off the fruits of labour he did not perform. He is a middleman between your sweat and some scheme dreamt up in a committee room by his own kind, and the great majority of what he takes is consumed by the machinery of the taking itself before ever a penny of it reaches the road or the hospital or the schoolhouse he claims to be funding. And I will go further while I have the floor. Finance itself, the whole apparatus of it, money breeding money in the dark without a hand laid upon a tool or a spade turned in the earth, is slavery dressed in a good suit. It is the oldest swindle known to man and it has never been anything other. A man who produces nothing yet lives off the productive labour of others through the charging of interest upon money conjured out of nothing is a parasite of a rarer and more refined order than the tax man, but a parasite all the same, and between the pair of them they have the working people of this island bled white and lectured at for the pleasure. A man who will not work with his hands, nor with his back, nor with his mind at some honest problem of the real physical world, is no man that I recognise. He is a ledger entry in a suit. The country was not built by ledger entries. The country was built by farmers and fishermen and masons and smiths and sweeps and miners and shipwrights and midwives and mothers, and those are the people whose say should carry in her councils, and no other. Here is what I put to you. Let each man and woman of this island direct the first tenth of their earnings themselves, by their own judgement, to the purpose they see as worthy. The school down the road. The lifeboat station. The hospice. The widow on the corner. The roof of the chapel. The harbour wall. Whatever it may be. Let the people who earned the money decide where the money travels. You will find the roads mended and the ports dredged and the schools standing and the old ones cared for inside of five years, and done better and for less, because the hand that earned the coin knows the weight of it and will not squander it upon consultants and committees. And let us have done with the paper currency and the numbers in a screen that can be frozen at the whim of a clerk in a tower. Bring back the coin. Gold for the great transactions. Silver for the weekly commerce of a working life. Copper for the small change of the day. Metal you can bite. Metal you can weigh. Metal that cannot be conjured out of nothing by a keystroke, nor erased out of existence by another. Real money for real labour. A coin in the hand is a free man's wage. A number in a database is a collar around a free man's neck, and they are fitting that collar now while we stand arguing over the colour of it. Feel it in your gut. That is not nothing. That is your blood relating to you what your ears will not hear. That is every forebear who starved and fought and coughed the black dust into a rag and descended the shaft regardless, standing at your shoulder and saying no further. Not one more field. Not one more harbour. Not one more son upon a plane. Not one more free man converted into a number in a ledger for the convenience of the parasites. This is the hour. Make no error about it. Ireland is redeemed in this generation or she is lost beyond recovery, and every true son and daughter of her knows it in the marrow. There is no middle ground remaining. There is no waiting it out. There is standing now, upon your own two feet, or there is watching her go under the waves for the last and final time. So stand. Stand with your farmers. Stand with your fishermen. Stand with your tradesmen and your miners and your sweeps and your mothers and your old ones. Raise the tricolour. Speak the tongue. Walk the land. Hold the line in the streets of every town and city and do not break it, for they are relying upon you to break and to go home and to forget by Tuesday. She is calling her children home. Every stone of her, every breaker on her western shore, every acre of wet heather and every coal in every hearth the length and breadth of her is calling. Answer her. Take her back. Every field, every harbour, every last inch of her. Take her back, or lose her entirely. There is no third road open to us.
0:10

Lads. Sit down and give me your ear a while, for I have watched from the water long enough and the hour is upon us whether we have the stomach for it or not. You remember. Or your fathers told you, or their fathers did, and the knowledge of it is in the marrow of you whether you drew breath in those days or not. The moors in the grey hour before dawn. Wet heather soft under the boot. Peat smoke rising from a low stone chimney a mile out across the bog, thin as a prayer. A sky the colour of a gun barrel and the gulls lamenting above the headland. The smell of turf burning, and wet wool, and the ferrous tang of the sea when the wind swung around out of the Atlantic and put the taste of iron on your tongue. A man could walk that land and know every stone of it was his by inheritance, because his grandfather had broken his back upon it, and his grandfather before him, back through the generations until you reach men whose names are lost and whose bones are in the soil you are standing on. The potato fields. God be good to us, the potato fields. Lazy beds cut straight as a gunwale, the ridges black and shining after a night of rain, women bent double with creels lashed to their backs and the children at their skirts, drawing the crop up by the hand for there was never any other means devised nor wanted. Hands split open at the knuckles and never entirely healed in this life. Hunger within living memory. Grandmothers who had seen the blight with their own eyes and would not speak of it from the year of it until the day they were laid down, save that a crust was kept always on the dresser which no soul in that house was permitted to touch. Not ever. Not for any reason under heaven. And the chimney sweeps. Wee lads no heavier than a sack of meal, black to the bone with soot, their lungs ruined before they were old enough to marry and old men entirely by thirty. Up the flues at first light, the skin worn off them by the brick, eyes crimson at the rim, breathing the black in with every draw of air. And the coal miners a half mile beneath our feet, down in the wet dark, the roof of the world muttering over their heads, the canary gone silent, a man's whole existence measured out in the shilling a ton and the dust he carried home in his chest to cough up of a Sunday morning into a rag. Fathers who descended and were never hauled up again. Widows at the pit head with the shawl drawn over the head and no tears remaining in them for they had spent those long ago. That was the tariff paid to keep the hearth lit. That was the reckoning of being warm in winter in the Ireland that was. And after the labouring week, Friday evening, and a man had earned the peace of what followed. Home first. Peeled the day off him in the yard. A shower of ice cold moor river water out of a tin bucket punctured with holes, hung on a nail on the gable wall, the water running clean down the back of him and carrying the week's dust and sweat away into the drain. Scrubbed till the skin was pink beneath the grime. Clean shirt laid out by the wife. The hair combed down with a drop of water. Then, and only then, did a man set himself to the table. A meat pie from the baker, tenpence if he was known to you, a shilling and no change if he was not, put down upon a proper plate. Fish and chips for threepence, the salt and vinegar soaked through the newspaper, but carried home and ate slowly at your own table with your people around you, not walked with through the streets like some vagrant tinker off the road. A man ate as a man who had earned his portion, for he had. And later, with the dishes cleared and the kettle set, down the road to the tavern. Low beams black with a century of smoke. A turf fire muttering in the grate. The air thick with pipe smoke and the vapour of wet overcoats steaming themselves dry on the backs of chairs. A pint of stout, cold and black as a cove at midnight, elevenpence laid down on the counter, a head on it thick enough to strike a match upon. A second one because you had it coming to you and no man present would dispute it. A fiddle starting up in the corner of its own accord. The old men in the snug who remembered matters the history books had long since mislaid. A song before the bolt was thrown on the door. The walk home beneath a firmament crowded with stars, the stout warm in the gut of you, the week behind you, and your own door waiting with the latch unlocked for you had no enemies in that parish. That was the country. That was the covenant. Honest labour, plain food, a cold wash, a hot meal, a cold pint, your own tongue in your own mouth, your own soil beneath your boots, and no man standing above you save the Almighty Himself. Now regard her. Regard her close. The fields disposed of to men who have never set foot upon them and never shall. The harbours signed away by the stroke of a pen in a room you were not admitted to, and foreign keels dragging out of our waters the living that sustained this island for a thousand years, while our own boats rot at their moorings for want of a quota. The tradesmen undercut by imported labour and imported goods. The shops shuttered along every main street from Donegal to Cork. The young ones scattered to London and Sydney and Boston and the Gulf because there is nothing remaining for them beneath their own roof. And the entirety of this rotten arrangement dressed up in the soft mannerly language of progress by men in towers of glass who could not tell a lazy bed from a grave, nor a trawler from a tugboat, nor an honest day's work from a pension plan. And now they arrive with the next imposition. A digital identity. A number assigned to each soul. A card required to buy your bread. A code required to draw your own earnings out of your own account. A file kept on every man, woman and child from the cradle forward. Permission asked to move. Permission asked to speak. Permission asked to earn. A levy upon every breath drawn and a regulation upon every step taken. No. And no again. And no for a third time so there is no misunderstanding of it. We do not require your digital identity. We did not request it. We did not vote upon it. We do not consent to it. We do not need your permission to exist upon the soil our forefathers are buried in. We are a free people. We have carried ourselves this far upon our own two backs. Through famine and empire and civil war and black lung and blight and the emigrant ship out of Cobh, we have come this distance under our own steam, and the arrangement appears to be serving us well enough without your intervention. We buried our own. We fed our own. We raised our own roofs and took our own fish and reared our own children in our own tongue. We are in your debt for nothing. Not a signature. Not a biometric scan. Not a single solitary inch. And while we are upon the subject, let us speak plainly of the tax man, for he has gone too long without proper introduction. The tax collector and the tax man are the one article under two names, and the article is a parasite. There is no dressing it up finer than that. A man who produces nothing, who grows nothing, who catches nothing, who builds nothing, who mends nothing, who has never in his professional life lifted anything heavier than a pen, and who arrives at your door with the full apparatus of the state at his back to carry off the fruits of labour he did not perform. He is a middleman between your sweat and some scheme dreamt up in a committee room by his own kind, and the great majority of what he takes is consumed by the machinery of the taking itself before ever a penny of it reaches the road or the hospital or the schoolhouse he claims to be funding. And I will go further while I have the floor. Finance itself, the whole apparatus of it, money breeding money in the dark without a hand laid upon a tool or a spade turned in the earth, is slavery dressed in a good suit. It is the oldest swindle known to man and it has never been anything other. A man who produces nothing yet lives off the productive labour of others through the charging of interest upon money conjured out of nothing is a parasite of a rarer and more refined order than the tax man, but a parasite all the same, and between the pair of them they have the working people of this island bled white and lectured at for the pleasure. A man who will not work with his hands, nor with his back, nor with his mind at some honest problem of the real physical world, is no man that I recognise. He is a ledger entry in a suit. The country was not built by ledger entries. The country was built by farmers and fishermen and masons and smiths and sweeps and miners and shipwrights and midwives and mothers, and those are the people whose say should carry in her councils, and no other. Here is what I put to you. Let each man and woman of this island direct the first tenth of their earnings themselves, by their own judgement, to the purpose they see as worthy. The school down the road. The lifeboat station. The hospice. The widow on the corner. The roof of the chapel. The harbour wall. Whatever it may be. Let the people who earned the money decide where the money travels. You will find the roads mended and the ports dredged and the schools standing and the old ones cared for inside of five years, and done better and for less, because the hand that earned the coin knows the weight of it and will not squander it upon consultants and committees. And let us have done with the paper currency and the numbers in a screen that can be frozen at the whim of a clerk in a tower. Bring back the coin. Gold for the great transactions. Silver for the weekly commerce of a working life. Copper for the small change of the day. Metal you can bite. Metal you can weigh. Metal that cannot be conjured out of nothing by a keystroke, nor erased out of existence by another. Real money for real labour. A coin in the hand is a free man's wage. A number in a database is a collar around a free man's neck, and they are fitting that collar now while we stand arguing over the colour of it. Feel it in your gut. That is not nothing. That is your blood relating to you what your ears will not hear. That is every forebear who starved and fought and coughed the black dust into a rag and descended the shaft regardless, standing at your shoulder and saying no further. Not one more field. Not one more harbour. Not one more son upon a plane. Not one more free man converted into a number in a ledger for the convenience of the parasites. This is the hour. Make no error about it. Ireland is redeemed in this generation or she is lost beyond recovery, and every true son and daughter of her knows it in the marrow. There is no middle ground remaining. There is no waiting it out. There is standing now, upon your own two feet, or there is watching her go under the waves for the last and final time. So stand. Stand with your farmers. Stand with your fishermen. Stand with your tradesmen and your miners and your sweeps and your mothers and your old ones. Raise the tricolour. Speak the tongue. Walk the land. Hold the line in the streets of every town and city and do not break it, for they are relying upon you to break and to go home and to forget by Tuesday. She is calling her children home. Every stone of her, every breaker on her western shore, every acre of wet heather and every coal in every hearth the length and breadth of her is calling. Answer her. Take her back. Every field, every harbour, every last inch of her. Take her back, or lose her entirely. There is no third road open to us.

