#off shore

[ltwilliammowett]

Two-Decker in a gale off shore, by Samuel Owen (1768/9 -1857)

[armorcode]

Been on a boat. Been on a beach. 🎣⛺️

[teachanarchy]

Mega Yachts and False Flags: Unmasking the Super Rich's Offshore Secrets

[laverdad-dematrix]

La Verdad de los paraísos fiscales: sólo tú pagas impuestos, el resto elude o evade

¡Atención! Lo que viene a continuación va a hacer que te hierva la sangre! Hoy vamos a hablar de evasión fiscal, y cómo las grandes corporaciones se aprovechan de los paraísos fiscales mientras que el ciudadano de a pie no tiene escapatoria. Prepárate para conocer una realidad que no te van a contar en las noticias.

Introducción: La Gran Trampa Fiscal ¿Alguna vez te has preguntado por qué las grandes corporaciones parecen vivir en un mundo aparte? ¿Cómo es posible que empresas gigantescas paguen menos impuestos que tú, que luchas cada mes por llegar a fin de mes? La respuesta está en dos palabras: paraísos fiscales. Y lo que vas a escuchar ahora te va a dejar boquiabierto.

Hoy hablaremos de los Paraísos Fiscales, qué son. Cómo lo hacen las grandes corporaciones. Daremos algunos ejemplos realmente impactantes. Describiremos la injusticia que representa para el ciudadano común. Presentaremos las consecuencias para la sociedad, y qué podemos hacer.

NO TE DESANIMES, LA PRIMERA ACCIÓN PARA SALIR DE MATRIX ES EL CONOCIMIENTO.

NO TE LO PIERDAS

PARAÍSOS FISCALES

Los paraísos fiscales son países o territorios que ofrecen condiciones extremadamente favorables para atraer capital extranjero. Pero, ¿qué significa esto en la práctica? Aquí tienes las características principales:

Impuestos Bajos o Nulos: Los paraísos fiscales imponen tasas impositivas muy bajas o, en algunos casos, ningún impuesto sobre determinados tipos de ingresos, especialmente los generados fuera de su jurisdicción.

Confidencialidad Financiera: Ofrecen un alto nivel de secreto bancario. Esto significa que las identidades de los titulares de las cuentas y las transacciones realizadas en estos territorios están protegidas por estrictas leyes de confidencialidad.

Regulación Laxa: Las normativas y regulaciones financieras son mínimas. Esto permite a las empresas y personas establecer complejas estructuras legales y financieras con poca interferencia gubernamental.

Facilidad para Crear Entidades: Es muy sencillo y rápido crear empresas, fideicomisos y otras entidades legales, lo que facilita la transferencia y ocultación de dinero.

Protección Legal: Los paraísos fiscales cuentan con sistemas legales que protegen los activos contra la intervención de las autoridades fiscales de otros países.

¿Cómo Funcionan los Paraísos Fiscales?

Para entender cómo operan estos paraísos fiscales, veamos un ejemplo práctico:

Estrategias Utilizadas por las Grandes Corporaciones

Facturación Ficticia: Una empresa multinacional puede establecer una filial en un paraíso fiscal. Esta filial factura a otras partes del grupo por servicios ficticios o sobrevalorados. De esta manera, los beneficios se trasladan a la filial en el paraíso fiscal, donde están sujetos a impuestos muy bajos o inexistentes.

Precios de Transferencia Manipulados: Las empresas ajustan los precios de transferencia (precios a los que se venden bienes y servicios entre filiales de la misma empresa) para mover beneficios a jurisdicciones de baja tributación.

Préstamos Intragrupo: Las multinacionales pueden otorgar préstamos entre sus diferentes entidades. Las filiales en países con altos impuestos pagan intereses elevados a filiales en paraísos fiscales, reduciendo así sus ganancias imponibles en los países de altos impuestos.

Doble Irlandesa con Sándwich Holandés: Este es un esquema conocido utilizado por empresas tecnológicas como Google. Involucra mover ingresos a través de una serie de filiales en Irlanda y los Países Bajos para finalmente depositarlos en una entidad en un paraíso fiscal como Bermudas, donde no se pagan impuestos sobre los ingresos.

