#software incoming call

[snailsandstrawberries]

going insane (again) i have an exam in three days and i wanted to start studying and i went through everything we need to know in an hour. AN HOUR. pathetic excuse of a class holy shit

[tsreviews]

PayPerCall AI Review

Pay Per Call AI is a system that claims to combine artificial intelligence (AI) with pay-per-call marketing, a type of performance marketing where advertisers pay publishers for quality calls generated on their behalf. According to some sources, Pay Per Call AI can help users generate consistent income with minimal effort and maximum profitability. However, there is not much information available about how the system works, who is behind it, or what are the risks involved. Therefore, users should be cautious and do their own research before investing in this system.

Overview

Vendor: James Renouf

Product: PayPerCall AI

Launch Date: 2024-Jan-26

Launch Time: 11:00 EST

Front-End Price: 11

Niche: Tools and Software

Bonuses- Yes, Huge Bonuses

Refund- YES, 30 Days Money-Back Guarantee

Features & Benefits:

Pay Per Call AI is a system that claims to combine artificial intelligence (AI) with pay-per-call marketing, a type of performance marketing where advertisers pay publishers for quality calls generated on their behalf. Some of the features and benefits of Pay Per Call AI are:

-AI-Powered: Leverage the power of AI to create engaging, compelling YouTube videos that drive traffic directly to your offers.

-Passive, Ongoing Income: Set up once, earn forever. This isn’t about one-time gains; it’s about building a sustainable, growing income stream.

-A New Era of Marketing: Step into a realm where your marketing efforts are not just seen but sought after. With Pay Per Call AI, become a part of a marketing revolution.

-Endless Opportunities: With over 965 offers on just one platform, explore countless niches and markets.

-High Conversion, High Profit: Tap into a customer base with higher buying intent for better conversion rates and higher commissions.

-Privacy & Power Combined: Earn anonymously and powerfully, with your privacy intact.

Why Pay Per Call AI?

Innovative Approach: This isn't just another affiliate marketing strategy. Pay Per Call AI is a unique blend of AI's analytical prowess with the untapped potential of pay-per-call marketing, a sector where every phone call turns into a revenue stream, whether a sale is made or not.

Simplicity at Its Best: Forget complex setups and tedious processes. Pay Per Call AI is all about setting things up once and watching your income grow. With step-by-step guidance, you'll be up and running in no time.

Free, Highly-Targeted Traffic: Dive into the world of YouTube, an untapped reservoir of potential customers. With AI-driven, faceless videos, drive traffic that's not just huge in volume but exceptional in quality and conversion potential.

Limitless Opportunities: With over 965 offers on just one platform, the sky's the limit. This system isn't about getting a slice of the pie. It's about having an entire bakery at your disposal, with countless niches and markets to explore.

High Conversion, High Profit: Phone calls mean business. With Pay Per Call, you tap into a customer base with higher buying intent, leading to better conversion rates, higher commissions, and ultimately, more income for you.

Anonymous yet Powerful: Your privacy is paramount. In this system, your identity is never revealed. You earn from the shadows, providing a service without ever having to make your presence known.

Expert Guidance Every Step of the Way: You're not alone in this journey. Learn from James Renouf, a seasoned pro in Pay Per Call marketing who has generated substantial income in this field. With James and Dave's expert insights, the path to profitability is clear and straightforward.

The Pay Per Call AI Advantage: AI-Powered: Leverage the power of AI to create engaging, compelling YouTube videos that drive traffic directly to your offers.

Passive, Ongoing Income: Set up once, earn forever. This isn't about one-time gains; it's about building a sustainable, growing income stream.

A New Era of Marketing: Step into a realm where your marketing efforts are not just seen but sought after. With Pay Per Call AI, become a part of a marketing revolution.

On January 26th, the landscape of affiliate marketing is set to change forever. Don't just watch it happen. Be a part of it. Join Pay Per Call AI and transform your financial future. Your journey to a life of freedom, prosperity, and endless potential begins now.

The price rises with every sale so there is real urgency to purchase. Promote early and often to maximize your profit.

Conclusion:

In a digital age where personalized interactions and data-driven insights are paramount, Pay Per Call AI stands out as a game-changer in the marketing landscape. By seamlessly blending the power of AI with pay-per-call advertising, businesses can elevate their customer engagement strategies, drive higher conversions, and ultimately stay ahead in an increasingly competitive market. As the technology continues to evolve, the potential for innovative applications and improvements in customer interaction is limitless, making Pay Per Call AI a must-consider tool for businesses looking to thrive in the digital era.

Instant Access Now

[likeawolfatthemoon]

yesterday i had a panic attack at work and sobbed for over an hour at my desk in front of all of my coworkers bc i was frozen to the spot and couldn't like...move myself to a different area at the very least. and i embarrassed the fuck out of myself and now i'm afraid of the new job that i loved 🙃

[voicebrodcasting]

Voice Broadcasting Software India

Best Voice Broadcasting Service in India - Broadcast your message in multiple regional languages and connect with your target audience. Increase conversion rate and engagement with impactful voice broadcasting service. Connect with go2market today.

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:

Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.

It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:

This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?

Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.

Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:

SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."

That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.

The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.

HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.

Uh oh!

Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.

You can guess where this is going.

So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.

Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.

[vertagedialer]

What is Call Barging Software Solution

[go2market]

Bulk Voice call & SMS in India

Voice Broadcasting is a mass communication technique businesses use to quickly and efficiently send their message to many people while also receiving a response. Use go2market's fantastic voice broadcasting service to boost customer engagement, response rates, and business success.

[pippin-pippout]

For those following the SAG and WGA strikes there’s new shit a-brewing, this time targeting background actors (aka extras).

Some may know that one of the issues SAG is fighting is that studios want to take virtual scans of background actors and use them in perpetuity (meaning forever) without any additional compensation to those background actors. So you would just see a bunch of AI generated humans in future movies based off of a background actor that worked one day.

This is already shitty because working as an extra for 3 days on a union set (if you receive a union voucher each day) is one of the main ways to qualify for SAG eligibility. This means that a lot of actors working background do not yet have union protection and likely do not have an agent or manager to protect them. Disney has already allegedly told background actors to do this on the set of Wanda Vision: https://www.avclub.com/wandavision-background-actors-say-disney-scanned-them-1850709900

Here’s where it's worse.

There is one main company that supplies background actors for major union and non union productions. Central Casting. They love to brag about their very long influence in the industry - in old movies dating back to the 40s you can hear jokes about hiring extras from Central Casting.

Central Casting has been including an electronic document for all actors in their database to sign as part of onboarding. Signing it gives Central Casting the right to use your images, your videos, and YOUR LIKENESS in perpetuity, forever. They would OWN your likeness. Instead of it being a studio supplying the AI background actors, it would be Central Casting instead.

Receiving any work from Central Casting in the future is conditional upon signing it. No signature = no extra work = no extra income for union actors trying to make health insurance minimums, no union extra work for pre-SAG members.

SAG already reached out to Central Casting to tell them to stop. Central Casting refused.

Edit to say: this is not new. It’s part of actors onboarding and is called the Photo, Image, and Video Release. It’s phrased to sound like you are just giving them permission to use your image and video for CC’s website and promotional purposes. But the actual language is much broader. It's only recently being brought up as a point for discussion because some casting directors (who are generally supportive of the strike) started pointing it out.

Central Casting is owned by Entertainment Partners which is also a giant software conglomerate and owns a lot of the software used to organize background casting and pay actors. https://www.ep.com/company/about-us/

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Know thy enemy

“Enemy fleet exiting jump now.” The tactical officer called out.

Admiral Haru nodded at the confirmation and switched the holographic projection to a live feed.

Bright pinpricks of light flickered in and out showcasing the enemy ships exiting their jump points. On the side of the screen the tracking software updated itself with each new ship, tracking and marking their current locations. The current count was at one hundred ships and increasing steadily.

“I recommend a withdrawal.”

Haru turned from the display to see his alien counterpart fleet master Wrang standing next to him. The translator unit was doing its best to interpret his species speech patterns, but it couldn’t fully remove the high pitched screeching.

“I assure you that we are in no danger of losing this engagement.” Haru replied even as the number of enemy ships continued rising.