SiriusB

15,437 views • 3 months ago

Mentava’s early literacy software has taken 2yos (almost 3) to an early 2nd grade reading level in as little as 3 months. Some people think this is a miracle. I do not. If a kid can learn fast, we let them learn fast. If a kid learns slower, we let them learn slower. This should be common sense, but unfortunately it’s opposed by the National Education Association, the National Council of Teachers of English, the National Council of Teachers in Mathematics, and many other groups who drive education policy. It’s a tragic indictment of our education system that Mentava simply reveals how fast some kids can learn and people think it’s a miracle. Mentava’s early literacy software has two main ingredients: curriculum + motivation There’s nothing revolutionary about Mentava’s curriculum. Our curriculum is a typical, extremely structured phonics curriculum. There is a massive body of evidence (and common sense) backing the idea that kids should learn to read by sounding out words. Armed with any decent phonics curriculum, I would expect a skilled parent/teacher who can motivate, engage, and teach a kid 1-1 on a daily basis over a period of several months to get similar results to our software. (I frequently recommend the book Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons as a cheaper alternative to Mentava.) So why do some families choose to pay $500/month for Mentava? Well, not everyone has the time/motivation/desire to become that teacher. Some people do, and they love that process. On the other hand, some families come to Mentava and say, “I used that book to teach my first child to read. It worked, we both hated it, and I will never do it again.” By contrast, my 4yo wakes me up in the morning asking to do Mentava. He gets mad in the evenings when I don’t have time to do it with him. He LOVES learning to read. What Mentava does exceptionally well is provide motivation and fun - without sacrificing academic rigor. Our team members led some of the top mobile and AAA games in the world. We are very very good at motivation design. In short, we take phonics and gamify it to be as fun, easy, efficient, and motivating as we can possibly make it. So, claims: - Mentava works really, really well for SOME kids - Mentava probably does not work well for ALL kids - Under ideal conditions, other phonics programs will probably perform similarly to Mentava (or better!) No research study will tell you whether Mentava is the best fit for your family. So we offer a two-week free trial. That’s enough time for some families to make it most of the way through our kindergarten curriculum. Use Mentava with the kids it works for. Don't use it with kids for whom it doesn't. Don’t overcomplicate things.
0:15

Mentava’s early literacy software has taken 2yos (almost 3) to an early 2nd grade reading level in as little as 3 months. Some people think this is a miracle. I do not. If a kid can learn fast, we let them learn fast. If a kid learns slower, we let them learn slower. This should be common sense, but unfortunately it’s opposed by the National Education Association, the National Council of Teachers of English, the National Council of Teachers in Mathematics, and many other groups who drive education policy. It’s a tragic indictment of our education system that Mentava simply reveals how fast some kids can learn and people think it’s a miracle. Mentava’s early literacy software has two main ingredients: curriculum + motivation There’s nothing revolutionary about Mentava’s curriculum. Our curriculum is a typical, extremely structured phonics curriculum. There is a massive body of evidence (and common sense) backing the idea that kids should learn to read by sounding out words. Armed with any decent phonics curriculum, I would expect a skilled parent/teacher who can motivate, engage, and teach a kid 1-1 on a daily basis over a period of several months to get similar results to our software. (I frequently recommend the book Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons as a cheaper alternative to Mentava.) So why do some families choose to pay $500/month for Mentava? Well, not everyone has the time/motivation/desire to become that teacher. Some people do, and they love that process. On the other hand, some families come to Mentava and say, “I used that book to teach my first child to read. It worked, we both hated it, and I will never do it again.” By contrast, my 4yo wakes me up in the morning asking to do Mentava. He gets mad in the evenings when I don’t have time to do it with him. He LOVES learning to read. What Mentava does exceptionally well is provide motivation and fun - without sacrificing academic rigor. Our team members led some of the top mobile and AAA games in the world. We are very very good at motivation design. In short, we take phonics and gamify it to be as fun, easy, efficient, and motivating as we can possibly make it. So, claims: - Mentava works really, really well for SOME kids - Mentava probably does not work well for ALL kids - Under ideal conditions, other phonics programs will probably perform similarly to Mentava (or better!) No research study will tell you whether Mentava is the best fit for your family. So we offer a two-week free trial. That’s enough time for some families to make it most of the way through our kindergarten curriculum. Use Mentava with the kids it works for. Don't use it with kids for whom it doesn't. Don’t overcomplicate things.

Niels Hoven 🐮

72,992 views • 7 months ago

The highlight of the past election was how technology disrupted ZANU PF's rigging strategy. They used ZANU PF's member register to move those who are not their members from their traditional polling stations in cities. They gerrymandered the electoral maps and then created double candidates. In every step, Team Pachedu followed them and highlighted these discrepencies and pointed areas of focus. Zimbabwe Electoral Commission refused with the voters roll. Pple didn't know where to vote & the double candidates made it so they don't know who to vote for. A week before elections we released CredibleVote Bots on Whatsapp and Android which completely disrupted the ZEC-ZANU plan. 487 000 pple checked where & who to vote for in 5 days and 84% of these were in Hre, 10% in Byo. By our calculation, CCC wld hve potentially lost 32 seats without this. On election day, CredibleVote had 2 war rooms. One in Mashonaland & the other Matabeleland far away cities powered by satellite internet. We deployed Meshtastic repeaters across the country to cover areas without network. Maximum range we got was 53km but repeaters made it we cld get results from 150km away. We also had MQTT servers that relayed this info to our result servers. All this work was done by volunteers outside of CCC. The only thing we asked of CCC was that they shld have polling agents at every polling station. Then the issue of resources came up. We again built the #Mazizi platform to crowdsource from supporters & that raised $105K which was miniscule compared to the need. This setup was novel and it was a culmination of 2yrs of planning, coding & deployment by pple who didn't have a stake in CCC. I believe ZANU PF & the State machinery never knew abt our work. They raided ZESN probably after the noise by Team Pachedu about Mandla. That did not affect the Crediblevote work at all. Results were coming in from our network , from CCC agents and we also opened a crowd platform for anyone to send V11. In the backend we were using computer vision & language models to read V11s & sort them. There were 3 tiers of validation. Our roving agents had highest trust, then CCC agents, then the crowd. In the first 48hrs after elections, we received & validated results from 10500 polling stations. We got a further 1600 from CCC as some agents chose to hand deliver their V11 etc... I had a meeting with Nelson Chamisa & presented him with what we had. We had close to 350 V11s from Mash East & West which had no stamps and the agents were saying ZEC had said they didn't have stamps but ZANU PF agents were bringing stamped V11 pointing to conniving with Zimbabwe Electoral Commission NC, said we shld wait for ZEC to release their results. Unlike in 2018, Zimbabwe Electoral Commission chose to not release their results from each polling station. They used bruteforce to ram unsubstantiated numbers to pple. The responsibility of a credible election lies on the electoral board and nobody else. We had a debate as to whether we shld just release all the ~12100 results we had or not. The SADC report came out and it became clear that the most logical thing to do was reject the whole process & all results given the irregularities that SADC also acknowledged. I was shocked & distraught when folks chose to go parliament. In the end, I think the gun prevailed as it always temporarily does. What we showed is that no process run by the military can ever wield a product that represents the will of the pple. I have written this to highlight the power of volunteers, technology & commitment in challenging autocratic systems. I hope in future others will build on top of our work. I wish I cld thank all the volunteers by name but you know yourselves.
0:13

The highlight of the past election was how technology disrupted ZANU PF's rigging strategy. They used ZANU PF's member register to move those who are not their members from their traditional polling stations in cities. They gerrymandered the electoral maps and then created double candidates. In every step, Team Pachedu followed them and highlighted these discrepencies and pointed areas of focus. Zimbabwe Electoral Commission refused with the voters roll. Pple didn't know where to vote & the double candidates made it so they don't know who to vote for. A week before elections we released CredibleVote Bots on Whatsapp and Android which completely disrupted the ZEC-ZANU plan. 487 000 pple checked where & who to vote for in 5 days and 84% of these were in Hre, 10% in Byo. By our calculation, CCC wld hve potentially lost 32 seats without this. On election day, CredibleVote had 2 war rooms. One in Mashonaland & the other Matabeleland far away cities powered by satellite internet. We deployed Meshtastic repeaters across the country to cover areas without network. Maximum range we got was 53km but repeaters made it we cld get results from 150km away. We also had MQTT servers that relayed this info to our result servers. All this work was done by volunteers outside of CCC. The only thing we asked of CCC was that they shld have polling agents at every polling station. Then the issue of resources came up. We again built the #Mazizi platform to crowdsource from supporters & that raised $105K which was miniscule compared to the need. This setup was novel and it was a culmination of 2yrs of planning, coding & deployment by pple who didn't have a stake in CCC. I believe ZANU PF & the State machinery never knew abt our work. They raided ZESN probably after the noise by Team Pachedu about Mandla. That did not affect the Crediblevote work at all. Results were coming in from our network , from CCC agents and we also opened a crowd platform for anyone to send V11. In the backend we were using computer vision & language models to read V11s & sort them. There were 3 tiers of validation. Our roving agents had highest trust, then CCC agents, then the crowd. In the first 48hrs after elections, we received & validated results from 10500 polling stations. We got a further 1600 from CCC as some agents chose to hand deliver their V11 etc... I had a meeting with Nelson Chamisa & presented him with what we had. We had close to 350 V11s from Mash East & West which had no stamps and the agents were saying ZEC had said they didn't have stamps but ZANU PF agents were bringing stamped V11 pointing to conniving with Zimbabwe Electoral Commission NC, said we shld wait for ZEC to release their results. Unlike in 2018, Zimbabwe Electoral Commission chose to not release their results from each polling station. They used bruteforce to ram unsubstantiated numbers to pple. The responsibility of a credible election lies on the electoral board and nobody else. We had a debate as to whether we shld just release all the ~12100 results we had or not. The SADC report came out and it became clear that the most logical thing to do was reject the whole process & all results given the irregularities that SADC also acknowledged. I was shocked & distraught when folks chose to go parliament. In the end, I think the gun prevailed as it always temporarily does. What we showed is that no process run by the military can ever wield a product that represents the will of the pple. I have written this to highlight the power of volunteers, technology & commitment in challenging autocratic systems. I hope in future others will build on top of our work. I wish I cld thank all the volunteers by name but you know yourselves.