Las Grandes Fortunas Personales

Las personas con grandes fortunas también utilizan paraísos fiscales para evitar impuestos personales. Esto se hace a través de:

Cuentas Bancarias Secretas: Abren cuentas bancarias en paraísos fiscales bajo nombres de entidades o utilizando intermediarios para evitar la detección.

Fideicomisos y Fundaciones: Establecen fideicomisos y fundaciones en estos territorios para proteger y gestionar sus activos, evitando así los impuestos sobre herencias y ganancias de capital.

Inversiones Offshore: Realizan inversiones a través de vehículos offshore que no están sujetos a los mismos impuestos que las inversiones nacionales.

Consecuencias de los Paraísos Fiscales

Las consecuencias de la existencia y el uso de paraísos fiscales son graves y afectan a todos nosotros:

Pérdida de Ingresos Públicos: Los gobiernos pierden miles de millones de euros en ingresos fiscales que podrían haberse destinado a servicios públicos esenciales como la educación, la salud y las infraestructuras.

Desigualdad Económica: Los paraísos fiscales exacerban la desigualdad económica, ya que solo los más ricos y las grandes corporaciones pueden permitirse utilizar estos esquemas.

Inestabilidad Financiera: La existencia de grandes sumas de dinero en estos territorios puede llevar a una mayor inestabilidad financiera global, ya que los flujos de capital no son transparentes ni están regulados adecuadamente.

Erosión de la Confianza: La evasión fiscal a gran escala erosiona la confianza en los sistemas fiscales y gubernamentales, ya que los ciudadanos ven que las reglas no se aplican de manera justa.

Conclusión

Los paraísos fiscales son más que simples destinos exóticos; son piezas clave en la maquinaria de la evasión fiscal global. Permiten a las grandes corporaciones y fortunas personales evadir impuestos, mientras que el ciudadano común soporta la carga tributaria. Ahora que conoces cómo funcionan y las implicaciones que tienen, la pregunta es: ¿qué vamos a hacer al respecto? La respuesta es luchar por una mayor transparencia y una legislación más estricta a nivel global.

Así que mantente informado y no te pierdas nuestra próxima entrega, donde hablaremos de posibles soluciones y cómo podemos exigir un sistema fiscal más justo para todos. ¿Listo para el siguiente paso? ¡No te vayas!

[maeamian]

Part of the reason that Republicans are so desperately acting like they will never lose again is because they are deeply terrified that this is their last real chance to win. The big orange dipshit came in and gutted the party of everyone who wasn't a loyalist, which left it full of nasty little gremlins who have gaping voids where charisma and human decency is supposed to go.

They still hold a lot of power, but if we stop them this year the next presidential election may not be the Most Important One Of Your Life™, that's not a guarantee or anything, but if they don't win here and now their future looks grim, this dipshit is the only guy they have left and he's extremely diminished and has his brains leaking out of his ears at this point. We can beat him into the ground.

So that's what we're gonna fucking do. We're gonna break these fucking fash. They will crash upon us and we're gonna break their fucking necks. When they come for us they will lose because they're fucking losers and we have each other's backs which is something they fundamentally are incapable of comprehending.

[dialinginnovations]

Why You Need to Reconsider Your Offshore Support Team: The Risks of Lower Skill Sets, Language Barrier and Lack of Urgency"

For many businesses, offshore support teams may seem like a cost-effective solution to customer service needs. After all, labor costs are lower in countries like India and the Philippines, and the availability of workers is significantly higher. However, the reality is that choosing an offshore support team may be costing businesses more than they realize. In this blog post, we’ll delve into some…

[thoughtfullyblogger]

Κώστας Τσιάρας: Τρομερή αποκάλυψη για τον υπουργό Δικαιοσύνης πολιτικού προϊστάμενου της.... Δικαιοσύνης !