“They outnumber us three to one.” Wrang pointed out. “We can not form a battle line against such numbers.”

It was true that the tracking software was not up to three hundred ships but thankfully the lights from jump exits were dwindling more and more. Haru wagered the majority of the enemy had arrived and any stragglers would be petering out soon.

As if to confirm his sentiments the enemy fleet began dispersing itself, morphing from a rough sphere of ships to a well-organized battle line. The heavier battleships and cruisers taking up position behind a screen of frigate and destroyer class vessels. Their sleek polished hulls reflecting a mixture of greens and oranges, with the crest of the Vulzon Theocracy proudly painted on the front of each ship.

“Numbers are not always the key to victory.” Haru remarked as the communication officer called out to the admiral.

“We have an incoming communication from the Vulzon flagship.”

“Begin a trace on the link and pass along their location to the gun batteries for targeting.” Haru said as he sat down on his command throne. He straightened his uniform and smoothed over several creases before nodding to the waiting communication officer.

The holographic projection flickered for a moment before switching from a view of the enemy fleet to a view of the Vulzon command bridge. There, standing in front of his command throne with one hand resting on his viper blade and the other behind his back, stood Haru’s adversary.

Tatiman; war chief of the eternal rage.

“We meet again,” Tatiman spoke through sharpened teeth,” little human.”

Haru said nothing and so the war chief continued.

“I must admit, I am surprised you stayed to fight.” Tatiman chuckled. “I had expected your kind to run and h-“

Haru motioned a hand across his throat and the communication officer cut the communication.

“Why did you do that?” Wrang asked; both deeply confused and troubled by the human’s actions.

It was true his government had relinquished control of their fleet to human control for the duration of the crisis, but he was also instructed to rescind that order and regain control of their forces. Humans were still unknown in the galaxy, making them an unknown and potential risk. A risk Haru seemed to be confirming right now.

“He’ll call back.” Haru remarked as he rested his hand on his chin and smiled.

No sooner had the words left his mouth did the communication officer speak up again.

“From their command ship again, Admiral.”

Haru listened to the chiming noise to indicate an incoming transmission but sat passively in his throne. A minute passed and the communications officer was about to ask again when Haru waved him to open the link.

Once again Tatiman was on screen aboard his command bridge, though looking substantially angrier than before.

“I am trying to be diplomatic,” Tatiman said through clenched teeth, “and you dare insult my-“

Again Haru swiped his hand across his throat and the communication was terminated.

“Do you have a death wish?” Wrang asked as he began to sweat.

“Hardly,” Haru grinned, “there’s a new episode of battle base five airing in two days and I will be damned if I will be killed before finding out which cyborg gave birth to Maria.”

At a loss for words at the entirety of the admiral’s statement Wrang just stood there with his mouth hanging open as yet another communication chime came in.

This time Haru answered it immediately rather than waiting and the link was established again.

Tatiman was now far beyond anger. Behind him one of the arms of his command throne was sparking erratically and Wrang imagined that the war chief had struck it after the second transmission was terminated.

“I will rip the eyes from your sockets, and make you watch as I strangle the life from your frail body!” Tatiman shouted. The loud shout startled several of the human crew but Wrang saw nothing of the same on the admiral’s face who yawned loudly.

“Listen, taint,” Haru began as he lazily slouched in his throne, “as much as I love your boastings I am with a friendly delegate and my time is short; so would you be a dear and surrender already?”

Wrang couldn’t describe the colors Tatiman went through as he stuttered words of rage. His eyes were wide and focused with a killers gaze while Haru yawned again and made the swipe motion to terminate the transmission.

“I hope you have a plan,” Wrang began as the entire Vulzon fleet appeared to power their engines and begin rushing towards them, “as you may have just killed us all.”

“Fleet wide transmission, now.” Haru ordered crisply and the communication officer complied without question.

“This is Admiral Haru to all ships, activate targeting scramblers and launch full spread of chaff.”

Wrang watched as the holographic screen flickered for a moment as the scramblers activated while a barrage of chaff missiles were launched. The first Vulzon energy lances began hammering the ships shields as the chaff missiles exploded. The space between the two fleets suddenly was filled with a thick cloud of white particles as if a bell had just been dropped in a dusty foundry.

“That tactic will only delay them.” Wrang remarked as the energy lances suddenly lost accuracy. Energy lances passed their ships harmlessly as the chaff interfered with the Vulzon targeting locks. “Even with scramblers and chaff it won’t be enough; they will be switching to visual targeting now.”

“I’m counting on it.” Was all Haru replied as the energy lances began finding their marks again. “By now every gunner and commander in their fleet is looking out a window or view screen to watch us.”

A shudder through the ship made Wrang wobble on his feet for a heartbeat before he regained his footing. Warning icons were flashing now across the view screen as energy spikes from the shields were beginning to ravage the human flagship.

“Why are we not returning fire!?” Wrang demanded as another shudder sent him to his knees.

“I’m waiting.” Haru remarked as he watched the view screen. The enemy icons had cross half the distance between the fleets and had now entered within the chaff cloud.

“For what!?”

“For this moment.” Haru said with a smile.

“All ships, all ships; fire Cheshire rounds now.”

Before Wrang could ask what a Cheshire round was the view screen lit up as every cannon amongst their fleet fired at the same time.

Wrang watched the Vulzon ships to see how many would explode, but was surprised when a second cloud of bright purple appeared.

“This was your secret weapon?” Wrang shouted. “You launch colored dust while they slaughter us?!”

Haru held up a finger to silence Wrang and said nothing else. So infuriated was the fleet master he was on the verge of ordering his people’s ships to retreat when he noticed something.

The ship had stopped shuddering.

Turning back to the view screen Wrang was astonished to see that every ship in the Vulzon fleet had ceased firing. They were still hurtling towards them but otherwise their guns had fallen silent.

“Admiral to fleet, disperse formation to avoid incoming vessels and prepare full barrage as they pass by.” Haru sounded off.

The fleet began to spread apart just in time as the first Vulzon ships began flying through their line. Some Vulzon ships passing close enough an engineer could reach out and scrape the Vulzon paintwork with a wrench but thankfully no collisions were reported.

“Fleet maneuver completed and all ships confirm they are ready to fire.” The tactical officer sounded off.

“Open fire.” Haru spoke as he watched the Vulzon flagship pass by before being hammered by a full broadside of energy batteries.

The shields flickered then collapsed in an instant under such a close bombardment. Wrang watched as the delicate paint work was burnt away as hull punctures riddled the entire ship from stem to stern.

All along the entire line human vessels were firing at near point blank range causing horrific damage to the Vulzon fleet which was still passing by without retaliating.

“What did you do?” Wrang asked softly. He had never seen a Vulzon fleet be destroyed so utterly and in such a manner that it defied all reason.

Haru rested his chin on his hand again and watched as the Vulzon flagship detonated under the latest salvo.

“Did you know that the Vulzon have very unique eyes?” he asked the fleet master. When Wrang shook his head he continued.

“They can see spectrums of light and energy well beyond what our human eyes can see, but that also makes them incredibly sensitive to certain things; things that can trigger violent and sometimes fatal physical bodily reactions.”

Haru looked at Wrang, but when he saw the fleet master still struggling to put the pieces together he decided to spell out his plan entirely.

“The color purple,” Haru stated as he pointed to the dissipating cloud of the color, “has been known to trigger a form of cardiac arrest if observed during moments of intense stress for Vulzon’s.”

“So,” Wrang began as he puzzled together Haru’s plan, “when you fired those Cheshire rounds you gave them…”

“-a form of mass seizure.” Haru finished.

He stood up from his command throne and walked over to the tactical display. “Vulzon are a dedicated military race with a strong sense of loyalty to their commander.” Haru began. “But this means that they also emulate their commander in all things. Dress code, discipline, mental state, etc.”

“So when you made Tatiman angry, they all emulated him and became angry as well.” Wrang put together.

“Exactly.” Haru nodded. “So when they saw the purple color they were all in a state of pure rage and anger, making the cardiac arrest they would normally experience that much more effective.”

“But they would know of their weakness.” Wrang countered. “Their sensors and displays would be programmed to remove the color from their screens to prevent that.”

“Unless they were scrambled and the Vulzon were forced to rely on visual confirmation.”