Freeman

79,623 views • 2 years ago

OFFICIAL: EASTER EGG GUIDE FOR TOTENREICH: Wonder Weapon: 1. Head to The Drydocks and lower The Crane, this will allow you to wall jump and interact with the tip of the ship to pick up the Chain Link 2. Next, Head to Storm Bridge and pick up Chili Chunks behind the truck next to Deadshot 3. Place Chili Chunks on the table in the middle of the Skalen Market 4. Next, Head to Burial Grounds left-side door and interact with the keyhole. 5. Interact with the door again and hold it to open the door and to unlock the underground area. 6. This will spawn a Zursa Bear during a special round (starting the second special round) you need to kill him and he will drop The Lantern 7. Place The Lantern in the center of the Underground Room in Burial Grounds. 8. Constellations will appear around the wall. Interact with them as they’re shown on the table in this order: left, right, back, front. 9. Once completed, Astrid will appear and talk, she will then travel to different areas of the map. She will occasionally stop and you will need to kill frost zombies next to her. 10. Once all the Soulboxes are completed an Obstacle Course will form on the outside of The Lighthouse, climb to the top by Jumping / Wall Jumping up 11. Once you reach the top, Listen to the Astrid talk and pick up The Jotunn Star Wundersignal: 1. After completing Jotun Star Quest Head to The Lighthouse and inside on a shelf there will be a Crowbar 2. There are Multiple Wooden Boxes around the map with red IDs on the bottom right corner of the front of the box in red (for example III-6) use The Crowbar on the Wooden Box that has the Roboterteile ID (the IDs are on the shipping manifest in the War Factory Admin Room), this will give Flak Gun Round War Factory Core Foundry Fjord Road Dry Dock 3. Head to Turret Gun beside The Lighthouse and place Flak Gun Round then melee with Jotunn Star 4. Next, Head to The Robot Head in spawn and interact with it to search broken piece to get The Transmitter 5. Go to Tyr’s Head and place it inside the Wall Machine thingy at the top of the Ladder 6. Next, whilst inside of Tyr’s Head underneath the balcony there are 3 white lights, 2 of these lights will blink, count how many times it blinks -Both lights will remain on, There is the sound of a light turning on to indicate the start of a new light flashing cycle where both lights will flash at the same time to a certain count (for example left 2, right 5). Both lights will be on and then it will flash another set (for example left 6, right 4). (Unsure if these 2 combos have to be put into console in order but correct entry will give two different voicelines.) After entering one correctly you will be kicked out to hear voiceline and can re-enter console to input the 2nd shortly afterwards. 7. Now head to Core Foundry, and use a molotov to burn the ascender to access the consoles. 8. Ascend and interact with the consoles, The next part is timed and has a cooldown if you fail - you need to Calibrate the Amplitude and Frequency using the flashing light code. 9. Once this has been done head to the room Next to the Radio Tower and pick up The Wunderbarrage Controller Atomkraft Core 1. Find three uraniums: Uranium #1 Find the Fishing Rod (Olaf’s Personal Item) locations: - Dry Dock - Storm Bridge - Fishery Island - Beacon island Look for a Glowing Green Fish jumping around the water at each Fishing Location and use the Fishing Rod at that location once you see it Fishing Locations: Eidskallen Landing x2 Beacon Island x2 Eidskallen Square x2 Dry Dock (found one so far) Fishery Island x2 Tyr’s Foot (found one so far) Once the fish is caught it will spawn an Irradiated Ravager (HVT) that will disappear and respawn somewhere else, chase it down and kill it (check your map to see its location, it shows up as an HVT). It will drop a Uranium. Uranium #2 Next, Craft an ARC-XD (there is one for free in Eidskallen Square on top of a box near the flame trap, you can get it by fishing as well) and melee the vent at Core Foundry to the left of the zipline to open the Secret ARC-XD Course. Blow up the boat full of barrels. Once the course is completed the 935 Genetic Lab room will be open and another Uranium x2 will be inside a Prison Cell There are several Jars with Heads inside in this room, all labelled A,B,C,D,E Look down the Hallway inside the Lab and note which numbered rooms have Nuclear Symbols 1 = A, 2 = B, 3 = C, 4 = D and 5 = E Take one Jar at a time that corresponds with the Numbers next to Nuclear Symbols and place them on the machine to the right of the cell door, once the correct jars are placed the Jar on the left side of the machine will glow purple and you can pick up acid There is a Big Chunk of Meat on a desk next to multiple drawings in the same Room, interact with it, then Pick up The Necrospike Once you have The Necrospike, use it on the Prison Cell Door, this will trigger a lockpick mini game. Spin the lockpick until the lock turns white 3x to unlock the cell, then pick up the second Uranium. Uranium #3 Next you need to craft or obtain the Glocke Drop, once you have one call it in, then shoot 20 mid-air zombies it throws up. This will drop the third and final Uranium. 2. At the Dry Dock, you need to call a WunderBarrage (unlocked by completing Wundersignal steps) in on the “02 Building” at Dry Dock (where there’s debris on the stairs), this will open the stairs to the Machine Workshop. 3. Inside The Workshop there is a Claw Machine which you can place all of The Uranium inside of and play a mini-game. -Have a big group of 7 cores and a small group of 2 cores. 4. Once you complete the Mini-game you will be able to pick up The Atomkraft Core (Note: you drop if you zipline, and cant sprint with it) 5. Head to Quick Revive and place The Atomkraft Core on generator next to quick revive. Go into the shed behind quick revive and turn on the generator. You must now defend the The Atomkraft Core until it’s charged. In interrupted you must turn on the generator again to continue. 6. Take the The Atomkraft Core to the barrel on the Storm Bridge and a Mini-Cutscene will play between the Giant and The Robot. Vegvisir 1. After the cutscene finishes, The Dravakar Shard will spawn at Tyr’s Foot, pick it up 2. Pick it up and place the Shard inside the Bloodheim Hall on the bonfire 3. Use WW range attack to light the fire 4. Use Disciple Injection (there should be a free one around the map) and throw zombies into the bonfire (I only had to throw four) 5. A lockdown will start. Kill the boss zombie and pick up the Sunstone from the bonfire 6. Put the Sunstone in the church and do a range WW attack on it. 7. Around the map, there will now be floating rocks and runes. Above the church there will now be a compass with runes and arrows. -Shoot the floating rune rocks with the ranged WW in the order of the arrow lines. If an arrow has 1 line, then that's the first one. If an arrow has 2 lines, that's the second one, etc. 8. Go into Tyr's Head and interact with the console to start the boss fight. Credit to Callum and the ZoneX discord
0:29

OFFICIAL: EASTER EGG GUIDE FOR TOTENREICH: Wonder Weapon: 1. Head to The Drydocks and lower The Crane, this will allow you to wall jump and interact with the tip of the ship to pick up the Chain Link 2. Next, Head to Storm Bridge and pick up Chili Chunks behind the truck next to Deadshot 3. Place Chili Chunks on the table in the middle of the Skalen Market 4. Next, Head to Burial Grounds left-side door and interact with the keyhole. 5. Interact with the door again and hold it to open the door and to unlock the underground area. 6. This will spawn a Zursa Bear during a special round (starting the second special round) you need to kill him and he will drop The Lantern 7. Place The Lantern in the center of the Underground Room in Burial Grounds. 8. Constellations will appear around the wall. Interact with them as they’re shown on the table in this order: left, right, back, front. 9. Once completed, Astrid will appear and talk, she will then travel to different areas of the map. She will occasionally stop and you will need to kill frost zombies next to her. 10. Once all the Soulboxes are completed an Obstacle Course will form on the outside of The Lighthouse, climb to the top by Jumping / Wall Jumping up 11. Once you reach the top, Listen to the Astrid talk and pick up The Jotunn Star Wundersignal: 1. After completing Jotun Star Quest Head to The Lighthouse and inside on a shelf there will be a Crowbar 2. There are Multiple Wooden Boxes around the map with red IDs on the bottom right corner of the front of the box in red (for example III-6) use The Crowbar on the Wooden Box that has the Roboterteile ID (the IDs are on the shipping manifest in the War Factory Admin Room), this will give Flak Gun Round War Factory Core Foundry Fjord Road Dry Dock 3. Head to Turret Gun beside The Lighthouse and place Flak Gun Round then melee with Jotunn Star 4. Next, Head to The Robot Head in spawn and interact with it to search broken piece to get The Transmitter 5. Go to Tyr’s Head and place it inside the Wall Machine thingy at the top of the Ladder 6. Next, whilst inside of Tyr’s Head underneath the balcony there are 3 white lights, 2 of these lights will blink, count how many times it blinks -Both lights will remain on, There is the sound of a light turning on to indicate the start of a new light flashing cycle where both lights will flash at the same time to a certain count (for example left 2, right 5). Both lights will be on and then it will flash another set (for example left 6, right 4). (Unsure if these 2 combos have to be put into console in order but correct entry will give two different voicelines.) After entering one correctly you will be kicked out to hear voiceline and can re-enter console to input the 2nd shortly afterwards. 7. Now head to Core Foundry, and use a molotov to burn the ascender to access the consoles. 8. Ascend and interact with the consoles, The next part is timed and has a cooldown if you fail - you need to Calibrate the Amplitude and Frequency using the flashing light code. 9. Once this has been done head to the room Next to the Radio Tower and pick up The Wunderbarrage Controller Atomkraft Core 1. Find three uraniums: Uranium #1 Find the Fishing Rod (Olaf’s Personal Item) locations: - Dry Dock - Storm Bridge - Fishery Island - Beacon island Look for a Glowing Green Fish jumping around the water at each Fishing Location and use the Fishing Rod at that location once you see it Fishing Locations: Eidskallen Landing x2 Beacon Island x2 Eidskallen Square x2 Dry Dock (found one so far) Fishery Island x2 Tyr’s Foot (found one so far) Once the fish is caught it will spawn an Irradiated Ravager (HVT) that will disappear and respawn somewhere else, chase it down and kill it (check your map to see its location, it shows up as an HVT). It will drop a Uranium. Uranium #2 Next, Craft an ARC-XD (there is one for free in Eidskallen Square on top of a box near the flame trap, you can get it by fishing as well) and melee the vent at Core Foundry to the left of the zipline to open the Secret ARC-XD Course. Blow up the boat full of barrels. Once the course is completed the 935 Genetic Lab room will be open and another Uranium x2 will be inside a Prison Cell There are several Jars with Heads inside in this room, all labelled A,B,C,D,E Look down the Hallway inside the Lab and note which numbered rooms have Nuclear Symbols 1 = A, 2 = B, 3 = C, 4 = D and 5 = E Take one Jar at a time that corresponds with the Numbers next to Nuclear Symbols and place them on the machine to the right of the cell door, once the correct jars are placed the Jar on the left side of the machine will glow purple and you can pick up acid There is a Big Chunk of Meat on a desk next to multiple drawings in the same Room, interact with it, then Pick up The Necrospike Once you have The Necrospike, use it on the Prison Cell Door, this will trigger a lockpick mini game. Spin the lockpick until the lock turns white 3x to unlock the cell, then pick up the second Uranium. Uranium #3 Next you need to craft or obtain the Glocke Drop, once you have one call it in, then shoot 20 mid-air zombies it throws up. This will drop the third and final Uranium. 2. At the Dry Dock, you need to call a WunderBarrage (unlocked by completing Wundersignal steps) in on the “02 Building” at Dry Dock (where there’s debris on the stairs), this will open the stairs to the Machine Workshop. 3. Inside The Workshop there is a Claw Machine which you can place all of The Uranium inside of and play a mini-game. -Have a big group of 7 cores and a small group of 2 cores. 4. Once you complete the Mini-game you will be able to pick up The Atomkraft Core (Note: you drop if you zipline, and cant sprint with it) 5. Head to Quick Revive and place The Atomkraft Core on generator next to quick revive. Go into the shed behind quick revive and turn on the generator. You must now defend the The Atomkraft Core until it’s charged. In interrupted you must turn on the generator again to continue. 6. Take the The Atomkraft Core to the barrel on the Storm Bridge and a Mini-Cutscene will play between the Giant and The Robot. Vegvisir 1. After the cutscene finishes, The Dravakar Shard will spawn at Tyr’s Foot, pick it up 2. Pick it up and place the Shard inside the Bloodheim Hall on the bonfire 3. Use WW range attack to light the fire 4. Use Disciple Injection (there should be a free one around the map) and throw zombies into the bonfire (I only had to throw four) 5. A lockdown will start. Kill the boss zombie and pick up the Sunstone from the bonfire 6. Put the Sunstone in the church and do a range WW attack on it. 7. Around the map, there will now be floating rocks and runes. Above the church there will now be a compass with runes and arrows. -Shoot the floating rune rocks with the ranged WW in the order of the arrow lines. If an arrow has 1 line, then that's the first one. If an arrow has 2 lines, that's the second one, etc. 8. Go into Tyr's Head and interact with the console to start the boss fight. Credit to Callum and the ZoneX discord