Αποκαλυπτικό ρεπορτάζ της εφημερίδας Δημοκρατια σημερα για την εταιρια offshore που ήταν στο ονομα της συζύγου του υπουργού που δεν δηλώθηκε ποτε στο πόθεν εσχες του.   Εδώ και τέσσερα χρόνια, ο Τσιάρας ήταν το πλυντήριο. Ε, στην αδήλωτη offshore κρέμαγε τις μπουγάδες του. pic.twitter.com/IrhkpAL9TT — Πυρήνας Υποστηρικτών Κώστα Καραμανλή (@PJK3xw8TIQ6FxCO) April 18, 2023 ΥΠΟΨΗΦΙΟΣ ΒΟΥΛΕΥΤΗΣ…

[netakias]

Κώστας Τσιάρας: Τρομερή αποκάλυψη για τον υπουργό Δικαιοσύνης πολιτικού προϊστάμενου της.... Δικαιοσύνης !

Αποκαλυπτικό ρεπορτάζ της εφημερίδας Δημοκρατια σημερα για την εταιρια offshore που ήταν στο ονομα της συζύγου του υπουργού που δεν δηλώθηκε ποτε στο πόθεν εσχες του.   Εδώ και τέσσερα χρόνια, ο Τσιάρας ήταν το πλυντήριο. Ε, στην αδήλωτη offshore κρέμαγε τις μπουγάδες του. pic.twitter.com/IrhkpAL9TT — Πυρήνας Υποστηρικτών Κώστα Καραμανλή (@PJK3xw8TIQ6FxCO) April 18, 2023 ΥΠΟΨΗΦΙΟΣ ΒΟΥΛΕΥΤΗΣ…

[ilions-end]

shipwrecked menelaus in euripides' helen:

odysseus someplace mid-odyssey at that exact moment: alright time to go a-beggin' again, hold my chlamys

[justaz]

arthur is immortal in the same way merlin is immortal, he can die but he bounces back after a while. merlin putting arthurs body on a boat and sending him out onto the lake but not burning him as he did to lancelot and freya. merlin disappearing off the face of the earth, unable to go back to camelot where every stone is carved with arthur's name, every room holds the faintest echo of his laughter, the shadows cast by the flickering flames of torches match each line and curve of arthur's body which merlin had memorized after years of dressing and undressing him, wandering and lingering hands that were just casual enough to pass off as platonic.

arthur crawling out of the lake the night after the morning merlin put him to rest, dazed, confused, and alive. arthur searches for merlin but can't find him. he's disappeared. gwen rules camelot as queen, she lifts the ban on magic, and rules fairly. arthur is content to leave his kingdom with her as he searches the land for merlin. he visits every place he and merlin every visited but he's nowhere to be found. time passes but arthur only grows more desperate. he's sure he's searched every inch of albion twice. no merlin.

enough time passes, everyone he's known has died and he looks exactly as he did when mordred drove his blade into his abdomen. arthur is forced to admit to himself that enough time has passed that merlin was bound to have died, leaving arthur all alone. immortal merlin is literally like chilling in ireland or some shit. but both immortal idiots are living in the same area and end up just missing each other. literally like end up holding the door to a coffee shop for one another but they don't meet each other's gazes bc they're busy mourning each other

[astratv]

Ανδρέας Πάτσης: Ο βίος και η πολιτεία του

«Δεν πιστεύω στην τύχη. Πιστεύω στη σκληρή δουλειά, τη σοβαρότητα και την εντιμότητα. Θεωρώ πως αν έχεις σχέδιο, όραμα και ιδέες και τις υλοποιείς με σωστό τρόπο, η επιτυχία είναι δεδομένη». Ετσι αυτοσυστήνεται στην προσωπική του ιστοσελίδα ο μέχρι πρότινος βουλευτής Γρεβενών της ΝΔ Ανδρέας Πάτσης, που βρέθηκε εκτός Κοινοβουλευτικής Ομάδας μετά τις «μη επαρκείς εξηγήσεις» που έδωσε αρμοδίως για…

[pr-fae]

Anyways here are my OCs, Linus and Ed (Edna), Pirate Kings and Captains of The Dreadnought. They are 40, flirty, and thriving with their ship full of other idiots. Ed enjoys telling people she was kidnapped 22 years ago just because and Linus has to clarify she infact was the one who broke onto the ship and then refused to leave ❤️🫰

[doodledrawsthings]

finally locked down the creature form design in a way i actually enjoy drawing edit: repost because i forgot a drawing in the last one

[teachanarchy]