Suddenly the scramblers and chaff made sense. The human admiral had not deployed them to hamper the Vulzon weapon locks, but to force them into a situation that would expose them to their weakness without them even knowing.

“The benefit of making an enemy mad is that they tend to fail at thinking beyond the current moment.” Haru finished as he flicked a speck of dust off his uniform. “They don’t see the knife until it’s embedded in their chest.”

He pointed to the last of the Vulzon ships to pass between their fleet still steaming ahead with no regard for their own safety. A few had suddenly began to maneuver in different directions and Haru pointed them out specifically.

“Inform the fleet to focus on any ship not moving in a straight line first before others, regardless of class.”

The communication officer nodded and relayed the message. When he turned and saw Wrang looking confused.

“I imagine that by now someone must have gotten to the bridge to find their captain is dead along with most of their command staff and tried to steer the ship to safety.”

“I applaud you for your thoroughness.” Wrang bowed. “You are much wiser in the ways of war than I had expected.”

Haru smiled and returned the bow. “There’s an old terran saying that has defined my career.”

“To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy.

[katanablue]

I originally had a totally different idea for this but I think I may just do a part 2 hehehe. ALSO IF ANYONE GOT ANY GOOD 07 DONNIE FICS ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Warnings: NONE JUST DONNIE BEING A CUTE GRUMPY DORK.

Another day another long boring shift full of talking to idiotic people who don’t know the difference between hardware and software and explaining to one too many elderly people that ‘No, you cannot print out the Internet.’

He’s just finished a call, rubbing the space between his eyes as he feels his daily headache come on. He’s impressed that he’s managed to nearly finish his workday without it appearing until now. He groans low in his throat, debating on getting up to grab a glass of water so he can take a pill or just sucking it up these last 30 minutes.

He gets his answer when an incoming call rings through his headset, making Donnie roll his eyes hard and into the back of his skull. He inhales deeply through his nose to prepare himself, letting it out when he clicks on a key to answer the phone.

“Thank you for calling tech support, this is Donatello speaking, how can I help you today.” He doesn’t bother putting on his customer service voice, his headache dully throbbing now as he waits for the other person on the line to start rambling about their dumb issue.

“Hi, how are you today?” You say, giving the standard pleasantries before delving into your computer issue.

Typical, of course his last call would try to make small talk.

“I’m fine ma’am, thank you. How can I help you today?” He repeats it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again and leans back in his chair, swaying gently side to side. He thinks about what he should eat after, his eyes trailing to the clock in the Lair that signifies in big red letters that it’s nearly 2 a.m. Not the latest he’s stayed up but today’s shift was particularly exhausting. Maybe it’s the full moon or something, ‘Mercury in Gatorade’ as Mikey would sometimes call it.

“Hello?”

Shit. He totally just fucking zoned out on you.

“Apologies ma’am, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?” Great, he just extended this call by about 2 minutes.

“Oh, that’s alright! I’m dealing with an issue with my laptop’s ability to open programs fast. It’s taking forever just to open something and I’m not quite sure why.” You repeat your issue, quietly sighing as you aimlessly move your mouse around your screen, hoping that the guy on the other side will be able to help with you.

Donnie immediately knows what the problem could be; slow processing speeds a fairly common issue for him but thankfully an easy fix.

So he starts by asking the standard questions: do you have any programs that take a lot of space? Any tabs open that you aren’t using? Anything running in the background?

When you tell him ‘no, no and no’, that’s when he sits up from his chair and squints his eyes. If those aren’t the cause of your laptops slow speed then what could it be?

“Well,”

Ah, there it is.

“I do play a few games but those have never caused me problems before. Could that be it?”

Normally Donatello’s irritation would increase when the customer would ‘suddenly remember’ something that could be pausing their problem. You, however? Didn’t spark that within him for some reason. In fact, besides your calm demeanor, it’s the way you spoke so kindly to him combined with the fact that you also game apparently that has Donnie not wanting to snap at you.

“Like what?” He asks, being sure to keep it professional.

And when you list his all time favorite game among some others that he’s obsessed with, he has to practically force himself to not totally geek out. Sure he’s played some of the popular games nowadays like League or Valorant, but hearing you say that you modded some old PS1 games to play on your laptop practically skyrockets his excitement.

Which in turn makes his headache pound harder.

He’s unable to keep himself from hissing when a pang shoots right through his skull, knowing you heard it when you trail off your sentence.

“Are you alright?”

Maybe it’s because he’s had a long day or maybe it’s because this seems to be shifting into a migraine, but the concern and sincerity in your voice makes an odd feeling bubble in Donnie’s chest. Surely no one would ever be genuinely worried over an I.T guy, not when you have more pressing matters on your hands.

“My apologies miss, I’m just uh, dealing with a bit of a headache right now. Although I think it’s turning into a migraine.” He grunts through his clenched jaw, swinging carefully around in his chair as he searches for his bottle of Advil only to suck his teeth when he shakes the container and hears absolutely nothing rattling around.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! Do you want to go grab some medicine? I don’t mind waiting.”

The corner of Donnie’s lip twitches upward. He brings his hands to massage at his temples, the motions doing something to relieve the tension in his head but not nearly enough.

“I unfortunately just discovered that I’m out of medicine. But that’s alright, I’ll pick some up after this call.” He doesn’t bother hiding his sigh, settling back in his seat as he prepares to ask you more questions to help you out.

“What about any oils? Got any of those? Usually lavender or peppermint do the trick.” You put him on speaker and go to your Safari on your phone to begin looking up other remedies, wanting to assist this poor I.T man.

Donnie’s not quite sure why you’re trying to be helpful but at this point he doesn’t exactly care, the throbbing getting worse by the second.

“It could also be too much pressure, literally, around your head. Do you wear headbands or anything like that? Could also be your headphones.”

“No, no headbands. And my headphones have cushioning all around so not those either.” He responds, debating on texting Mikey to bring him the peppermint oil that April bought for Splinter last Christmas.

“Ah, a man of comfort.” You laugh, fingers quickly typing in your question into the search engine.

Donnie finds himself smiling faintly at the sound, a fleeting thought of ‘Wow, I want to hear that again’ passing through his brain.

“Well, I can’t use regular headphones for gaming. I’m also a fan of those games that you play.”

You blink in surprise, your scrolling faltering for half a second before continuing on.

“No way, really?”

And so you talk for the next 20 minutes about said games; reliving memories, talking about specific moments you wish you could experience again, the soundtracks, the characters. Everything.

For the first 10 minutes, Donnie kept reminding himself that he was just prolonging his work call, that he should drive the focus back onto your issue so he can hang up and clock out. But the more he talked to you, the more he said ‘fuck it’ and allowed himself this one rare moment of normalcy.

He also nearly forgot about his raging migraine, until it pleasantly reminded him that it was still present with a sharp stabbing pain behind his eyes.

It’s what snaps him back to reality, his face grimacing from the white hot torment happening in his skull.

“I’m so sorry, we should really get back to your computers issues.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

God, why did he feel so awful saying that? And why did it make his stomach twist when hearing just how disappointed you sounded? It’s something he’ll have to dissect later, not when he’s already 30 minutes past the standard call time for support.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here.”

This is one of the rare times Donnie wishes he wasn’t so smart with technology because in less than 5 minutes he solves your problem. He wishes he could just be a little average to talk to you more even if it’s computer stuff.

“Alright, you shouldn’t have a problem anymore. Anything else I can help you with?”

Please say yes please say yes please say yes.

“No, I’m all good. Thank so much Donatello!”

“Donnie! You can call me Donnie.”

Fuck.

“Just your friendly I.T tech support here to help you 24 hours a day.”

Double fuck.

Why did he say that? It’s standard spiel protocol but still, how utterly lame…

You can’t help but giggle at him, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much from this total stranger.

“Alright then, Donnie. I’ll know who to ask for if I ever need help again.”

He smiles and asks for your name, just so he’ll know who he’s talking to if you ever do call again. He repeats it back to you once you tell him, the word rolling off his tongue in such a way that makes you feel giddy and grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“Have a good night, please don’t hesitate to call back if you’re still experiencing technical difficulties.”

And by Darwin he hopes you do.