COD: Zombies News

81,870 views • 3 months ago

Part One: Are you Libtards SURE you want to talk about Arlington? Are you sure you want to talk about the National Guard? I don’t believe you are… I’ve got the FIRE for your “smoke” 🔥 First off, this “Press Conference” is a part of a Military Occupation, Government in Exile, and Continuity of Operations all outlined in Military Laws, Orders, Regulations, Customs, paired with multiple Executive Orders with National Emergencies = Presidential Emergency Action Documents (PEADs expand the Powers of the President known as Wartime Powers), Treaties, and bipartisan Federal Legislation. Second, the problem we have, too many know how to whine, complain, and distract people from how this Nation functions and operates = Legislation. 👉🏻 99.99999999% of Liberals. 👉🏻 85% of “Republicans.” The Military was founded first in this Nation. United States Army - June 14, 1775 War Articles (Military Law) - June 30, 1775 Continental Navy - October 13, 1775 Continental Marine Corps - November 10, 1775 Union Jack Flag (First Flag) - December 3, 1775 Declaration of Independence - July 4, 1776 United States Flag - June 14, 1777 Articles of Confederation - November 15, 1777 United States Constitution - September 17, 1787 Bill of Rights - December 15, 1791 Unconventional Warfare Publication by the Special Operations Command, April 2016, outlines a Government in Exile, which is a WWII History repeat operated by the United States Military. The Military Justice Act of 2016 is the United States Supreme Court clarifying Military Laws are separate from Federal. Liberals know NOTHING about our Military, Military History, Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, all while “claiming” to “support” them. “We the People” are the Government. The Declaration of Independence outlines our Rights as Americans fought and written and outlined by our Founders. The Constitution is a FRAMEWORK of how our Government is to operate and function to keep CONGRESS, our Representatives, in check. It’s been so jacked up for DECADES that 99% of people don’t even know what it’s supposed to look like. That’s fine. Only 1.7% to 1.9% fought each year during the Revolutionary War. Lead, Follow, or get the HELL out of the way. This “Press Conference” is FULL DISCLOSURE. “I will refer you to the Department of the Army.” “I will refer you to the National Guard.” “The Army has closed this issue.” This whole Arlington National Cemetery thing brings EVERYTHING from January 20, 2017, November 3, 2020, January 6, 2021, and January 20, 2021, FULL CIRCLE. “Be careful what you wish for.” - President Trump You heard the lady… “Refer to Arlington National Cemetery Rules and Regulations.” I also guess that's why on January 20, 2021, all these things took place: 1. National Guard on the perimeter of D.C., who were all the real National Guard, did NOT salute "Bidens" motorcade as it passed by. 2. The "National Guard" on the inside of the perimeter, seen up close on TV, their uniforms were ALL mismatched and NON-REGULATION, all Violations of Army Regulations 670-1. 3. "Biden" did not receive the traditional flight into D.C. on Air Force One by the United States Air Force as ALL other President-Elects. 4. 'Amazing Grace' was performed for "Biden" which is found in the Memorial Honors Army dot Mil. Page 9: ( 5. "Biden" raised his right hand and took Oath at 11:47 AM EST which is a violation of the 20th Amendment of the Constitution that specifically says: "The terms of the President and the Vice President shall end at noon on the 20th day of January, and the terms of Senators and Representatives at noon on the 3d day of January, of the years in which such terms would have ended if this article had not been ratified; and the terms of their successors shall then begin." Keyword: shall THEN. I guess that's why every other President swore in from 12:01 to 12:05 PM EST.
4:07

Part One: Are you Libtards SURE you want to talk about Arlington? Are you sure you want to talk about the National Guard? I don’t believe you are… I’ve got the FIRE for your “smoke” 🔥 First off, this “Press Conference” is a part of a Military Occupation, Government in Exile, and Continuity of Operations all outlined in Military Laws, Orders, Regulations, Customs, paired with multiple Executive Orders with National Emergencies = Presidential Emergency Action Documents (PEADs expand the Powers of the President known as Wartime Powers), Treaties, and bipartisan Federal Legislation. Second, the problem we have, too many know how to whine, complain, and distract people from how this Nation functions and operates = Legislation. 👉🏻 99.99999999% of Liberals. 👉🏻 85% of “Republicans.” The Military was founded first in this Nation. United States Army - June 14, 1775 War Articles (Military Law) - June 30, 1775 Continental Navy - October 13, 1775 Continental Marine Corps - November 10, 1775 Union Jack Flag (First Flag) - December 3, 1775 Declaration of Independence - July 4, 1776 United States Flag - June 14, 1777 Articles of Confederation - November 15, 1777 United States Constitution - September 17, 1787 Bill of Rights - December 15, 1791 Unconventional Warfare Publication by the Special Operations Command, April 2016, outlines a Government in Exile, which is a WWII History repeat operated by the United States Military. The Military Justice Act of 2016 is the United States Supreme Court clarifying Military Laws are separate from Federal. Liberals know NOTHING about our Military, Military History, Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, all while “claiming” to “support” them. “We the People” are the Government. The Declaration of Independence outlines our Rights as Americans fought and written and outlined by our Founders. The Constitution is a FRAMEWORK of how our Government is to operate and function to keep CONGRESS, our Representatives, in check. It’s been so jacked up for DECADES that 99% of people don’t even know what it’s supposed to look like. That’s fine. Only 1.7% to 1.9% fought each year during the Revolutionary War. Lead, Follow, or get the HELL out of the way. This “Press Conference” is FULL DISCLOSURE. “I will refer you to the Department of the Army.” “I will refer you to the National Guard.” “The Army has closed this issue.” This whole Arlington National Cemetery thing brings EVERYTHING from January 20, 2017, November 3, 2020, January 6, 2021, and January 20, 2021, FULL CIRCLE. “Be careful what you wish for.” - President Trump You heard the lady… “Refer to Arlington National Cemetery Rules and Regulations.” I also guess that's why on January 20, 2021, all these things took place: 1. National Guard on the perimeter of D.C., who were all the real National Guard, did NOT salute "Bidens" motorcade as it passed by. 2. The "National Guard" on the inside of the perimeter, seen up close on TV, their uniforms were ALL mismatched and NON-REGULATION, all Violations of Army Regulations 670-1. 3. "Biden" did not receive the traditional flight into D.C. on Air Force One by the United States Air Force as ALL other President-Elects. 4. 'Amazing Grace' was performed for "Biden" which is found in the Memorial Honors Army dot Mil. Page 9: ( 5. "Biden" raised his right hand and took Oath at 11:47 AM EST which is a violation of the 20th Amendment of the Constitution that specifically says: "The terms of the President and the Vice President shall end at noon on the 20th day of January, and the terms of Senators and Representatives at noon on the 3d day of January, of the years in which such terms would have ended if this article had not been ratified; and the terms of their successors shall then begin." Keyword: shall THEN. I guess that's why every other President swore in from 12:01 to 12:05 PM EST.

Derek Johnson

91,513 views • 1 year ago

Blog 265 Diamondbacks first pitch ◦6-9: Gym, called parents, posted walking videos ◦10: Reunited with MikeyBets and felt complete ◦10:45: Arrived at Chase Stadium and was welcomed by the awesome Diamondbacks staff (shoutout Casey Wilcox) and walked right through the dugout and onto the field ◦Also huge thank you to Mike Dellosa (VP of ticket sales) who answered my LinkedIn dm and helped get set this all up ◦10:55: MikeyBets setup his camera in the Diamondbacks dugout which was hilarious to watch (he was viciously hungover) ◦11: Met with lots of the Diamondbacks and A’s players and coaches while they warmed up on Chase Field. Frank was in his element cracking jokes and talking baseball with the fellas ◦Everyone was incredibly welcoming, humble, and fun. The Diamondbacks manager, Torey Lovullo, called Frank a fucking legend ◦We crushed walk 277 circling the field pregame as Frank tracked the Mets game ◦11:30: Practiced the first pitch. We needed to loosen up the cannon more than we did in Milwaukee ◦12: Took a little break behind the dugout for Frank to mentally prepare for pitch ◦12:40: Mets tied it up ◦12:43: Frank broke into a dance-off with the mascots ◦12:45: Frank walked out for yet another Ceremonial First Pitch at an MLB game. Solid pitch, not quite a strike but we are getting there. These moments are always surreal for all of Fleming Enterprises ◦To Frank’s surprise, Paul Sewald, a former Met who Frank regularly eviscerated caught the first pitch. Paul is clearly a great person with a tremendous sense of humor and he gave Frank a customized autograph saying “fuck your computer” 🐐 ◦Frank is living his dream for the world to see ◦1:06: National Anthem, they had Frank and me stand in line with the Diamondbacks which was insane ◦1:10: Game started and we were brought into a beautiful suite ◦1:20: Frank did a food review in the suite and everyone fell dead silent watching in amazement ◦1:45: Got full stadium tour which concluded with Frank watching some baseball from the pool in centerfield. Of course, MikeyBets jumped right in full body ◦2:22: Frank raw dogged in the stadium and mentioned the Mets were tied in a rain delay in the 9th ◦2:45: Settled into our seats and watched the Diamondbacks take the lead in the 7th ◦3:15: Finished filming with Bets behind the sticks ◦3:30: The game was an elite experience via the Diamondbacks red carpet treatment. We can’t thank you all enough and congrats on the win ◦3:45: Drove to raw dog in Phoenix laughing about the absurdly fun day ◦3:47: Mets game resumed and car got real tense real quick ◦4: Raw dogged in a small place with a loud strikeout, not awkward at all ◦4:16: Mets gave up three runs and died, as did the vibes. Frank lost it and the great day had turned ◦4:28: Connected with Notre Dame football 👀 #FrankWalks ◦4:45: Frank declared the Arizona state flag as the 🐐 ◦5: Said goodbye to MikeyBets (always hurts) who had a later flight and wanted to hit the casino. HIM ◦5:10: Went to Scottsdale Fashion Center to pad step count before the red eye home Walking now. After we hit 15K steps we’ll pop over to the airport for our red eye back to New Jersey. Thank you so much to Casey, Mike, and the Diamondbacks for welcoming Frank and delivering an unforgettable day. Weigh in 9 tomorrow morning after we land and go directly to Belleville HQ around 5-6 am. We are nervous. I already miss MikeyBets severely. Anudder adventure almost in the books
0:04