Mega Yachts and False Flags: Unmasking the Super Rich's Offshore Secrets

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Abarth Offshore, 2024. Italian specialist boatbuilder Car Off Shore are working with Stellatis to offer a jet boat styled about a  Fiat 500 Abarth. It is powered by a 230hp inboard hydro jet engine. No pricing has been announced though Stellantis says Car Off Shore will build 500 of the 2-person jet boats

[izzystizzys]

When the 212th collaborates with the 501st, chaos is sure to follow in their footsteps. This has been largely true of every engagement since the start of the war, in Cody’s experience. Had he even an ounce more of a rebellious streak, he might question why and whether the success rate is worth the feral instinct for mayhem his battalion and Rex’ awaken in each other - as it is, he simply fills out the after action reports and then screams into his pillow, which is hard as durasteel and doesn’t warrant the name.

Or, on some days, he steps into the training rooms to work off some nervous jitters only for his foot to catch on someone’s armoured shoulder and faceplant straight into what looks like the entirety of both battalions piled together in a massive cuddle pile.

“What”, he manages between gritted teeth, heaving himself up with one hand supported on Crys’ arm and the other planted in places that make Boil jackknife up with a strangled yelp, “the kriff is this?!”

“We’re watching the Corrie Reality Special, sir”, his own voice calls from somewhere across the room. “The 91st is passing by, so we have satellite access to the Coruscant Broadcast network for a few hours, and we couldn’t settle on a specific show -“

“- so we decided to watch them all”, Rex finishes, sheepishly, where he’s fought his way through wiggling piles, hoots and badly imitated monkey lizard noises. The thought that he shares DNA with these degenerates is enough to drive Cody to the brink of a nervous breakdown some days. “Spopcorn?”

Ah. The Corrie Reality Circuit. When Cody first heard of it, he’d thought it was a prank. Then, they were deployed to the middle of bumkriff nowhere on the edges of Midrim space edging on Outer Rim, with a connection so spotty even classified military intel only got through about half the time, and the whole idea got shelved in favour of clankers and keeping his General’s lightsaber in his General’s hand where it belonged.

Now, a gaudy, glittery monstrosity of a logo announcing a Coruscant Rotational special appears on a rigged up screen, which means one of two things: either Fox is pulling the Galaxy’s greatest long con on all of them, or he’s been murdered and replaced with an evil clone (ha!), because there are no circumstances in which he would agree to star on Coruscant Reality TV.

Cody tilts his head consideringly. Rex smiles at him sheepishly. Tilts the spopcorn bowl at him, invitingly.

“Oh, dank farrik, sit your shebs down!”, someone (Fives, probably) yells out, fed-up…ly.

Cody sits his shebs down.

“Good morning and welcome all of Coruscant to the Great Coruscant Rotational Special: Our Boys in Red Edition!”, a bright red Twi’leki man announces on the screen amidst cheerful jizz music and loud hooting from the training room. “My name is Braham Horton, and I will be your exalted host for this fine, fine late night cycle!”

“And now, gentlebeings of the metropolis, I present to you the images that have driven us all to laughter, joy, and even tears at times over these past few weeks - whodathunkit, that the CSF media project would enthrall a whole Galaxy of viewers and cause the largest recorded peaceful civil protest of all time?!”

“The sorry what now”, says Cody, suddenly thinking back to the urgent meeting General Kenobi was currently in with Generals Windu and Yoda - passing by on the Venator in orbit. “Uhm”, says Rex. Braham Horton, unfazed by the commotion he’s causing lightyears away, chatters on.

“- many hours, so we’ve compiled an introductory little best-of for you, exalted viewers! And what better best of to start off on than the hottest entry of the most explosive bombshell into the villa - please give it up for Commander Thorn and how he stole all of our hearts on Love Island!”

A garish, club-tech jingle Cody has so far only heard buzz through the walls of establishments that generally didn’t allow clones thrums through the training room, followed by what can only be described as the sort of noises spiced up banthas might make. Thorn appears on screen, more oiled up and half-naked than Cody remembers, though just as bleach-blond, hair slightly longer than regulation and smile blindingly perfect.