[mariacallous]

US Treasury Department and White House officials have repeatedly denied that technologists associated with Elon Musk’s so-called Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) had the ability to rewrite the code of the payment system through which the vast majority of federal spending flows. WIRED reporting shows, however, that at the time these statements were made, a DOGE operative did in fact have write access. Not only that, but sources tell WIRED that at least one note was added to Treasury records indicating that he no longer had write access before senior IT staff stated it was actually rescinded.

Marko Elez, a 25-year-old DOGE technologist, was recently installed at the Treasury Department as a special government employee. One of a number of young men identified by WIRED who have little to no government experience but are currently associated with DOGE, Elez previously worked for SpaceX, Musk’s space company, and X, Musk’s social media company. Elez resigned Thursday after The Wall Street Journal inquired about his connections to “a deleted social-media account that advocated for racism and eugenics.”

As WIRED has reported, Elez was granted privileges including the ability to not just read but write code on two of the most sensitive systems in the US government: the Payment Automation Manager (PAM) and Secure Payment System (SPS) at the Bureau of the Fiscal Service (BFS), an agency that according to Treasury records paid out $5.45 trillion in fiscal year 2024. Reporting from Talking Points Memo confirmed that Treasury employees were concerned that Elez had already made “extensive changes” to code within the Treasury system. The payments processed by BFS include federal tax returns, Social Security benefits, Supplemental Security Income benefits, and veteran’s pay.

Over the last week, the nuts and bolts of DOGE’s access to the Treasury has been at the center of an escalating crisis.

On January 31, David Lebryk, the most senior career civil servant in the Treasury, announced he would retire; he had been placed on administrative leave after refusing to give Musk’s DOGE team access to the federal payment system. The next morning, sources tell WIRED, Elez was granted read and write access to PAM and SPS.

On February 3, Politico reported that Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent told Republican lawmakers in the House Financial Services Committee that Musk and DOGE didn’t have control over key Treasury systems. The same day, The New York Times reported that Karoline Leavitt, the White House press secretary, said that DOGE’s access was “read-only.”

The significance of this is that the ability to alter the code on these systems would in theory give a DOGE technologist—and, by extension, Musk, President Donald Trump, or other actors—the capability to, among other things, illegally cut off Congressionally authorized payments to specific individuals or entities. (CNN reported on Thursday that Musk associates had demanded that Treasury pause authorized payments to USAID, precipitating Lebryk’s resignation.)

On February 4, WIRED reported that Elez did, in fact, have admin access to PAM and SPS. Talking Points Memo reported later that day that Elez had “made extensive changes to the code base for these critical payment systems.” In a letter that same day that did not mention Musk or DOGE, Treasury official Jonathan Blum wrote to Senator Ron Wyden of Oregon, “Currently, Treasury staff members working with Tom Krause, a Treasury employee, will have read-only to the coded data of the Fiscal Service’s payment systems.” (Krause is the top DOGE operative at Treasury and CEO of Cloud Software Group.) The letter did not say what kind of access the staff members actually had.

Sources tell WIRED that by afternoon of the next day, February 5, Elez’s access had been changed to “read-only” from both read and code-writing privileges.

That same day, a federal judge granted an order to temporarily restrict DOGE staffers from accessing and changing Treasury payment system information, following a lawsuit alleging the Treasury Department provided “Elon Musk or other individuals associated with DOGE” with access to the payment systems, and that this access violated federal privacy laws. The order specifically provided a carve-out for two individuals: Krause and Elez. At a court hearing later that day, Department of Justice lawyer Bradley Humphreys asserted that the order said their access would be “read-only.”

“It’s a distinction without a difference,” a source told WIRED. Referring specifically to the PAM, through which $4.7 trillion flowed in fiscal year 2024, they said Elez should not have had “access to this almost $5 trillion payment flow, even if it’s ���read-only.’ None of this should be happening.”

The Treasury Department did not immediately respond to a request for comment. Elez did not immediately respond to a request for comment. The White House and Musk did not immediately respond to requests for comment.

“People will be held accountable for the crimes they’re committing in this coup attempt,” Wyden tells WIRED. “I’m not letting up on my investigation of what these Musk hatchet men are up to.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Microsoft pinky swears that THIS TIME they’ll make security a priority

One June 20, I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On June 21, I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On June 22, I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

As the old saying goes, "When someone tells you who they are and you get fooled again, shame on you." That goes double for Microsoft, especially when it comes to security promises.

Microsoft is, was, always has been, and always will be a rotten company. At every turn, throughout their history, they have learned the wrong lessons, over and over again.

That starts from the very earliest days, when the company was still called "Micro-Soft." Young Bill Gates was given a sweetheart deal to supply the operating system for IBM's PC, thanks to his mother's connection. The nepo-baby enlisted his pal, Paul Allen (whom he'd later rip off for billions) and together, they bought someone else's OS (and took credit for creating it – AKA, the "Musk gambit").

Microsoft then proceeded to make a fortune by monopolizing the OS market through illegal, collusive arrangements with the PC clone industry – an industry that only existed because they could source third-party PC ROMs from Phoenix:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/08/ibm-pc-compatible-how-adversarial-interoperability-saved-pcs-monopolization

Bill Gates didn't become one of the richest people on earth simply by emerging from a lucky orifice; he also owed his success to vigorous antitrust enforcement. The IBM PC was the company's first major initiative after it was targeted by the DOJ for a 12-year antitrust enforcement action. IBM tapped its vast monopoly profits to fight the DOJ, spending more on outside counsel to fight the DOJ antitrust division than the DOJ spent on all its antitrust lawyers, every year, for 12 years.

IBM's delaying tactic paid off. When Reagan took the White House, he let IBM off the hook. But the company was still seriously scarred by its ordeal, and when the PC project kicked off, the company kept the OS separate from the hardware (one of the DOJ's major issues with IBM's previous behavior was its vertical monopoly on hardware and software). IBM didn't hire Gates and Allen to provide it with DOS because it was incapable of writing a PC operating system: they did it to keep the DOJ from kicking down their door again.

The post-antitrust, gunshy IBM kept delivering dividends for Microsoft. When IBM turned a blind eye to the cloned PC-ROM and allowed companies like Compaq, Dell and Gateway to compete directly with Big Blue, this produced a whole cohort of customers for Microsoft – customers Microsoft could play off on each other, ensuring that every PC sold generated income for Microsoft, creating a wide moat around the OS business that kept other OS vendors out of the market. Why invest in making an OS when every hardware company already had an exclusive arrangement with Microsoft?

The IBM PC story teaches us two things: stronger antitrust enforcement spurs innovation and opens markets for scrappy startups to grow to big, important firms; as do weaker IP protections.

Microsoft learned the opposite: monopolies are wildly profitable; expansive IP protects monopolies; you can violate antitrust laws so long as you have enough monopoly profits rolling in to outspend the government until a Republican bootlicker takes the White House (Microsoft's antitrust ordeal ended after GW Bush stole the 2000 election and dropped the charges against them). Microsoft embodies the idea that you either die a rebel hero or live long enough to become the evil emperor you dethroned.

From the first, Microsoft has pursued three goals:

Get too big to fail;

Get too big to jail;

Get too big to care.

It has succeeded on all three counts. Much of Microsoft's enduring power comes from succeeded IBM as the company that mediocre IT managers can safely buy from without being blamed for the poor quality of Microsoft's products: "Nobody ever got fired for buying Microsoft" is 2024's answer to "Nobody ever got fired for buying IBM."

Microsoft's secret sauce is impunity. The PC companies that bundle Windows with their hardware are held blameless for the glaring defects in Windows. The IT managers who buy company-wide Windows licenses are likewise insulated from the rage of the workers who have to use Windows and other Microsoft products.

Microsoft doesn't have to care if you hate it because, for the most part, it's not selling to you. It's selling to a few decision-makers who can be wined and dined and flattered. And since we all have to use its products, developers have to target its platform if they want to sell us their software.