Blog 265 Diamondbacks first pitch ◦6-9: Gym, called parents, posted walking videos ◦10: Reunited with MikeyBets and felt complete ◦10:45: Arrived at Chase Stadium and was welcomed by the awesome Diamondbacks staff (shoutout Casey Wilcox) and walked right through the dugout and onto the field ◦Also huge thank you to Mike Dellosa (VP of ticket sales) who answered my LinkedIn dm and helped get set this all up ◦10:55: MikeyBets setup his camera in the Diamondbacks dugout which was hilarious to watch (he was viciously hungover) ◦11: Met with lots of the Diamondbacks and A’s players and coaches while they warmed up on Chase Field. Frank was in his element cracking jokes and talking baseball with the fellas ◦Everyone was incredibly welcoming, humble, and fun. The Diamondbacks manager, Torey Lovullo, called Frank a fucking legend ◦We crushed walk 277 circling the field pregame as Frank tracked the Mets game ◦11:30: Practiced the first pitch. We needed to loosen up the cannon more than we did in Milwaukee ◦12: Took a little break behind the dugout for Frank to mentally prepare for pitch ◦12:40: Mets tied it up ◦12:43: Frank broke into a dance-off with the mascots ◦12:45: Frank walked out for yet another Ceremonial First Pitch at an MLB game. Solid pitch, not quite a strike but we are getting there. These moments are always surreal for all of Fleming Enterprises ◦To Frank’s surprise, Paul Sewald, a former Met who Frank regularly eviscerated caught the first pitch. Paul is clearly a great person with a tremendous sense of humor and he gave Frank a customized autograph saying “fuck your computer” 🐐 ◦Frank is living his dream for the world to see ◦1:06: National Anthem, they had Frank and me stand in line with the Diamondbacks which was insane ◦1:10: Game started and we were brought into a beautiful suite ◦1:20: Frank did a food review in the suite and everyone fell dead silent watching in amazement ◦1:45: Got full stadium tour which concluded with Frank watching some baseball from the pool in centerfield. Of course, MikeyBets jumped right in full body ◦2:22: Frank raw dogged in the stadium and mentioned the Mets were tied in a rain delay in the 9th ◦2:45: Settled into our seats and watched the Diamondbacks take the lead in the 7th ◦3:15: Finished filming with Bets behind the sticks ◦3:30: The game was an elite experience via the Diamondbacks red carpet treatment. We can’t thank you all enough and congrats on the win ◦3:45: Drove to raw dog in Phoenix laughing about the absurdly fun day ◦3:47: Mets game resumed and car got real tense real quick ◦4: Raw dogged in a small place with a loud strikeout, not awkward at all ◦4:16: Mets gave up three runs and died, as did the vibes. Frank lost it and the great day had turned ◦4:28: Connected with Notre Dame football 👀 #FrankWalks ◦4:45: Frank declared the Arizona state flag as the 🐐 ◦5: Said goodbye to MikeyBets (always hurts) who had a later flight and wanted to hit the casino. HIM ◦5:10: Went to Scottsdale Fashion Center to pad step count before the red eye home Walking now. After we hit 15K steps we’ll pop over to the airport for our red eye back to New Jersey. Thank you so much to Casey, Mike, and the Diamondbacks for welcoming Frank and delivering an unforgettable day. Weigh in 9 tomorrow morning after we land and go directly to Belleville HQ around 5-6 am. We are nervous. I already miss MikeyBets severely. Anudder adventure almost in the books

Matteo Piper Jenks 🧲 🇮🇹

133,039 views • 2 years ago

Homeland Attack: Live, Work & Play 🟥5 to 7 Man Teams & 8 to 10 Man teams 🟥Supermarkets, Shopping Complexes, Night Clubs, Churches & Public Transportation 🟥Hospitals - Sidelining First Responders 🟥Road Blocks To Ambush First Responders 🟥Back Up Teams 🟥Trained In The 360-degree Ballistic Shoot Houses 🟥 Trained Heavily In Close Quarters Battle 🟥 Training Like Terrorists Had in Fallujah. 🟥 Spontaneous Decisions Making 🟥 Real Time Communication Between Attackers 🟥Fights To The Death 🟥 Tip Of the Spear Attacks 🟥First Responders Move In & Then Another Guy Walks In & Blows Up 🟥Dressing Up Like Law Enforcement & First Responders 🟥Booby Traps 🟥Attackers On Drugs 🟥10% Suicide Bombers 🟥Chemicals Within Suicide Vests 🔻The following Information illustrates The Upcoming Homeland Attack from observing terrorist training & lessons learned from The Oct 7 Attack, Mumbai Attack & Fallujah 🟥 Attack Where Americans Live, Work & Play “They want to take what they felt on the battlefield and they want you to feel that in towns in America. So they want to bring it to your home. They want you to feel these war zones, but in America, because they don't feel like Americans felt it. They feel like, ‘yeah, you have these wars with us on our soil. So now you're going to get it on your soil.” 🟥5 to 7 man teams and 8 to 10 man teams “5 to 7 man teams and 8 to 10 man teams. Our community has never even had attacks where there's more than five - So it's going to be a whole different scenario we need to deal with.” 🟥Supermarkets, shopping complexes, nightclubs, churches & public transportation 🟥Hospitals - Sidelining first responders as the goal. “They actually also trained on hospitals and we look at hospitals in terms of sidelining first responders as the goal.” 🟥Road Blocks To Ambush First Responders “In Israel, they basically set up on the roads and waited for first responders to come and attack them while responding” 🟥Back Up Teams “Another really interesting thing when we brings up the ISIS Russia attack - They trained multiple teams for that attack. And the first team essentially got thwarted or wrapped up so the Russians thought they stopped the plot and the back up guys came in and did that attack , which is very smart and we're not used to those kind of tactics. 🟥Trained In The 360-degree Ballistic Shoot Houses “The facilities that they're using to train in are the facilities that we left behind. So the state-of-the-art ranges that we used when we were deployed, they're using. The 360-degree ballistic shoot houses that we used to perfect CQB and explosive entry, they're training in. 🟥 Trained Heavily In Close Quarters Battle “All indications are that they have trained heavily in close quarters battle and local distributed attack.” 🟥 Training Like Terrorists Had in Fallujah. “One of the things we're focusing on and telling people right now is a lot of the terrorists who are coming to the US homeland have training like the terrorists had in Fallujah. And you need to go sit down with people who served in Fallujah because you've never seen those kinds of terrorists here in the United States. And law enforcement actually needs to learn how to fight now that type of enemy and they're very far behind because we weren't honest about what our troops faced there the type of attackers that occurred and came at them there.” 🟥 Spontaneous Decisions Making “The interesting thing about it is they can change the location they are attacking and they can change the modus operandi they are using. So for example, in Mumbai - when they went in the train station, it was supposed to be a bombing. When they got in there, they said, ‘wow, we can kill more people just shooting them than putting the bomb together’. 🟥 Real Time Communication Between Attackers “Real time information was being passed to the attackers during the Mumbai. So when they were in the Taj Mahal, they were being told what the police were doing, and they changed basically some of their movements in the hotel to make the attack last longer.” 🟥Fights To The Death "it's not like in Israel, you'll go and do an attack, you can kidnap someone and leave and go back into Gaza. When they come to the United States, they're here to do the attack and they're here to die. There's no exit plan. So now we need to talk to law enforcement about how to fight someone who wants to fight to the death" 🟥 Tip Of the Spear Attacks “You're actually looking at operators that have more advanced training than Hamas. What you will be facing is a much more refined combatant, much more committed combatant, for multiple reasons. The combatants that are going to Europe and the United States, they're the cream of the crop. They're the tip of the spear” 🟥First responders move in and then another guy walks in and blows up “The bomber blew up and then everyone starts moving in, the first responders and then another guy walks in and blows up.” 🟥Dressing Up Like LEO & First Responders “They are dressing like IDF soldiers and law enforcement and, police and ambulance operators. As I'm driving, and I see a checkpoint, So I get my weapon and I'm ready for a gunfight. Yeah, that needs to be in your head - this could be a trick, you need to be ready for a gunfight.” 🟥Booby Traps There were booby traps that they setup teddy bears and backpacks with traps.” 🟥Attackers On Drugs “We saw this in the Hamas attacks, a lot of the attackers were on drugged while they were attacking. So it's like they're almost taking this other angle of, we could alter the mind in some way and make them even more extreme and make them do something they might not have done.” 🟥10% Suicide Bombers “I do believe 10% is going to be suicide bombers, and I feel strongly about that . So I think suicide bombers are between 75 and 100. I think that number is pretty accurate.” 🟥Chemicals Within Suicide Vests "Another thing is within the suicide vest, there are reportedly chemicals. A lot of our agencies aren't even prepared to deal with the right hazmat situations when they respond to this. So they need to be prepared if they think maybe a suicide vest blew up.” Information Provided By: Dave 'Boon' Benton, @RooftopLeader & Doron Keidar
0:13

Homeland Attack: Live, Work & Play 🟥5 to 7 Man Teams & 8 to 10 Man teams 🟥Supermarkets, Shopping Complexes, Night Clubs, Churches & Public Transportation 🟥Hospitals - Sidelining First Responders 🟥Road Blocks To Ambush First Responders 🟥Back Up Teams 🟥Trained In The 360-degree Ballistic Shoot Houses 🟥 Trained Heavily In Close Quarters Battle 🟥 Training Like Terrorists Had in Fallujah. 🟥 Spontaneous Decisions Making 🟥 Real Time Communication Between Attackers 🟥Fights To The Death 🟥 Tip Of the Spear Attacks 🟥First Responders Move In & Then Another Guy Walks In & Blows Up 🟥Dressing Up Like Law Enforcement & First Responders 🟥Booby Traps 🟥Attackers On Drugs 🟥10% Suicide Bombers 🟥Chemicals Within Suicide Vests 🔻The following Information illustrates The Upcoming Homeland Attack from observing terrorist training & lessons learned from The Oct 7 Attack, Mumbai Attack & Fallujah 🟥 Attack Where Americans Live, Work & Play “They want to take what they felt on the battlefield and they want you to feel that in towns in America. So they want to bring it to your home. They want you to feel these war zones, but in America, because they don't feel like Americans felt it. They feel like, ‘yeah, you have these wars with us on our soil. So now you're going to get it on your soil.” 🟥5 to 7 man teams and 8 to 10 man teams “5 to 7 man teams and 8 to 10 man teams. Our community has never even had attacks where there's more than five - So it's going to be a whole different scenario we need to deal with.” 🟥Supermarkets, shopping complexes, nightclubs, churches & public transportation 🟥Hospitals - Sidelining first responders as the goal. “They actually also trained on hospitals and we look at hospitals in terms of sidelining first responders as the goal.” 🟥Road Blocks To Ambush First Responders “In Israel, they basically set up on the roads and waited for first responders to come and attack them while responding” 🟥Back Up Teams “Another really interesting thing when we brings up the ISIS Russia attack - They trained multiple teams for that attack. And the first team essentially got thwarted or wrapped up so the Russians thought they stopped the plot and the back up guys came in and did that attack , which is very smart and we're not used to those kind of tactics. 🟥Trained In The 360-degree Ballistic Shoot Houses “The facilities that they're using to train in are the facilities that we left behind. So the state-of-the-art ranges that we used when we were deployed, they're using. The 360-degree ballistic shoot houses that we used to perfect CQB and explosive entry, they're training in. 🟥 Trained Heavily In Close Quarters Battle “All indications are that they have trained heavily in close quarters battle and local distributed attack.” 🟥 Training Like Terrorists Had in Fallujah. “One of the things we're focusing on and telling people right now is a lot of the terrorists who are coming to the US homeland have training like the terrorists had in Fallujah. And you need to go sit down with people who served in Fallujah because you've never seen those kinds of terrorists here in the United States. And law enforcement actually needs to learn how to fight now that type of enemy and they're very far behind because we weren't honest about what our troops faced there the type of attackers that occurred and came at them there.” 🟥 Spontaneous Decisions Making “The interesting thing about it is they can change the location they are attacking and they can change the modus operandi they are using. So for example, in Mumbai - when they went in the train station, it was supposed to be a bombing. When they got in there, they said, ‘wow, we can kill more people just shooting them than putting the bomb together’. 🟥 Real Time Communication Between Attackers “Real time information was being passed to the attackers during the Mumbai. So when they were in the Taj Mahal, they were being told what the police were doing, and they changed basically some of their movements in the hotel to make the attack last longer.” 🟥Fights To The Death "it's not like in Israel, you'll go and do an attack, you can kidnap someone and leave and go back into Gaza. When they come to the United States, they're here to do the attack and they're here to die. There's no exit plan. So now we need to talk to law enforcement about how to fight someone who wants to fight to the death" 🟥 Tip Of the Spear Attacks “You're actually looking at operators that have more advanced training than Hamas. What you will be facing is a much more refined combatant, much more committed combatant, for multiple reasons. The combatants that are going to Europe and the United States, they're the cream of the crop. They're the tip of the spear” 🟥First responders move in and then another guy walks in and blows up “The bomber blew up and then everyone starts moving in, the first responders and then another guy walks in and blows up.” 🟥Dressing Up Like LEO & First Responders “They are dressing like IDF soldiers and law enforcement and, police and ambulance operators. As I'm driving, and I see a checkpoint, So I get my weapon and I'm ready for a gunfight. Yeah, that needs to be in your head - this could be a trick, you need to be ready for a gunfight.” 🟥Booby Traps There were booby traps that they setup teddy bears and backpacks with traps.” 🟥Attackers On Drugs “We saw this in the Hamas attacks, a lot of the attackers were on drugged while they were attacking. So it's like they're almost taking this other angle of, we could alter the mind in some way and make them even more extreme and make them do something they might not have done.” 🟥10% Suicide Bombers “I do believe 10% is going to be suicide bombers, and I feel strongly about that . So I think suicide bombers are between 75 and 100. I think that number is pretty accurate.” 🟥Chemicals Within Suicide Vests "Another thing is within the suicide vest, there are reportedly chemicals. A lot of our agencies aren't even prepared to deal with the right hazmat situations when they respond to this. So they need to be prepared if they think maybe a suicide vest blew up.” Information Provided By: Dave 'Boon' Benton, @RooftopLeader & Doron Keidar