“I’m Commander Thorn, baseline twenty-four years humanoid - during daytime I might be the scourge of Coruscant’s criminal underworld, but at night I don’t mind playing good cop for you!” He punctuates it woth a sleazy wink and fingerblasters that have Rex honest-to-god gagging, and Cody seeing his life flash before his eyes. If Alpha-17 finds out about this…

Suddenly, Thorn’s smile drops in favour of what might almost be called a scowl on even his handsome face, and the music cuts out. “There, got your soundbyte. Can I go back now? I’m supposed to be on shift.” Indistinct, off-screen chatter and a captioned oopsie… appear in a shower of glitter. Thorn’s face does something complicated. “For HOW MANY MONTHS?!”

Cut to a montage of what Cody can only describe as beaches, oil and abs galore, Braham Horton narrates and extremely close-up shot of what Cody tries very hard not to identify as Thorn’s crotch. His own crotch, in a way. Oh no, that’s weird, stop that train of thought immediately-

“Although our favourite bombshell’s entry into the villa wasn’t without its hitches and hurdles-“, emphasized by a zoom-in on Thorn’s form in a speedo huddled away from a partying crowd of softcore-kriffing contestants on a yacht, “- as well as all know, he would soon find his place in the villa - or places, rather!”

Two crying humanoid women appear on screen, with eyeliner smudges down to their knees. A hoot goes through the room. Cody watches with a sense of impeding doom. “You slept with her after I chose to match up with you instead of Chad?! How could you!”

Thorn, still oiled up with both blasters out for the world to see, winces. “I didn’t me-“

A hysterical gasp, a camera swerve. Three more people stand by the doorway, all clutching their chests with wide eyes. A broad, green Twi’leki man raises a finger to point accusingly. “You were sleeping with them too?! I thought I was the only one!”

“Dear Force”, Cody murmurs, unable to look away from the building speeder wreck on screen. Braham Horton laughs good-naturedly at his misery. “Ah, good times! And who could forget the all-out brawl of the following matching night, where a record number of every single other contestant attempted to physically fight the others for the right to match up with Commander Thorn! Including a somehow returned Chad, who nearly won thanks to the element of surprise. I wish we could show the footage, but then we’d have to slap several warnings on it and probably still get taken off the air.”

“I didn’t know Corries kriffed like that!”, someone (Fives, let’s be honest, it was definitely Fives) calls out into the room, receiving snickers and a well-aimed pillow to the throat for his trouble. He goes down with a choking scream.

“Someone who was less impressed by the hot’n bothered beach weather was Commander Thire, who found himself Less than Impressed by his co-contestants inability to keep it in their pants on Too Hot To Handle!”

Thire’s face, identical to Thorn’s in every way except the ones that matter, appears on screen. His black hair is cut in a cropped mohawk, arms folded over a button-up he’s carefully pieced together with… safety pins? Where are the buttons on it?

“These people are pathological and pathetic and I will spend not a second longer on this farce of an attempt at ‘entertainment show’”, says Thire, air-quotes so sharp they could cut stone. His scowl might be permanently etched into his face, Cody can’t tell. “Unlike literally everyone else, I have an actual job to do. Now move.”

A brief pause, in which cheerful jizz music plays over what is obviously a producer begging off-camera, followed by an eyeroll so hard it hurts Cody’s brain to watch. Thire throws his hands into the air in defeat, marching off into the sea behind him still fully clothed.

“When they didn’t find him until the last episode, I’ll admit, I thought he’d died too!”, Braham Horton cuts in cheerfully. “But would you look at his little lonely island lair - now that’s a fulfilled man, and too many coconuts for my taste! We’ve had to blur his hands out as he discovered the cameras just moments before these holos were taken, unfortunately. And, dear viewer, who could forget this exit-interview for the ages!”

A considerably more clothed Thire appears on screen, eyeing a microphone like he’s about to use it to stab out his own eyes. The reporter clears their throat in audible anxiety. “C-commander, how would you describe your reality experience in one word?”

“Demeaning”, says Thire, blandly.

Silence.

“Um, o-okay”, squeaks the reporter.

“Would you like some more words?”, asks a dead-eyed Thire.

“No, um, I think - I think we’re alright.”

