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Delusional Opt Out: What Are You Opting Into?

বিভ্রান্তিকর অপ্ট আউট: আপনি কি নির্বাচন করছেন?

Wahnhaftes Opt-Out: Wofür entscheiden Sie sich?

Opción de exclusión delirante: ¿En qué estás optando?

Désinscription délirante : à quoi optez-vous ?

भ्रमपूर्ण ऑप्ट आउट: आप क्या चुन रहे हैं?

妄想オプトアウト: 何をオプトインしますか?

망상 선택 해제: 무엇을 선택하시겠습니까?

Opção de exclusão delirante: o que você está optando?

Бредовый отказ: на что вы соглашаетесь?

Sanrısal Opt Out: Neyi seçiyorsunuz?

Từ chối ảo tưởng: Bạn đang chọn tham gia điều gì?

妄想选择退出：您选择加入什么？

Welcome to the digital stage, a dazzling world where you, the streamer, take the spotlight, weaving stories and sharing moments in real-time. Here, speed isn't just a feature; it's the very essence of your performance, the heartbeat of your connection with a global audience. Yet, lurking in the shadows of this dynamic landscape is a notorious villain, a showstopper dreaded by performers and audiences alike: "Buffering." This unwelcome guest introduces annoying pauses during your live streams, holding your viewers in suspense, but for all the wrong reasons. It's the hiccup in your performance you didn't script, the unintended cliffhanger that can turn cheers into jeers. Not quite the dramatic twist you were aiming for, right? Enter the Hero: CDN to the Rescue! So, how do you keep the show going smoothly? The secret weapon against this pesky interruption is something called a Content Delivery Network (CDN). Picture a CDN as your behind-the-scenes crew, strategically positioned worldwide. Their mission? To ensure your live performance reaches the audience super fast, no matter where they're seated in the digital auditorium. How Does This Behind-the-Scenes Crew Work?(CDN) When you go live, rather than your performance trekking from a distant server (which gives buffering a chance to crash your show), it's broadcasted from the CDN team member nearest to your viewers. It's like having a local stage in every city, ensuring your performance is live and direct, without delay. Why This Matters to You, the Performer In a world where the audience's patience wears thinner than a tightrope, even a slight hiccup in your stream can lead to a mass exodus from your digital venue. That's where CDNs shine. They're the unsung heroes keeping the digital stage lit, ensuring your show flows without a hitch and your audience stays captivated. The Secret Sauce: 5centsCDN Among the cadre of digital stagehands, 5centsCDN steals the spotlight. With an extensive network ensuring your performance is as smooth as a rehearsed Broadway number, buffering doesn't stand a chance. Think of as your personal stage manager, guaranteeing a seamless show from curtain rise to curtain call. 5centsCDN Encore! The Standing Ovation Benefits Adopting a CDN isn't just about dodging buffering; it's like unlocking a chest of performance-enhancing treasures: : Like a world tour, a CDN takes your show to viewers far and wide, ensuring no fan misses out, no matter their locale. Global Audience Reach : Keep your audience's eyes glued with crystal-clear streaming, as vivid as live theater, making every detail and emotion pop off the screen. HD Quality : Your performance hits the stage faster than a tap dancer's feet, with nary a pause, keeping the rhythm and energy of your stream alive. Supercharged Speed : Safeguard your content like a backstage pass, keeping digital gatecrashers at bay and ensuring your exclusive content remains exclusive. Fort Knox Security : More show for less dough because an efficient stream doesn't drain your production budget, leaving more resources for creative endeavors. Cost Efficiency Casting Your CDN Sidekick Not all CDNs are ready for the limelight. When scouting for your streaming co-star, consider their global network, ability to dodge internet traffic jams, and, of course, the ticket price. It's like choosing the best supporting actor for your blockbuster show—a crucial decision that can elevate your performance. The Final Bow In the vast theater of the internet, your live stream deserves the main stage. Thanks to CDNs, you can give your audience the seamless, high-definition performance they came for. When it comes to ensuring that no single act is missed, 5centsCDN is the wingman every streamer dreams of. So, here's to uninterrupted streaming, standing ovations, and encores galore! As the curtain falls, remember, in the digital era, every streamer has the potential to be a global sensation. With CDNs like 5centsCDN in your corner, the world is your audience, and every stream is a chance to shine.