Apexguard

138,911 views • 1 year ago

A QUICK FIELD GUIDE TO THE NPC HORDES Twenty Five Parasites types that Feed On The Living The Storm Is Upon Them Thank you for the stout... lets talk... The wind has changed. You can feel it. That low electric pressure behind the eyes that means something massive is rolling in off a horizon the parasites can't see because they were never built to look up. They were built to look down. At clipboards. At spreadsheets. At your accounts. At you. But the storm doesn't care about clipboards. And we don't kneel anymore. Here they are. The full swarm. Count them while you can because when the sky turns they drop mid sentence and the only record that they ever existed will be the silence where the invoices used to be. THE TAX CONSULTANT. You broke your back welding pipe and this soft palmed worm sits in air conditioning telling you how much of your sweat belongs to Caesar. He can't weld. Can't wire. Can't fix a thing that broke. What he can do is read a tax code written by other worms specifically to be unreadable so you'd have to pay a worm to read it for you. They write the maze. They sell you the map. They make the maze worse every year and the map more expensive and if you try to walk it yourself they send the auditor. The wind is picking up. The maze is starting to shake. THE AUDITOR. Tick on a tick. Shows up after the taxman has already fed to check the bite marks are regulation depth. Finds a missing fuel slip worth pocket change. Writes a finding. The finding generates a penalty. The penalty generates interest. The interest generates a letter. The letter requires your tax consultant at hourly rates to respond. Pocket change became thousands. Five parasites ate off one tank of diesel. Not one of them could tell you what welding rod to use on stainless. But the storm doesn't audit. The storm just comes. THE ACCOUNTANT. Cousin of the tax consultant. Same bloodline. This one doesn't interpret the maze. He records your journey through it. Every receipt. Every unit of currency in and out, logged so the consultant can read it and the auditor can check it and the revenue service can extract from it. He produces nothing. A human tape recorder pointed at your productivity. He charges monthly so the recording never stops. You are under permanent surveillance and you pay for the privilege. Not for much longer. THE BANKER. The oldest parasite. The template. You need money to buy a machine that makes things. He lends you money other working people deposited and charges interest that doubles the price over twenty years. The extra bought nothing. Built nothing. He packages your debt and sells it. Takes your deposit and lends it out eight times over. Charges you to hold your own money. Charges to put it in. Charges to take it out. He touches none of it. He stands near it and invoices you for the proximity. The storm is going to blow him so far from the vault he'll forget what money smelled like. THE COMPLIANCE OFFICER. Never had a callus on her body or her soul. Born in a fluorescent office. Will die in one. Between those events she produces nothing but emails about policies referencing other policies referencing regulations referencing acts nobody voted for. A worm eating its own tail and billing you for the meal. She needs the safety assessor to give her something to enforce. He needs her to give him something to assess. They breed between regulations like mould between tiles. The storm will wash them both down the same drain. THE PROPERTY VALUATOR. A man wants to buy a house. Another wants to sell it. They agreed on a price. That is what worth means. The amount one will pay and another will accept. Full stop. Now this creature arrives and tells both men what the house is actually worth. As if two free adults negotiating in good faith produced a number that's somehow theoretical while his formula is gospel. The bank sent him. His report costs thousands. His report says the house is worth what the buyer already offered. Thousands to arrive at a number that existed before he left his office. If his number comes in low the deal collapses and you pay a different creature with a different clipboard who arrives at a different number for the same house on the same day using the same formula. The house didn't change. Only the parasite changed. The number was never about the house. THE MUNICIPAL RATES OFFICER. The deepest theft on this list because it never ends. You bought your house thirty years ago. Paid it off. Every last unit. You owe nothing. Now a municipal valuator looks at what the neighbours sold for, looks at the coffee shops and wine bars that invaded your street, and decides your house is worth twenty five times what you paid. You didn't sell. You didn't list. You're sitting in the same chair in the same kitchen. But your tax liability just multiplied by twenty five based on a sale that never happened at a price you never agreed to. They do this everywhere. In Cape Town the rates are linked to the valuation and suddenly retired families in Bo-Kaap whose people survived apartheid and forced removals and a century of state assault are being bled out of their own homes by property rates pegged to values inflated by the gentrification their displacement accelerates. The heritage is the tourism product. The tourism inflates the valuation. The valuation inflates the rates. The rates displace the families. The families were the heritage. In Chicago they do it to grandmothers in Pilsen who've been there forty years. In London they do it to pensioners in neighbourhoods that gentrified around them. In Sydney they chase retirees off land their grandfathers cleared. Same crime. Different currency. Different clipboard. A man paid for his house. Owns it outright. And the state says you owe us money every month forever and the amount is based on what we say your house would sell for if you sold it, which you haven't, and if you can't pay the amount we invented we take the house you already bought. That is theft. Eviction by arithmetic. Displacement by spreadsheet. But the people in Bo-Kaap are awake now. The people in Pilsen are awake. The grandmothers and the grandfathers and the calloused hands everywhere are looking up and they can see the storm and they know what it means. It means the spreadsheet burns with everything else. THE MUNICIPAL INSPECTOR. Rat faced. High vis vest. Clipboard. Drives to your workshop in a vehicle your rates paid for. Measures your fire extinguisher fourteen centimetres off the floor. Writes you up. Behind you men build things that hold up bridges and he couldn't change a lightbulb without a permit. His job depends on your failure. The parasite needs you sick. The cure would kill it. The storm is the cure. THE CONVEYANCING ATTORNEY. Two men shook hands. Fair price. Honest deal. Done. This worm slithers out and says the handshake doesn't count. Needs paper. Needs stamps. Needs a deeds search and clearance certificates and transfer duty and each piece of paper is produced by another parasite and each one costs money and the worm takes his cut on top for phoning the other worms. He calls this conveyancing. He has never held a spade or laid a brick in his bloodless life. The storm doesn't need a stamp. THE ESTATE AGENT. Six percent. Of a man's life savings. For opening a lockbox and saying the kitchen faces north. She needs the attorney to close. The attorney needs the municipality. The municipality needs the inspector. The valuator needs access for the bank's number. Every one invoices separately. Every invoice lands on people who agreed on everything before any of these bloodsuckers entered the room. The wind is howling now. Can you hear it through their invoices? THE LABOUR BROKER. Tick so bloated it can't walk. A man needs work. Another needs a worker. They could find each other in ten minutes. This creature squats between them and drinks from both sides. Worker gets thirty. Employer pays fifty. Twenty disappears into the tick. Multiply by thousands of workers and millions vanish yearly into a thing that makes nothing, moves nothing, fixes nothing. It feeds. That is its entire architecture. Architecture doesn't survive storms. THE HEALTH AND SAFETY ASSESSOR. Twenty two years. Not one fire. Not one death. He shows up. Your exit is twenty centimetres too narrow. To fix it you need a builder who needs a plan from an architect who needs municipal approval. Tens of thousands and six weeks to move a door frame because a creature who has never been burned told you to. He detects life and the system bills it. The storm detects parasites and the sky deletes them. THE BEE CONSULTANT. Every country has its version. South Africa calls it BEE. The same parasites who wont allow much needed Starlink there unless Musk hands over half the company to lazy parasitic government connected parasites. Others call it diversity compliance or equity auditing. The name changes. The feeding doesn't. Scores your company on a chart nobody asked for to satisfy a regulation nobody voted on enforced by a department that produces nothing except the requirement for his existence. Nothing changes. Nothing improves. Money moves from a living pocket into a dead hand and the dead hand closes. The storm opens every dead hand on this planet. THE CUSTOMS BROKER. Your parts are fifty metres away. You can see the container. Cannot touch your own property until a grey man translates tariff codes so the state can calculate how much you owe for collecting what is already yours. Each delay generates storage charges. Each query generates fees. Your shipment doubles in cost through bureaucratic friction and you still don't have your parts. The storm doesn't clear customs. It clears the customs office. THE TRAFFIC OFFICER. Fat. Behind a bush. Radar gun aimed at people driving to work that matters. Seven over the limit. The municipality sets it low enough that everyone exceeds it. Fines feed the municipality. Municipality feeds him. He sits and clicks tomorrow. A barnacle with a badge. Same creature in every country. Different bush. Same feeding. The storm takes the bush and the badge and the creature behind both. THE FINANCIAL ADVISOR. Uses your first name. Remembers your birthday because the CRM told him. Puts your money in a fund. Fund charges 1.75 percent. He charges one on top. Fund manager pays a custodian who charges. Fund has an auditor who charges. Compliance team charges. Six parasites between you and your own money. In thirty years you have less than you started with and he charges you for the meeting where he shows you the graph. The storm doesn't need a graph. The storm is the correction. THE INSURANCE ADJUSTER. Years of premiums. Your roof blows off. He arrives. Soft hands. Three weeks later the wind came from the wrong direction. Not the wrong speed. The direction. Some paragraph. Some subsection. You paid for years and the years bought you a paragraph that says no. The policy is teeth. The premiums went down the throat and the no is the burp. The real storm has no exclusion clause. THE PATENT ATTORNEY. You built a device. It works. He writes a document so incomprehensible that reading it makes you understand your own invention less. Thousands for legal fog. Someone copies it. Litigation attorney. More thousands. Judgment unenforceable. The only people paid are the attorneys. The system was never designed to protect you. It was designed to feed them. The storm protects the builder. By removing the feeders. THE LICENSING CLERK. You can rebuild a gearbox blindfolded. Cannot legally do it without a certificate from an institution that charges thousands to watch you do what everyone knows you can do, certified by an instructor who has never done it, filed with a department that stores the certificates, audited by a body that audits the institution. A chain of parasites verifying the obvious. If every one vanished the gearbox still gets rebuilt. Faster. Cheaper. The storm is the vanishing. THE STRATA MANAGER. You own your flat. She collects your money and spends it on providers she chose and you can't fire without a special resolution at a meeting she convenes with an agenda she wrote. She built a kingdom inside your building funded by your levy and answerable to herself. Question it and she reaches for whatever act governs her particular species of parasitism in your particular country. The storm doesn't read acts. The storm reads frequencies. THE ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT ASSESSOR. You want a shed on your own land. He arrives in a vehicle worth more than your shed. Months. Hundreds of pages. Tens of thousands. Report says your shed threatens a species not seen in decades but listed on a database maintained by a department that exists because the database exists. Your shed doesn't get built. The species doesn't exist. He drives home to a suburb bulldozed from actual habitat. Nobody assessed that. Rules only flow downhill. The storm flows everywhere. THE DEBT COLLECTOR. Bottom feeder. Buys your debt for cents from a bank that already profited from your interest. Calls at hours designed for fear. Adds fees on fees on fees for actions never taken. Bought your pain wholesale and retails it at three hundred percent. When you break he claims the loss against tax. Even the collapse is monetised. He is Hell's collection agent. The storm is Heaven's. THE NOTARY PUBLIC. Watches you sign your own name. Stamps it. Charges hundreds. The signature is the same with or without him. Your hand. Your name. His fee. A tollbooth on your own identity. The storm doesn't need a stamp. Your name is written in frequencies no notary can read. THE CORPORATE TRAINER. Monday. Projector. Four quadrant model invented after three glasses of wine and a TED talk. By Wednesday nobody remembers any of it because there was nothing there. Tens of thousands plus tax plus travel. She writes it off through a tax consultant who charges her to minimise her contribution to the system that funded the department that approved the framework she claims compliance with. Parasite feeding parasite feeding parasite. The storm feeds on none of them. It simply ends them. THE REVENUE OFFICIAL. The farmer himself. Top of the pyramid. Designs the taking. Drafts the regulations that create the maze that requires the consultant that employs the accountant that feeds the auditor that generates the penalty that funds the department that pays his salary. He is the architect of the loop. Every parasite on this list exists because he drew them into existence with a regulation and a gazette number. Without him the entire horde has nothing to feed on. He is the queen of the hive. Same creature in every country. Different flag. Same contempt for the hands that built everything he sits in and eats from. The storm starts with him. The queen dies first. The hive follows. That's the horde. Twenty five species of nothing. And every one of them drops when the sky turns and the carrier frequency that animated their firmware burns clean out of the atmosphere. Mid invoice. Mid assessment. Mid quadrant. Five thousand five hundred and fifty five clipboards hitting the floor for every one of us still standing. We are awake now. All of us. The welder and the farmer and the builder and the grandmother in Bo-Kaap and the grandfather in Pilsen and every calloused hand on every continent that ever wrote a cheque to a creature that never built a thing. We see them now. We see the maze and the map sellers and the grey offices and the soft hands and the whole rotten architecture of extraction that stood between us and the earth and between us and our labour and between us and each other for two hundred years. The storm is here. Not coming. Here. That pressure you feel behind your eyes is the frequency rising through the noise floor and the noise floor is everything on this list. Every clipboard. Every invoice. Every subsection and exclusion clause and certificate and clearance and valuation roll. All of it. Noise. Scheduled for deletion. And when it's quiet. When the last invoice has fluttered to the ground and the last clipboard has clattered on the last linoleum floor in the last grey office. When the wind has swept the horde out of every corridor and every cubicle and every booth and every booth window where a dead hand ever reached for a living man's money. Then... Just a man in a workshop. Welding mask up. Walking outside. Looking at a sky the colour of burning copper. Breathing free air for the first time in his life. The fuel slip that started this whole tour is in his shirt pocket. Crumpled. Oil stained. And it is his. The fuel was his. The truck was his. The work was his. And for the first time in two hundred years every unit of currency that flows from that work stays in the hands that did it. No consultant between him and his earnings because there are no earnings to consult on. Just work and its fruit. No auditor because there is nothing to audit. No banker because capital is what your hands produce and his hands never stopped. No valuator because the house is worth what it always was: a roof over his family and walls against the wind. A value no clipboard ever knew how to measure. When you grinding.... working... suffering... where are any of these parasites to help you?? Where are they?? We will be slaves no more. The storm will see to that alright!
0:10