This rarified position has afforded Microsoft enormous freedom to roll out harebrained "features" that made things briefly attractive for some group of developers it was hoping to tempt into its sticky-trap. Remember when it put a Turing-complete scripting environment into Microsoft Office and unleashed a plague of macro viruses that wiped out years worth of work for entire businesses?

https://web.archive.org/web/20060325224147/http://www3.ca.com/securityadvisor/newsinfo/collateral.aspx?cid=33338

It wasn't just Office; Microsoft's operating systems have harbored festering swamps of godawful defects that were weaponized by trolls, script kiddies, and nation-states:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EternalBlue

Microsoft blamed everyone except themselves for these defects, claiming that their poor code quality was no worse than others, insisting that the bulging arsenal of Windows-specific malware was the result of being the juiciest target and thus the subject of the most malicious attention.

Even if you take them at their word here, that's still no excuse. Microsoft didn't slip and accidentally become an operating system monopolist. They relentlessly, deliberately, illegally pursued the goal of extinguishing every OS except their own. It's completely foreseeable that this dominance would make their products the subject of continuous attacks.

There's an implicit bargain that every monopolist makes: allow me to dominate my market and I will be a benevolent dictator who spends his windfall profits on maintaining product quality and security. Indeed, if we permit "wasteful competition" to erode the margins of operating system vendors, who will have a surplus sufficient to meet the security investment demands of the digital world?

But monopolists always violate this bargain. When faced with the decision to either invest in quality and security, or hand billions of dollars to their shareholders, they'll always take the latter. Why wouldn't they? Once they have a monopoly, they don't have to worry about losing customers to a competitor, so why invest in customer satisfaction? That's how Google can piss away $80b on a stock buyback and fire 12,000 technical employees at the same time as its flagship search product (with a 90% market-share) is turning into an unusable pile of shit:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Microsoft reneged on this bargain from day one, and they never stopped. When the company moved Office to the cloud, it added an "analytics" suite that lets bosses spy on and stack-rank their employees ("Sorry, fella, Office365 says you're the slowest typist in the company, so you're fired"). Microsoft will also sell you internal data on the Office365 usage of your industry competitors (they'll sell your data to your competitors, too, natch). But most of all, Microsoft harvest, analyzes and sells this data for its own purposes:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/25/the-peoples-amazon/#clippys-revenge

Leave aside how creepy, gross and exploitative this is – it's also incredibly reckless. Microsoft is creating a two-way conduit into the majority of the world's businesses that insider threats, security services and hackers can exploit to spy on and wreck Microsoft's customers' business. You don't get more "too big to care" than this.

Or at least, not until now. Microsoft recently announced a product called "Recall" that would record every keystroke, click and screen element, nominally in the name of helping you figure out what you've done and either do it again, or go back and fix it. The problem here is that anyone who gains access to your system – your boss, a spy, a cop, a Microsoft insider, a stalker, an abusive partner or a hacker – now has access to everything, on a platter. Naturally, this system – which Microsoft billed as ultra-secure – was wildly insecure and after a series of blockbuster exploits, the company was forced to hit pause on the rollout:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/06/microsoft-delays-data-scraping-recall-feature-again-commits-to-public-beta-test/

For years, Microsoft waged a war on the single most important security practice in software development: transparency. This is the company that branded the GPL Free Software license a "virus" and called open source "a cancer." The company argued that allowing public scrutiny of code would be a disaster because bad guys would spot and weaponize defects.

This is "security through obscurity" and it's an idea that was discredited nearly 500 years ago with the advent of the scientific method. The crux of that method: we are so good at bullshiting ourselves into thinking that our experiment was successful that the only way to make sure we know anything is to tell our enemies what we think we've proved so they can try to tear us down.

Or, as Bruce Schneier puts it: "Anyone can design a security system that you yourself can't think of a way of breaking. That doesn't mean it works, it just means that it works against people stupider than you."

And yet, Microsoft – whose made more widely and consequentially exploited software than anyone else in the history of the human race – claimed that free and open code was insecure, and spent millions on deceptive PR campaigns intended to discredit the scientific method in favor of a kind of software alchemy, in which every coder toils in secret, assuring themselves that drinking mercury is the secret to eternal life.

Access to source code isn't sufficient to make software secure – nothing about access to code guarantees that anyone will review that code and repair its defects. Indeed, there've been some high profile examples of "supply chain attacks" in the free/open source software world:

https://www.securityweek.com/supply-chain-attack-major-linux-distributions-impacted-by-xz-utils-backdoor/

But there's no good argument that this code would have been more secure if it had been harder for the good guys to spot its bugs. When it comes to secure code, transparency is an essential, but it's not a sufficency.

The architects of that campaign are genuinely awful people, and yet they're revered as heroes by Microsoft's current leadership. There's Steve "Linux Is Cancer" Ballmer, star of Propublica's IRS Files, where he is shown to be the king of "tax loss harvesting":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/24/tax-loss-harvesting/#mego

And also the most prominent example of the disgusting tax cheats practiced by rich sports-team owners:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#economic-substance-doctrine

Microsoft may give lip service to open source these days (mostly through buying, stripmining and enclosing Github) but Ballmer's legacy lives on within the company, through its wildly illegal tax-evasion tactics:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/13/pour-encoragez-les-autres/#micros-tilde-one

But Ballmer is an angel compared to his boss, Bill Gates, last seen some paragraphs above, stealing the credit for MS DOS from Tim Paterson and billions of dollars from his co-founder Paul Allen. Gates is an odious creep who made billions through corrupt tech industry practices, then used them to wield influence over the world's politics and policy. The Gates Foundation (and Gates personally) invented vaccine apartheid, helped kill access to AIDS vaccines in Sub-Saharan Africa, then repeated the trick to keep covid vaccines out of reach of the Global South:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/13/public-interest-pharma/#gates-foundation

The Gates Foundation wants us to think of it as malaria-fighting heroes, but they're also the leaders of the war against public education, and have been key to the replacement of public schools with charter schools, where the poorest kids in America serve as experimental subjects for the failed pet theories of billionaire dilettantes:

https://www.ineteconomics.org/perspectives/blog/millionaire-driven-education-reform-has-failed-heres-what-works

(On a personal level, Gates is also a serial sexual abuser who harassed multiple subordinates into having sexual affairs with him:)

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/13/technology/microsoft-sexual-harassment-policy-review.html

The management culture of Microsoft started rotten and never improved. It's a company with corruption and monopoly in its blood, a firm that would always rather build market power to insulate itself from the consequences of making defective products than actually make good products. This is true of every division, from cloud computing:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/28/other-peoples-computers/#clouded-over

To gaming:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/27/convicted-monopolist/#microsquish

No one should ever trust Microsoft to do anything that benefits anyone except Microsoft. One of the low points in the otherwise wonderful surge of tech worker labor organizing was when the Communications Workers of America endorsed Microsoft's acquisition of Activision because Microsoft promised not to union-bust Activision employees. They lied:

https://80.lv/articles/qa-workers-contracted-by-microsoft-say-they-were-fired-for-trying-to-unionize/

Repeatedly:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/activision-fired-staff-using-strong-language-about-remote-work-policy-union-2023-03-01/

Why wouldn't they lie? They've never faced any consequences for lying in the past. Remember: the secret to Microsoft's billions is impunity.

Which brings me to Solarwinds. Solarwinds is an enterprise management tool that allows IT managers to see, patch and control the computers they oversee. Foreign spies hacked Solarwinds and accessed a variety of US federal agencies, including National Nuclear Security Administration (who oversee nuclear weapons stockpiles), the NIH, and the Treasury Department.

When the Solarwinds story broke, Microsoft strenuously denied that the Solarwinds hack relied on exploiting defects in Microsoft software. They said this to everyone: the press, the Pentagon, and Congress.

This was a lie. As Renee Dudley and Doris Burke reported for Propublica, the Solarwinds attack relied on defects in the SAML authentication system that Microsoft's own senior security staff had identified and repeatedly warned management about. Microsoft's leadership ignored these warnings, buried the research, prohibited anyone from warning Microsoft customers, and sidelined Andrew Harris, the researcher who discovered the defect:

https://www.propublica.org/article/microsoft-solarwinds-golden-saml-data-breach-russian-hackers

The single most consequential cyberattack on the US government was only possible because Microsoft decided not to fix a profound and dangerous bug in its code, and declined to warn anyone who relied on this defective software.