No Pause, All Applause: Elevating Your Live Streams with CDN Brilliance

কোন বিরতি নেই, সমস্ত করতালি: CDN ব্রিলিয়ান্সের সাথে আপনার লাইভ স্ট্রিমগুলিকে উন্নত করা৷

Keine Pause, nur Applaus: Verbessern Sie Ihre Live-Streams mit CDN Brilliance

Sin pausas, todo aplausos: eleva tus transmisiones en vivo con CDN Brilliance

Pas de pause, tous des applaudissements : améliorez vos diffusions en direct avec CDN Brilliance

कोई विराम नहीं, पूरी तालियाँ: सीडीएन ब्रिलियंस के साथ अपनी लाइव स्ट्रीम को उन्नत करना

一時停止なし、すべての拍手: CDN の輝きでライブ ストリームを向上

일시 정지 없이 모든 박수 갈채: CDN Brilliance로 라이브 스트림 향상

Sem pausa, todos aplausos: elevando suas transmissões ao vivo com CDN Brilliance

Никаких пауз, одни аплодисменты: улучшите качество своих прямых трансляций с помощью CDN Brilliance

Duraklatma Yok, Alkışlar: Canlı Yayınlarınızı CDN Mükemmelliğiyle Yükseltiyoruz

Không tạm dừng, tất cả đều vỗ tay: Nâng tầm luồng trực tiếp của bạn với CDN rực rỡ