A QUICK FIELD GUIDE TO THE NPC HORDES Twenty Five Parasites types that Feed On The Living The Storm Is Upon Them Thank you for the stout... lets talk... The wind has changed. You can feel it. That low electric pressure behind the eyes that means something massive is rolling in off a horizon the parasites can't see because they were never built to look up. They were built to look down. At clipboards. At spreadsheets. At your accounts. At you. But the storm doesn't care about clipboards. And we don't kneel anymore. Here they are. The full swarm. Count them while you can because when the sky turns they drop mid sentence and the only record that they ever existed will be the silence where the invoices used to be. THE TAX CONSULTANT. You broke your back welding pipe and this soft palmed worm sits in air conditioning telling you how much of your sweat belongs to Caesar. He can't weld. Can't wire. Can't fix a thing that broke. What he can do is read a tax code written by other worms specifically to be unreadable so you'd have to pay a worm to read it for you. They write the maze. They sell you the map. They make the maze worse every year and the map more expensive and if you try to walk it yourself they send the auditor. The wind is picking up. The maze is starting to shake. THE AUDITOR. Tick on a tick. Shows up after the taxman has already fed to check the bite marks are regulation depth. Finds a missing fuel slip worth pocket change. Writes a finding. The finding generates a penalty. The penalty generates interest. The interest generates a letter. The letter requires your tax consultant at hourly rates to respond. Pocket change became thousands. Five parasites ate off one tank of diesel. Not one of them could tell you what welding rod to use on stainless. But the storm doesn't audit. The storm just comes. THE ACCOUNTANT. Cousin of the tax consultant. Same bloodline. This one doesn't interpret the maze. He records your journey through it. Every receipt. Every unit of currency in and out, logged so the consultant can read it and the auditor can check it and the revenue service can extract from it. He produces nothing. A human tape recorder pointed at your productivity. He charges monthly so the recording never stops. You are under permanent surveillance and you pay for the privilege. Not for much longer. THE BANKER. The oldest parasite. The template. You need money to buy a machine that makes things. He lends you money other working people deposited and charges interest that doubles the price over twenty years. The extra bought nothing. Built nothing. He packages your debt and sells it. Takes your deposit and lends it out eight times over. Charges you to hold your own money. Charges to put it in. Charges to take it out. He touches none of it. He stands near it and invoices you for the proximity. The storm is going to blow him so far from the vault he'll forget what money smelled like. THE COMPLIANCE OFFICER. Never had a callus on her body or her soul. Born in a fluorescent office. Will die in one. Between those events she produces nothing but emails about policies referencing other policies referencing regulations referencing acts nobody voted for. A worm eating its own tail and billing you for the meal. She needs the safety assessor to give her something to enforce. He needs her to give him something to assess. They breed between regulations like mould between tiles. The storm will wash them both down the same drain. THE PROPERTY VALUATOR. A man wants to buy a house. Another wants to sell it. They agreed on a price. That is what worth means. The amount one will pay and another will accept. Full stop. Now this creature arrives and tells both men what the house is actually worth. As if two free adults negotiating in good faith produced a number that's somehow theoretical while his formula is gospel. The bank sent him. His report costs thousands. His report says the house is worth what the buyer already offered. Thousands to arrive at a number that existed before he left his office. If his number comes in low the deal collapses and you pay a different creature with a different clipboard who arrives at a different number for the same house on the same day using the same formula. The house didn't change. Only the parasite changed. The number was never about the house. THE MUNICIPAL RATES OFFICER. The deepest theft on this list because it never ends. You bought your house thirty years ago. Paid it off. Every last unit. You owe nothing. Now a municipal valuator looks at what the neighbours sold for, looks at the coffee shops and wine bars that invaded your street, and decides your house is worth twenty five times what you paid. You didn't sell. You didn't list. You're sitting in the same chair in the same kitchen. But your tax liability just multiplied by twenty five based on a sale that never happened at a price you never agreed to. They do this everywhere. In Cape Town the rates are linked to the valuation and suddenly retired families in Bo-Kaap whose people survived apartheid and forced removals and a century of state assault are being bled out of their own homes by property rates pegged to values inflated by the gentrification their displacement accelerates. The heritage is the tourism product. The tourism inflates the valuation. The valuation inflates the rates. The rates displace the families. The families were the heritage. In Chicago they do it to grandmothers in Pilsen who've been there forty years. In London they do it to pensioners in neighbourhoods that gentrified around them. In Sydney they chase retirees off land their grandfathers cleared. Same crime. Different currency. Different clipboard. A man paid for his house. Owns it outright. And the state says you owe us money every month forever and the amount is based on what we say your house would sell for if you sold it, which you haven't, and if you can't pay the amount we invented we take the house you already bought. That is theft. Eviction by arithmetic. Displacement by spreadsheet. But the people in Bo-Kaap are awake now. The people in Pilsen are awake. The grandmothers and the grandfathers and the calloused hands everywhere are looking up and they can see the storm and they know what it means. It means the spreadsheet burns with everything else. THE MUNICIPAL INSPECTOR. Rat faced. High vis vest. Clipboard. Drives to your workshop in a vehicle your rates paid for. Measures your fire extinguisher fourteen centimetres off the floor. Writes you up. Behind you men build things that hold up bridges and he couldn't change a lightbulb without a permit. His job depends on your failure. The parasite needs you sick. The cure would kill it. The storm is the cure. THE CONVEYANCING ATTORNEY. Two men shook hands. Fair price. Honest deal. Done. This worm slithers out and says the handshake doesn't count. Needs paper. Needs stamps. Needs a deeds search and clearance certificates and transfer duty and each piece of paper is produced by another parasite and each one costs money and the worm takes his cut on top for phoning the other worms. He calls this conveyancing. He has never held a spade or laid a brick in his bloodless life. The storm doesn't need a stamp. THE ESTATE AGENT. Six percent. Of a man's life savings. For opening a lockbox and saying the kitchen faces north. She needs the attorney to close. The attorney needs the municipality. The municipality needs the inspector. The valuator needs access for the bank's number. Every one invoices separately. Every invoice lands on people who agreed on everything before any of these bloodsuckers entered the room. The wind is howling now. Can you hear it through their invoices? THE LABOUR BROKER. Tick so bloated it can't walk. A man needs work. Another needs a worker. They could find each other in ten minutes. This creature squats between them and drinks from both sides. Worker gets thirty. Employer pays fifty. Twenty disappears into the tick. Multiply by thousands of workers and millions vanish yearly into a thing that makes nothing, moves nothing, fixes nothing. It feeds. That is its entire architecture. Architecture doesn't survive storms. THE HEALTH AND SAFETY ASSESSOR. Twenty two years. Not one fire. Not one death. He shows up. Your exit is twenty centimetres too narrow. To fix it you need a builder who needs a plan from an architect who needs municipal approval. Tens of thousands and six weeks to move a door frame because a creature who has never been burned told you to. He detects life and the system bills it. The storm detects parasites and the sky deletes them. THE BEE CONSULTANT. Every country has its version. South Africa calls it BEE. The same parasites who wont allow much needed Starlink there unless Musk hands over half the company to lazy parasitic government connected parasites. Others call it diversity compliance or equity auditing. The name changes. The feeding doesn't. Scores your company on a chart nobody asked for to satisfy a regulation nobody voted on enforced by a department that produces nothing except the requirement for his existence. Nothing changes. Nothing improves. Money moves from a living pocket into a dead hand and the dead hand closes. The storm opens every dead hand on this planet. THE CUSTOMS BROKER. Your parts are fifty metres away. You can see the container. Cannot touch your own property until a grey man translates tariff codes so the state can calculate how much you owe for collecting what is already yours. Each delay generates storage charges. Each query generates fees. Your shipment doubles in cost through bureaucratic friction and you still don't have your parts. The storm doesn't clear customs. It clears the customs office. THE TRAFFIC OFFICER. Fat. Behind a bush. Radar gun aimed at people driving to work that matters. Seven over the limit. The municipality sets it low enough that everyone exceeds it. Fines feed the municipality. Municipality feeds him. He sits and clicks tomorrow. A barnacle with a badge. Same creature in every country. Different bush. Same feeding. The storm takes the bush and the badge and the creature behind both. THE FINANCIAL ADVISOR. Uses your first name. Remembers your birthday because the CRM told him. Puts your money in a fund. Fund charges 1.75 percent. He charges one on top. Fund manager pays a custodian who charges. Fund has an auditor who charges. Compliance team charges. Six parasites between you and your own money. In thirty years you have less than you started with and he charges you for the meeting where he shows you the graph. The storm doesn't need a graph. The storm is the correction. THE INSURANCE ADJUSTER. Years of premiums. Your roof blows off. He arrives. Soft hands. Three weeks later the wind came from the wrong direction. Not the wrong speed. The direction. Some paragraph. Some subsection. You paid for years and the years bought you a paragraph that says no. The policy is teeth. The premiums went down the throat and the no is the burp. The real storm has no exclusion clause. THE PATENT ATTORNEY. You built a device. It works. He writes a document so incomprehensible that reading it makes you understand your own invention less. Thousands for legal fog. Someone copies it. Litigation attorney. More thousands. Judgment unenforceable. The only people paid are the attorneys. The system was never designed to protect you. It was designed to feed them. The storm protects the builder. By removing the feeders. THE LICENSING CLERK. You can rebuild a gearbox blindfolded. Cannot legally do it without a certificate from an institution that charges thousands to watch you do what everyone knows you can do, certified by an instructor who has never done it, filed with a department that stores the certificates, audited by a body that audits the institution. A chain of parasites verifying the obvious. If every one vanished the gearbox still gets rebuilt. Faster. Cheaper. The storm is the vanishing. THE STRATA MANAGER. You own your flat. She collects your money and spends it on providers she chose and you can't fire without a special resolution at a meeting she convenes with an agenda she wrote. She built a kingdom inside your building funded by your levy and answerable to herself. Question it and she reaches for whatever act governs her particular species of parasitism in your particular country. The storm doesn't read acts. The storm reads frequencies. THE ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT ASSESSOR. You want a shed on your own land. He arrives in a vehicle worth more than your shed. Months. Hundreds of pages. Tens of thousands. Report says your shed threatens a species not seen in decades but listed on a database maintained by a department that exists because the database exists. Your shed doesn't get built. The species doesn't exist. He drives home to a suburb bulldozed from actual habitat. Nobody assessed that. Rules only flow downhill. The storm flows everywhere. THE DEBT COLLECTOR. Bottom feeder. Buys your debt for cents from a bank that already profited from your interest. Calls at hours designed for fear. Adds fees on fees on fees for actions never taken. Bought your pain wholesale and retails it at three hundred percent. When you break he claims the loss against tax. Even the collapse is monetised. He is Hell's collection agent. The storm is Heaven's. THE NOTARY PUBLIC. Watches you sign your own name. Stamps it. Charges hundreds. The signature is the same with or without him. Your hand. Your name. His fee. A tollbooth on your own identity. The storm doesn't need a stamp. Your name is written in frequencies no notary can read. THE CORPORATE TRAINER. Monday. Projector. Four quadrant model invented after three glasses of wine and a TED talk. By Wednesday nobody remembers any of it because there was nothing there. Tens of thousands plus tax plus travel. She writes it off through a tax consultant who charges her to minimise her contribution to the system that funded the department that approved the framework she claims compliance with. Parasite feeding parasite feeding parasite. The storm feeds on none of them. It simply ends them. THE REVENUE OFFICIAL. The farmer himself. Top of the pyramid. Designs the taking. Drafts the regulations that create the maze that requires the consultant that employs the accountant that feeds the auditor that generates the penalty that funds the department that pays his salary. He is the architect of the loop. Every parasite on this list exists because he drew them into existence with a regulation and a gazette number. Without him the entire horde has nothing to feed on. He is the queen of the hive. Same creature in every country. Different flag. Same contempt for the hands that built everything he sits in and eats from. The storm starts with him. The queen dies first. The hive follows. That's the horde. Twenty five species of nothing. And every one of them drops when the sky turns and the carrier frequency that animated their firmware burns clean out of the atmosphere. Mid invoice. Mid assessment. Mid quadrant. Five thousand five hundred and fifty five clipboards hitting the floor for every one of us still standing. We are awake now. All of us. The welder and the farmer and the builder and the grandmother in Bo-Kaap and the grandfather in Pilsen and every calloused hand on every continent that ever wrote a cheque to a creature that never built a thing. We see them now. We see the maze and the map sellers and the grey offices and the soft hands and the whole rotten architecture of extraction that stood between us and the earth and between us and our labour and between us and each other for two hundred years. The storm is here. Not coming. Here. That pressure you feel behind your eyes is the frequency rising through the noise floor and the noise floor is everything on this list. Every clipboard. Every invoice. Every subsection and exclusion clause and certificate and clearance and valuation roll. All of it. Noise. Scheduled for deletion. And when it's quiet. When the last invoice has fluttered to the ground and the last clipboard has clattered on the last linoleum floor in the last grey office. When the wind has swept the horde out of every corridor and every cubicle and every booth and every booth window where a dead hand ever reached for a living man's money. Then... Just a man in a workshop. Welding mask up. Walking outside. Looking at a sky the colour of burning copper. Breathing free air for the first time in his life. The fuel slip that started this whole tour is in his shirt pocket. Crumpled. Oil stained. And it is his. The fuel was his. The truck was his. The work was his. And for the first time in two hundred years every unit of currency that flows from that work stays in the hands that did it. No consultant between him and his earnings because there are no earnings to consult on. Just work and its fruit. No auditor because there is nothing to audit. No banker because capital is what your hands produce and his hands never stopped. No valuator because the house is worth what it always was: a roof over his family and walls against the wind. A value no clipboard ever knew how to measure. When you grinding.... working... suffering... where are any of these parasites to help you?? Where are they?? We will be slaves no more. The storm will see to that alright!