Yesterday, Microsoft president Brad Smith testified about this to Congress, and promised that the company would henceforth prioritize security over gimmicks like AI:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/06/microsoft-in-damage-control-mode-says-it-will-prioritize-security-over-ai/

Despite all the reasons to mistrust this promise, the company is hoping Congress will believe it. More importantly, it's hoping that the Pentagon will believe it, because the Pentagon is about to award billions in free no-bid military contract profits to Microsoft:

https://www.axios.com/2024/05/17/pentagon-weighs-microsoft-licensing-upgrades

You know what? I bet they'll sell this lie. It won't be the first time they've convinced Serious People in charge of billions of dollars and/or lives to ignore that all-important maxim, "When someone tells you who they are and you get fooled again, shame on you."

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/14/patch-tuesday/#fool-me-twice-we-dont-get-fooled-again

[tangentiallly]

One way to spot patterns is to show AI models millions of labelled examples. This method requires humans to painstakingly label all this data so they can be analysed by computers. Without them, the algorithms that underpin self-driving cars or facial recognition remain blind. They cannot learn patterns.

The algorithms built in this way now augment or stand in for human judgement in areas as varied as medicine, criminal justice, social welfare and mortgage and loan decisions. Generative AI, the latest iteration of AI software, can create words, code and images. This has transformed them into creative assistants, helping teachers, financial advisers, lawyers, artists and programmers to co-create original works.

To build AI, Silicon Valley’s most illustrious companies are fighting over the limited talent of computer scientists in their backyard, paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to a newly minted Ph.D. But to train and deploy them using real-world data, these same companies have turned to the likes of Sama, and their veritable armies of low-wage workers with basic digital literacy, but no stable employment.

Sama isn’t the only service of its kind globally. Start-ups such as Scale AI, Appen, Hive Micro, iMerit and Mighty AI (now owned by Uber), and more traditional IT companies such as Accenture and Wipro are all part of this growing industry estimated to be worth $17bn by 2030.

Because of the sheer volume of data that AI companies need to be labelled, most start-ups outsource their services to lower-income countries where hundreds of workers like Ian and Benja are paid to sift and interpret data that trains AI systems.

Displaced Syrian doctors train medical software that helps diagnose prostate cancer in Britain. Out-of-work college graduates in recession-hit Venezuela categorize fashion products for e-commerce sites. Impoverished women in Kolkata’s Metiabruz, a poor Muslim neighbourhood, have labelled voice clips for Amazon’s Echo speaker. Their work couches a badly kept secret about so-called artificial intelligence systems – that the technology does not ‘learn’ independently, and it needs humans, millions of them, to power it. Data workers are the invaluable human links in the global AI supply chain.

This workforce is largely fragmented, and made up of the most precarious workers in society: disadvantaged youth, women with dependents, minorities, migrants and refugees. The stated goal of AI companies and the outsourcers they work with is to include these communities in the digital revolution, giving them stable and ethical employment despite their precarity. Yet, as I came to discover, data workers are as precarious as factory workers, their labour is largely ghost work and they remain an undervalued bedrock of the AI industry.

As this community emerges from the shadows, journalists and academics are beginning to understand how these globally dispersed workers impact our daily lives: the wildly popular content generated by AI chatbots like ChatGPT, the content we scroll through on TikTok, Instagram and YouTube, the items we browse when shopping online, the vehicles we drive, even the food we eat, it’s all sorted, labelled and categorized with the help of data workers.

Milagros Miceli, an Argentinian researcher based in Berlin, studies the ethnography of data work in the developing world. When she started out, she couldn’t find anything about the lived experience of AI labourers, nothing about who these people actually were and what their work was like. ‘As a sociologist, I felt it was a big gap,’ she says. ‘There are few who are putting a face to those people: who are they and how do they do their jobs, what do their work practices involve? And what are the labour conditions that they are subject to?’

Miceli was right – it was hard to find a company that would allow me access to its data labourers with minimal interference. Secrecy is often written into their contracts in the form of non-disclosure agreements that forbid direct contact with clients and public disclosure of clients’ names. This is usually imposed by clients rather than the outsourcing companies. For instance, Facebook-owner Meta, who is a client of Sama, asks workers to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Often, workers may not even know who their client is, what type of algorithmic system they are working on, or what their counterparts in other parts of the world are paid for the same job.

The arrangements of a company like Sama – low wages, secrecy, extraction of labour from vulnerable communities – is veered towards inequality. After all, this is ultimately affordable labour. Providing employment to minorities and slum youth may be empowering and uplifting to a point, but these workers are also comparatively inexpensive, with almost no relative bargaining power, leverage or resources to rebel.

Even the objective of data-labelling work felt extractive: it trains AI systems, which will eventually replace the very humans doing the training. But of the dozens of workers I spoke to over the course of two years, not one was aware of the implications of training their replacements, that they were being paid to hasten their own obsolescence.

— Madhumita Murgia, Code Dependent: Living in the Shadow of AI

[cipheramnesia]

Graft

In my rest time between one novel and the next I'm enjoying myself making a little spun sugar story about a cyberpunk pussy heist. It's meandering and heavy on imaginary slang but it's fun for me so here is the first half or third or so of it

First thing DeeDee noticed, her usual morning orgasm, or "morgasm," hadn't gone off.

She was late, and splashers crowded her A/V specs, screaming flashing neon yellow red blue promises, 10 water rat guaranteed each spin, stop here twenty percent off premium-vu, act now to get free oxy-sub, plus about fifteen past due blasters for her leg mods, dayclix, manudex upgrade, face plate, other parts. She could see a narrow sliver of her room through the MAds, and she had a scrips balance lockout from the cockout. Groaning with irritation, clawed her way off the cot to the 12-key hardline, unfolded her tongue socket and jammed the bcomp line in, clattering the set in frustration.

Half the blasters, most of the splashers dipped. She got back audio and waist downs and rolled. "Whoooo turned my hot shots off? Who left the wallEMP off!" Micro drones winged around the room popping ad spray and sonics, a few were clamped on her with other past due notes. "Water ration overdue, water ration exceeded" circled her biomech cat ears. Swatted a two or three, fell on the wall switch to jam on the Flyswatter. DeeDee figured a couple hundred overall went pop, trailed smoke down. Ad dust everywhere from the spray. One was on her face?

"I'm not best pleased!" she said to no one, expressing her displeasure. Swept dust and drone crumbs with her feet to space clear in her studio apartment slash office slash workspace slash bedroom slash kitchen, and crashed on the deskchair, slapping dpatches along her limbs and a compstik into her faceboard. "No hotshot no swatter, noncon facejacked?" She untangled her hair from the ecb-plugs on her face tech and grabbed her digiplate because she was slumming it, pouted while the scrips and drips that got dug into her software and hardware ate the big edit to the sky.

While she was waiting around for the MAds and spamware scan [MAdaSS], she finally got to look over the C-Clamp chastity boot locked to her pelvic slot with optional NoPro (tm) insert for prostate denial. "What's this horseshit, who did I fuck last night?" DeeDee did not know what horses were, she imagined they were a kind of bird. Pinged out for her custom built EX neurosynth neovag and got fuckall, which pissed her because the whole point was fuck all.

One by one her debuggers chirped, hopped onto her palm, drawered em, and slapped her basic as fuck face of the day on. Blessed she was with pristine sight of the world, not a nagnote or payscram in sight, just vext message notes, siggies, and a small alarm bell. "Shit, better get to work!"

Shoved cargo shorts over her cock locked personal pleasure slot, work boots, tanktop ("Asparagus for President" it said, from the infamous three way sudden death vote-off of '76), and jammed her comxcon into a free arm port before she flipped the sign to open at her door. "Gosh that was close, any customers?" She looked, a khakicollar dude held up a laptop plaintive, "My browser won't-" DeeDee slammed the door, "No customers! Another perfect day, hang up." Vext notes blinked aside for serious business now. She threw her shorts off. "Time to get outta this contraptamajig."

One angle grinder, one band saw blow torch, three axes, twelve hammers, and eighteen screwdrivers later DeeDee fucked her way through one after the other, even tried to plink the code. All this pouding and plethora of penetrarive pelvic parts frustrated her to rolling her bedsheets into her crotch and grinding on the best metal chastity could buy. She drooled all over her aching synthezized nerve spots, "fuck me I can't even cum, what's wrong with the world these days?"