“Because I have many words. Mostly for whoever the *bleep* thought this was a *bleep* good idea, and *bleeeeeeee-*”

“We’ve had to censor most of the Commander’s on-screen appearance, dear viewer, for your sensibilities”, says Braham Horton, eternally and painfully cheerful. “And speaking of sensibilities, who could forget Commander Stone honouring his name in several challenges on ‘I’m A Holostar - Get Me Out Of Here!’”

Soulful violin music fills the gym, overlaid with images of a bald vod Cody surmises must be Stone. Stone stares stonily into the void, glass of bright green something raised to his lips and already half-empty.

“Memorably, he downed a pint of acklay urine within seconds-“

Horrified screams are followed by an image of Stone chewing, yet another thousand-klick stare.

“- or when he ate Tauntaun anus -“

Rex doubles over gagging, and Cody slowly puts his handful of Spopcorn back down.

“- of course the ten minute worm-bath challenge cannot go unmentioned -“

“FORCE PLEASE NO!”, screams someone (Echo) tearfully. Commander Stone, buried to the chin in wiggling orange worms, looks less impressed.

“ - and who could forget his encounter with a horde of ginntho spiders and nests of vexis snakes!”

A remote goes sailing past the screen, missing by a mile, as images of Stone with his whole arm stuck in various boxes fly past. Someone is retching. It might be Cody.

“We would show the infamous butchery challenge wherein the Commander found himself drenched in nexu guts and sandworm brains, but once again, this is family friendly programming and we are not allowed. Nevertheless, a win well-deserved. And now, please welcome the one, the only, the awe-inspiring, the unbelievable: Marshall Commander Fox!”

Another Force-awful jingle, big, blocky letters, and Cody chokes on his own spit when Fox’s scowling face appears on screen. He’s thinner, greyer and angrier than the last time they saw eachother in person. Only the last one is really a surprise.

“I am neither naked nor afraid”, says Fox, arms crossed firmly, foot tapping impatiently on the ground. “I am, however, quickly losing my patience. Explain to me again the point of spending my valuable time undressing in the middle of bum-*bleep* nowhere on the Midrim instead of doing my job as the head of planetary security in the middle of a Galaxy-wide war?”

Several beats of silence follow. Fox grows less impressed with each. Cody knows that look well. Usually, it precedes handcuffs and a cold sonic blast to the face.

“Um… you signed a contract?”, says a producer’s voice uncertainly off-screen. Fox barks out a harsh laugh. “I’m legally classified as military property, my signature holds less weight than if I’d had one of the Guard’s massiffs shit on that contract for me.”

“Ouch!”, calls Crys.

“Gettim!”, adds Longshot.

“But… don’t you sign off military documents all the time for the Senate?”, sputters the producer.

Fox smiles with far to many teeth. It’s also a look Cody knows far too well, and even lightyears away it has a shudder going down his spine.

“Really makes you think about the technicalities of that definitely-not-slave-army, doesn’t it?”, he says, dryly.

“Although considerably less naked and afraid than all other contestants, Commander Fox left us with many memorable moments - such as when he saved the entire crew from an angry Acklay!”

Most of the next holovid is blurred out, though Cody can (unfortunately) guess at the why and how. So can most everyone else, judging by the collective groan.

“Down, boy”, says Fox, flatly, to a hissing Acklay twice his size. It rears its fanged head, and a shudder goes through the room. Fox simply crosses his arms and nails the beast with an unimpressed look. “You are making a fool of both of us. Cut it out.”

Chastised, the Acklay blinks at him, slowly lowering itself back down with a confused hiss.

“No kriffing wonder all the Corrie shinies are such hardasses”, mutters Rex, whom Cody is hard pressed to agree with. “I came from a tube and that look gave me daddy issues.”

“Yes, dear viewer, who could forget these heart-warming moments of good, quality television!”, sighs Braham Horton, dreamily. “Not Coruscant anytime soon, that’s for sure! We are now entering the twentieth rotation of the sit-in protest of a petition to allow the Commanders of the Coruscant Guard to compete on Dancing With The Planets, Coruscant Rotational’s epic dance competition!”

“Dear bum-kriffing Force”, whispers Rex, wide-eyed and awe-struck. “Does Fox know about this?!”

Cody, who’s already dialing the kriffer’s comm-code, wipes a singular tear from his eye. “Not a clue, but kriff, am I going to enjoy telling him.”