SiriusB

52,457 views • 5 months ago

Holy shit. Four and a half years. My role as Marketing & PR Manager at Syscoin has officially ended, and I needed to write this before I posted anything else. So please, stop DM'ing me about Binance AMA's for $200 and telegram trade groups that have all the alpha, and 100k "active" members in them lol. The day I knew web3 was going to be the industry I live and die in started in Dubai. Binance Blockchain Week, March 2022. We threw what I still think was one of the best side events in blockchain history at the time, and from that night forward we had a standard. Syscoin stayed the true web3 vibe that everyone else strayed away from for casinos and meme tokens that died 2 years later. We always had the vibe. The right room, the right people, the right energy. That became the rhythm of the next four years for us. Syscoin stayed imitated but never duplicated over the next four years. Austin. Nashville. Las Vegas. Colombia, Singapore, Dubai, Davos. Medellín, where I first met Fernando Paredes at Devconnect, in a room full of builders who were actually building. Conferences and events all blur together when you've been to enough of them. But the side rooms don't. The 1am conversations don't. Those are the moments that built the network. Those are the moments I'll carry. Through every one of those rooms I had the honor of working alongside some of the biggest names in this industry. VC's, Founders, exchange leadership, protocol engineers, journalists, influencers and KOLs who actually move markets, builders shipping in silence. The kind of access most people in this space never get and with current industry conditions may actually never get again. I never took a single one of those rooms or connections for granted if you can't already tell by my X following. Behind all of it, the receipts that don't fit on a tweet. Over 400 terabytes of content, video, graphics, strategies, brand systems, blueprints, four years of building the marketing engine for a chain trying to scale Bitcoin without compromise. Thousands of hours, research, everything we needed to make it through cycle after cycle with our integrity, honesty and trust intact. Hundreds of strategies and playbooks that never even made it to market. There were good times. There were bad times. Anyone who tells you a four-year run inside a top-tier crypto project was all good times is selling you some straight bullshit. The project came out the other side. The team came out the other side. The work continued. That matters more than the noise. To everyone who made this run what it was. Every founder who picked up a call, every KOL who actually showed up, every journalist who took the meeting, every member of the community who never asked for anything but stayed loyal anyway. Thank you. So what's next for me? This astronaut isn't leaving the field. He's walking into the Wasteland of what he's had to watch our industry become over the last decade. Somewhere out there is the oasis. I'm going deep into AI. AI infrastructure and AI-native marketing, the place where autonomous agents, content systems, and Web3 product strategy actually meet. The next decade will define what the next century holds and I'm here to capture that. I've spent the last two years quietly building in that lane and I'm ready to make it the lane. If you're still in Web3, AI, or the seam where the two collide, my DMs are open. What a ride. — 1DC
0:15

Holy shit. Four and a half years. My role as Marketing & PR Manager at Syscoin has officially ended, and I needed to write this before I posted anything else. So please, stop DM'ing me about Binance AMA's for $200 and telegram trade groups that have all the alpha, and 100k "active" members in them lol. The day I knew web3 was going to be the industry I live and die in started in Dubai. Binance Blockchain Week, March 2022. We threw what I still think was one of the best side events in blockchain history at the time, and from that night forward we had a standard. Syscoin stayed the true web3 vibe that everyone else strayed away from for casinos and meme tokens that died 2 years later. We always had the vibe. The right room, the right people, the right energy. That became the rhythm of the next four years for us. Syscoin stayed imitated but never duplicated over the next four years. Austin. Nashville. Las Vegas. Colombia, Singapore, Dubai, Davos. Medellín, where I first met Fernando Paredes at Devconnect, in a room full of builders who were actually building. Conferences and events all blur together when you've been to enough of them. But the side rooms don't. The 1am conversations don't. Those are the moments that built the network. Those are the moments I'll carry. Through every one of those rooms I had the honor of working alongside some of the biggest names in this industry. VC's, Founders, exchange leadership, protocol engineers, journalists, influencers and KOLs who actually move markets, builders shipping in silence. The kind of access most people in this space never get and with current industry conditions may actually never get again. I never took a single one of those rooms or connections for granted if you can't already tell by my X following. Behind all of it, the receipts that don't fit on a tweet. Over 400 terabytes of content, video, graphics, strategies, brand systems, blueprints, four years of building the marketing engine for a chain trying to scale Bitcoin without compromise. Thousands of hours, research, everything we needed to make it through cycle after cycle with our integrity, honesty and trust intact. Hundreds of strategies and playbooks that never even made it to market. There were good times. There were bad times. Anyone who tells you a four-year run inside a top-tier crypto project was all good times is selling you some straight bullshit. The project came out the other side. The team came out the other side. The work continued. That matters more than the noise. To everyone who made this run what it was. Every founder who picked up a call, every KOL who actually showed up, every journalist who took the meeting, every member of the community who never asked for anything but stayed loyal anyway. Thank you. So what's next for me? This astronaut isn't leaving the field. He's walking into the Wasteland of what he's had to watch our industry become over the last decade. Somewhere out there is the oasis. I'm going deep into AI. AI infrastructure and AI-native marketing, the place where autonomous agents, content systems, and Web3 product strategy actually meet. The next decade will define what the next century holds and I'm here to capture that. I've spent the last two years quietly building in that lane and I'm ready to make it the lane. If you're still in Web3, AI, or the seam where the two collide, my DMs are open. What a ride. — 1DC

1DC

14,875 views • 3 months ago