Vexts, vexts, she clicked the note up it said: ANSWER YOUR CALLS and >:( >:( >:( >:(

The incoming piddy was the UNKNOWN ID scrap, she dropped a spam cage on it and replied 8===D~~~ GFYS and binned it mid-[... is typing]

Fuck fuckity fuck work, DeeDee needed some downtown deep sea diving. She climbed out the window, being more reliable than stairs or elevator. Nothing worked in the damn building except gravity.

Short and sweet broke beat sidewalk street, she hit so many concrete cracks, DeeDee figured the local maternity wards had to be a massacre. A couple dozen micros blasted ad spray and sonics, she flipped a bug zapper and swept em. Ads were going old school, nanoswarms warred over wallspace in constant barage of microsensors, hurling rainbow swirls that paced over the odd window and traffic signal promising six months free tubespace per dayclix.

ANSWER YOUR CALLS RIGHT NOW 😡😡😡😡

"Oh fancy fucks spending on the megs per pixel now?" DeeDee spamcanned again (GFYS) and freeloaded on a driverless with a buncha other local goons. "Hey ratbot, you headin to the VFW too?"

"It's a coffee barrr, Draftie," he replied. DeeDee called him ratbot because he was a planned obsolescence warbot with artificial intelligence generated by a rat brain daisy chain, real preschooler level tech these days but cheap and easy at the time and twice as disposable as a human soldier. "And for the last time my name is Wendell. Wendell Crawford."

She still didn't know why he had a Boston accent, the whole city had been totalled in the second Great Mega Pileup Traffic Jam six years before the manufacturer date on his tread guards. He called her Draftie because her legal name was Draft Dodger due to a mistake in one of her prison ID cards. "C'mon, it's Morca's."

"Ignore her, babe," Bobby, ratbot's partner, tugged him a fraction of an inch away on the driverless rooftop. Legally speaking Bobby was Wendell's owner because the corporate manufacture-state that made him refused to recognize his personhood. Morca's owner, SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE, had been helping with their legal battle, but they hadn't made much progress. Total bullshit, DeeDee thought but last big corplex suit against SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE made em keep her in life support parts forever, cleared out all mines from international waters, and her entire species were considered a recognized nation encompassing all oceans on Earth. Did great things for the environment, terrible for the war business.

They hopped at the block, batted some more ad spray and DeeDee knocked some local splashers with the hotshot, enjoyed watching ratbot snap micros in half with his plastic fingers, inhuman accuracy, "Still got it babe," said Bobby, hugging his blocky arms.

They pushed through the big, rocketproofed front doors under a blinking neon "Morcha Latte" sign, inside was all plastic and vulcanized rubber with DV light and fake windows to make the warehouse sized bunker building feel cozy. SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE claimed it was stress tested up to three directs from sunburst corebuster and who was going to argue with a two storey cyborg?

The overheads churned out the latest scrape40, whatever they were listening to at the bottom of the ocean, today DeeDee thought it sounded like angry plinko machines fighting while she caught lyrics she understood in bits and pieces, "Strangle me, strangle all my life, drag us through the silt and kill in the light," or something like that. She was a regular at Morca's because she got SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE all her jailbroken subscription free parts - sourcing and scouring unclocked mods and squids was her gig anyway. She dumped her ass into a rickety old carbon fiber woven chair between the door and the juke wall. A bunch of hipsters had early adopted save to disc memory uploads but went with vinyl to capture the true soul, now they spent all day slotted into the giant juke machine with impulse fed nerve endings bathed in chemically sterilized vats of coffee.

DeeDee unzipped her shorts and capped the chastity blocker. ARE U SEEING THIS? vexted to Portland. They knew all the high mods, probably could crack her case, she thought, right before let's just say a jolt, a singing high note, transported her from crotch to sternum then dropped her cold. Half a sec from climax, she looked around the room her digiplate all 0_0 not finding a shred of note, til the second song struck her off her seat and got her writhing on the rubber. Customers at the other tables lifted cups and rekeyed their MAdaSSes to tune her out.

"Hot pants!" she yelled, "Liar pants, falsehoods and flame!" Real old gen VR heads turned in annoyance as she pirouetted through tables and rattled silverware clung to the espresso countertop. Her legs kicked about in frustration as she got edged up and dropped. "H-hey Velllma, mind if I borrow the steamer a hot sec?"

"Sure DeeDee, you know you only gotta ask hun. Want-want s-some sug- Sorry, still got that old tick." Velma was a self-operated point of sale holodrone who DeeDee had jacked, glassed, and juiced to someone more independent for handling orders at Morca's, and she'd done a recent SRS download to her visual interface.

"You're the best Vel." Few seconds later DeeDee steamed her crotch full blast trying to bust herself free or bust herself off.

ANSWER YOUR CALLS NOW OR YOU'LL NEVER CUM AGAIN, BITCH

She slipped off the espresso machine and answered from the floor with her feet still resting against the countertop. "Who are you, and what was the safe word? Last night's a blur."

"No safeword. We have your cunt. Meet at the bench, corner of Morgan Stanley Park Avenue and Kern Holding Street. Alone, one hour."

It was one thing to jailbreak, but DeeDee knew her limits and line trace was one so she snagged and bagged the pins and held a little inside sacrifice to Portland, the premier polymath polycule who surgically interconnected their brains inside a single body to share one another for life. One bit of Portland code gold and she'd be swimming in pussy. "You're on the floor, DeeDee," reminded Velma.

"This is my thinking space, hush up while I ponder the infinite." She could a couple a SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE's legs pacing, shaking the floor, could catch a word back in the beyond warehouse room where a couple cracked up Kilowais were chattering out notation and legal docstacks for Flathead Ford. The Kilowais, KBW trademarked AI, were way old corpsec, patented and trademarked download of a heavy hitter bandsaw from his day, couldn't be pirated off the base personality unless they morally agreed to void their warranty, lots in the circ. Ford was SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE's lawyer, fighting the landslide for ratbot on the orca's tab.

PORTLAND WILL SEE YOU NOW, DeeDee flixed over from the viz to the vurt. "Are you still thinking dear?" Velma asked, pointedly moving her legs to start espresso dripping, DeeDee assumed the obvious silently as penance. "How's it hanging y'all, got any hot new brains to hook into the juice party?" Loaded upside down in the polygon pleather chair, Portland ran clix and adspace in a tasteful wall scroll, kind of an art to the exploit, less brute force than DeeDee's prefs, the smooth outer chassis for Portland said "I'm punching out in a minute."

They were an individualized amalgamation of three physical brains psychosurgically visected into one another, enabled to a custom body and lifetime committed to singulamory. "I'm cock locked out, Port, listen," DeeDee shoved two fingers to her mouth and slathered her togue along them for a sensiosync to the cursed crotch clamp. Portland's digits ghosted through the stats, pulled em and vexted. "What's the damage, how much and how soon?"

"Custom work, charming darling." Portland leaned their trilateral symmetric body back, waved away the middle and spread up DeeDee's alt, nerves and all. "Fused the long way up your spinal cord. Biolocked, meat stuff. Not our forte, darling, and you couldn't afford it if it was." Portland sighed, overcome with vaporous boredom. "Even if we knew the lockout, custom viropicks run more than your last ten years income, pussycat."

"Fuck my life, stay outta my taxes, gimme something at least." DeeDee yanked her slobbered fingers out.

"It's good work, better than you're ever worth, and I'd know - I sourced half your body."

"One third but whatever."

"The good news is, you'll probably not get spinal meningitis from the lockout, just don't leave it too long." DeeDee punched out and heaved a floor heavy sigh. "Guess I really better go make that meet, or I could desperately call everyone I know and owe." After desperately calling everyone she knew, DeeDee said, >:( to the ceiling, "I guess I'm going to the meet with these mysterious pussy theives. I spent good money on that cunt too!"

"How's that search going," Velma stood between DeeDee's legs and frothed artificially thickened protein strings for someone's café au lait.

"Velma... Velma, have I been karmically centered would you say? Have the scales of justice been tipped cruelly against me, the most innocent of girls? Would you walk on me for twenty bucks?"

So Velma kicked off her shoes but not even getting used as a doormat got her off the edge, then SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE looked through her office door.

"Velma, put your shoes on, DeeDee leave your shirt off and pay Velma another twenty." The average AlTrek 4X Infrantry Multiplier AC was rusting out in uninhabitable desert to the beat of radioactive decay, major outliers were in use for specialized valet parking and the life support framework for SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE, approximately 1/3 of an orca left over from an underwater mine in a corpwar trading route blow up.

No one argues with two tons of whale who already won a fight with the government and the major corptrade conglomerate general council strapped inside another 12 odd tons of mechanized power, DeeDee tucked her shirt behind her head and hoped someone around here appreciated her tits. >:0 "These are pristine, you jackoffs, classic CW models, OEM to spec!" She shoved them in the direction of the tables, no one looked.

"Dee." Flathead beckoned, DeeDee called to the beck and slashed backwards on a metal chair. "You're keyed up to vandal, girl. Listen, need a filter swap for my client. Upgrade the whole box if you can scratch it up, figure me?"

"Square it with me, Ford, my tits still hot?" (*´_`) She leaned way in, specced the side-eye from SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE through the tanktint windows, right figure whales are mammals too.

Flathead's oily eyes under that heavybrowed custom lawframe job in his skull slid along DeeDee, back to her digital pleading @_@ and shrugged. "You know I don't do organic."

"Fuck! I'm-" She pulled her shirt down. "I'm late, I'll hustle up a nextgen, usual rate."

"Sure sure. Clean it, client says this one makes everything taste like hot dogs."

"How's she know what a hot dog tastes like even where'd she get..." DeeDee vocalled on the downlow out the side office door, left ratbot and Bobby hankin paperwork in whatever new angle Ford was playing at. Color searing eyes blasted the world round her with sound again. Splasher and flasher swarmed the Mocra doors hungrily.

DeeDee swiped onto a delivery drone blowing down the sidewalk, vanished in a cloud of disintegrating adspray and splasher dust. Clix and spinners streaked her A/V edge while she fingerbanged the tamperfree(tm) deep into the loving waiting GPS and flushed it. Kern Holding halved the ad sprays, stuck her on a halfsec blind wait to cycle over the MAdaSS.

Didn't look half priced up over the viz, real park space and algea tanks, plastic green, trueviz rooftop boards and splashers all reigned in. Not many places scratched up enough to pay for gray but Kern and Morgan Stanely did. "Fuck where's this guy." Hustle and crowd pressed close round the bench powerbricks, all these droners worked virtual right on the walkway.

Coats slid up too personal in a curl, this guy has legs on legs and teeth like insect legs, curling open near DeeDee's whimsical cat-ear mods. "Let's private" it skittered those fine metal teeth to her mask glass, and made her go all >.<; with each word. "Whatever." She wrapped digits round multisegment hands and clasped private-public lines, perfect prophylactic for keeping conversing on the hush-hush without a fatal social disease.

"Why the cold brush, kittykat, doncha trust much," it thrummed in silk smooth inside sounds around the wire.

"Don't test my taps, snatcherino," she dropped an icicle hiss down the line. Hand in hand and out for a stroll through the walking workdead and high class bluemaroon adspray of the other side.

"Fair enough kitty, coulda had more playtime." It was wrapped up head to toe other than the segments in her hand and legs slipped in between bandages on its head. "Giving you a hot tip, fresh filter refurb, ex-corp sub and modded for ox, great deal for you. Free and install formatted."

"Real bargain bin I spec."

"No clones, no rebadge. I'll drop the pickup, all you do is courier like a good girl. No messing, no poking the drivers and wares, from your hands to the orca, and forget we talked. That's all." A ripple of excitement went through the walking workdead, furiously chattering through corp trades.

"Figure that filter's plenty safe. Figure that's why all the cloak n bullshit pussy snatching. Pure charity, no?"

"Trust, nothing's on your hands after this and you go back to nightly custom fingerbangs." Twenty insect legs curled around the cuff of its coat and withdrew.

"Might run this up a few contacts first."

"Might drop your filthy cunt in sulfuric acid if you do, clear enough."

"Distilled, fine, hit me with the deets."

Deet dusted, connect busted, DeeDee blew bowed kisses with fuck off finger flourishes while she walk backwards up an exec driverless, scuffing up the ten cent gloss on a two cent primer dip. Rolled with the high rollers through the Red Riser strip. She cut through the Whipping Whirlpool, high stakes operator she cut some autonomics for - head/body gamblers all got off on taking a chance on having their bodies wired in to fuck off enough debt to reattach their heads, double or nothing down to win a brand new model. Not a sale or soul DeeDee made, her personal opinion but no judgment. Slipped out the back door after a little slap and tickle pass through.

The back alley cut between WW and topline exec condoslugs, custom body stim tubes for a full home holistic virtual life, and the whole alley was packed with nimbyronment sentiels. Rained here so no one else got wet, wastecycle rats and sewer filters crowded up and down the black wet brick. DeeDee stepped live around the hyperaggro antipestation roachhives then out to the big blaze - adcolor burst wide round her as she hit the main road looking for drones and anthills.

No broker worth a salt shake missed out on bread crumbs and sugar crystals, and DeeDee doled em from her cargo pants pocket. Can't do acquisitions and void warranties without a big juiced net, a dropin with Guts was neg, hadda go pre-analog here full on prehistoric. Dime blaster swarmed each scrap, cheap motion sensitive, to small for spray. Rats bright and ready for fission snagged, but the bait made do and the march of Colony made its unerring path a bead of tiny black dots to DeeDee.

"Sweet sWeet sweEt bread Gluten carbo yeaSt verY Good sweet swEet yes." Couple hundred ants jeweled DeeDee's ears pretty as you please and twice as small. Colony sees all, knows all, lives everywhere, that singularly focused consciousness inside immeasurable ants. It all farmed belowground, and DeeDee got in the know when her mini-fridge busted.

No dropin, no line out, no unlink or download - just neko a horminga and her lips to Colony's ears.

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[astromancy-divinare]

The Indu Lagna is your ascendant of WEALTH💰

The calculation for figuring out your Indu Lagna is complicated but luckily I use Vedic astrology software that calculates where your specialty lagnas are located.

By moving the house where your Indu Lagna is located into the 1st house position, this turned version of your natal chart becomes your Indu Lagna chart.

Planets that are in angular and/or trine houses from your Indu Lagna will ✨💰bless you with increased wealth💰✨ during their Dasha periods. Planets that are in the 6th house, 8th house and/or 12th house from your Indu Lagna will 💔create financial challenges and potential losses💔 during their Dasha periods.

The Vedic astrology software I use called Jhora even provides your Dasha period based on your Indu Lagna.

I checked my current Indu Lagna Dasha period and compared it to my Indu Lagna chart and it made complete sense, it was 100% correct and accurate!

I'm now including a section on your Indu Lagna and your Indu Lagna's Dasha periods over the next 20 years in my 💼 Career & Finances 💰 reading.

Career & Finances reading $70

In this reading I explain:

What your life purpose is.

What you're destined to do for a career.

Your financial destiny based on your D2 Hora chart

The time periods over the next 20 years when you'll experience financial abundance, potential financial problems, and an increase in activity and change within your career.

I do this by analyzing the following placements in your D1 natal chart and D10 Dasamsa chart:

Rahu placement (aka North Node)

Venus placement

Jupiter placement

2nd house lord placement

10th house lord placement

11th house lord placement

I include your best astrocartography lines with screenshots that would benefit your career and income if you were to travel to or move there.

I also analyze your Indu Lagna and Sri Lagna in your D1 natal chart and provide your Indu Lagna Dasha periods AND Sri Lagna Dasha periods over the next 20 years! This is in addition to your D1 natal chart Dasha periods that apply to your natal chart and every divisional chart.

As I've already mentioned, your Indu Lagna is the ascendant of wealth and your Sri Lagna is connected to Goddess Lakshmi, the Hindu deity of wealth and abundance. The sign and house placement of your Sri Lagna tells you what Goddess Lakshmi wants you to do in order for her to grant wealth to flow into your life.

DM me or text me on WhatsApp if you'd like to book this reading!

The link to my WhatsApp is in my bio.

All of my readings are typed by me in report format and emailed to you in a PDF file.

I can accept CashApp, Zelle and PayPal:

CashApp: $AstromancyDivinare

Zelle: astromancy.divinare@gmail.com

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