没有停顿，掌声不断：利用 CDN 提升您的直播水平

Ever feel like your phone knows you better than your best friend? Does your newsfeed seem less like a window to the world and more like some weird fun-house mirror? Mine too. They may even be a little too good. And they’re only going to get better. But here's the secret: you can opt-out. A growing cadre of tech gurus, renegade artists and unstoppable activists are throwing a wrench in the system. Big Tech's algorithms are good. There was no escape. Breathe, eat, and sleep. That was all there was to life in the machine." - Aldous Huxley, Brave New World is not a word commonly used by the masses. The idea of independence feels like a betrayal. Talking about “freedom” sets off triggers. But autonomy is a dynamic force. Today it’s making a global comeback.  If you look closely you can spot it in  tech, art and activism. Autonomy It adapts and evolves with our ever-changing world. It’s a mindset that says “ ” I’m not going to be controlled by outside forces and external interests. Here’s some non-breaking news. The traditional work compact, in which employees traded hard work and loyalty in exchange for job security is shattered. Thought so. How many times have you gone job-hunting in your life? But consider this. boasts . He remixed the for the most recent Super Bowl in Las Vegas. DJ Steve Aoki more than 3 billion music streams NFL on CBS theme Here’s what he said at Gala Music: “In the 10 years I’ve been making music … six albums, and all those advances … in one drop last year in NFTs, I made more money.” - Steve Aoki Want to opt-out and join the revolution? Connect with techs and developers building a . Why give your personal information to some faceless corporation? web where you are in control Learn from artists minting their creations as . For the first time, it’s possible to cut out the middleman and take ownership of your work. Discover how activists bypass the financial gatekeepers. Now you can use crowdfunding to fuel your movements directly from the people. NFTs Keep reading to see how the coolest tools and platforms are putting you back in control. Let’s get this show on the road. Get ready for an empowered future. The Rise of Autonomy Early in my entrepreneurial journey, a millionaire mentor gave me some advice on autonomy. He said, “ How often are your decisions based on your own values and goals? Norm whoever controls your time controls your income. I suggest it be you who does it.” The concept drove my parents. “Get an education. Get a good job. Retire there.” In their day people often stayed with the same company for their entire career. They were even called “a company man” or “company gal.” Life goals consisted of building deep connections with colleagues and a strong sense of pride in your work. company loyalty https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4F9u8Z84YI&embedable=true Back then companies invested in their employees through training programs and full benefits. When I started in sales my big tech employer had a “no-layoff” policy (it ended while I was there). The global creator economy is projected to reach $104.2 billion by 2028, reflecting the increasing number of individuals leveraging online platforms to express themselves creatively and generate income independently. - Creator Economy Over the course of several decades, cracks began to appear in the model. Tech advancements led to increased job insecurity. One of the first job killers I remember was voicemail. Yep. It eliminated the need for receptionists to answer phones, take messages, and write them down on those little pink slips for salespeople returning to the office. Wage freezes and layoffs increased and the "good job" became less common. As the internet took hold in the 90’s globalization became sexy. The social contract between employer and employee collapsed, Companies chased cheap labor and maximum profits for shareholders -  wherever they could find them. But in public, they sought to maintain the illusion of the Golden Age. Their corporate PR departments were quite busy. Today despite the perception of freedom your autonomy is limited. own social media networks. They control the search engines and video production platforms. Their TOS and centralization secure their dominance. Maximize profits for the few. Sound familiar? This traditional model locks out millions of creators worldwide. Big tech giants “The goal of most people for the last half century was to get the good job that paid well with benefits..” - Anthony Spadafore, Director Pathfinders Autonomy Success Story My friend Sarah is a graphic designer with six years of experience. During the COVID-19 pandemic, she lost her job at a big ad agency. After chasing hundreds of job posts she decided to be her own boss. Now she works remotely as a freelance designer. Instead of being assigned clients, she sets her own schedule. Her boring projects got replaced by gigs that aligned with her interests. She earns more on her own than she did going into the office. And now she finds personal meaning in her work. The Back-to-Office Push and the Autonomy Challenge A remote work revolution is sweeping around the world. Set free from the confines of the physical office, employees are discovering a newfound sense of autonomy. Do you thrive in an environment tailored to your work style? Can you manage your schedule and responsibilities better with more flexibility? For most of us, the answer is YES! This newfound control increases productivity and boosts morale. Many companies are actively encouraging, some even demanding, a return to “in-office” work. Their  push-back against remote work poses a challenge to employee autonomy. But big business CEOs, government bureaucrats, and even Elon Musk don’t like it. Here's why: :  Remote work helps employees manage their work schedules around personal needs and responsibilities. If your productivity is solid and profits are up why poke the bear? A forced return to the office disrupts this balance and increases stress. Goodbye Flexibility, Hello Frustration : It’s the time and money stupid. We all have 24 hours in our day. Having to commute to the office, pay to park, and upgrade your wardrobe eats into personal time and monthly budgets. The impact on working parents or people with long commutes is huge. The Commute Crisis : Most employees I speak with enjoy the flexibility and convenience of working from home. Some never had this opportunity before COVID-19. Now they realize they can do their job more conveniently. Forcing them back into the office feels like a slap in the face. Morale Killer I think companies that are inflexible with remote work options will lose valuable talent. The job market is competitive. The creator economy allows people like my friend Sarah to level up their skills and create jobs for themselves. The pull of autonomy is strong. Collaboration: Tech, Art and Activism Disruption accelerates when tech, art and activism come together. From interactive installations to digital art platforms, technology has enabled artists to reach wider audiences. You can also spark important conversations about social issues and reform. Techpreneurs are launching tools that empower artists and activists. Modern artists are wielding technology to create art that raises awareness for social causes. Activist groups are reaching a global audience with every social media post. This is the future we're building. A world where creative expression meets social justice. And the power of technology is at the core. - Norm Bond Tech Creators Build Worlds Beyond Reality Tech developers and creators are building alternative platforms to traditional activities. Can you imagine stepping into a painting instead of just looking at it in a museum? You can with . Van Gogh Exhibit: The Immersive Experience The exhibition has been ! This blend of art and cutting-edge technology ranks among the 12 best immersive experiences in the world by CNN. touring since 2017 with +5,000,000 visitors Take a walk alongside Van Gogh during a visually rich journey. It’s a 20,000 square feet sound and light spectacular. The two-story projections leave visitors in awe. You discover the inspiration behind eight of Van Gogh’s iconic works. is one of my favorites. The Starry Night Artists Go Indie with Tech Blockchain technology provides innovative tools for artists to monetize their work through smart contracts, NFTs and crypto. This strategy allows creators to sell their work directly to collectors . Artists are creating digital art and minting it as NFTs. without the need for traditional galleries or intermediaries London's glitchy artist , averaging over $23,000 per sale and topping the charts. His work captivates collectors and redefines the limits of digital art. His signature style is a mesmerizing blend of flashing visuals and dark themes (his website includes a flashing media warning). XCOPY is minting millions with his dystopian NFTs Here’s the thing. XCOPY’s work isn't just visually arresting. Sure there are lots of flashy NFTs and dystopian styles. But his NFT’s spark conversations. He challenges the status quo in the art world. He’s using his creativity to provide a unique commentary on our digital age. . Is a sign of a future where artists control their destinies, or a blip in a system that still favors the powerful? Don’t just wait to see what happens. Take action on YOUR dream. Telling your own story and controlling distribution is an expression of autonomy XCOPY How Activists Use Tech to Win The murder of George Floyd was recorded and spread virally across social media. It ignited Black Lives Matter like a rocket. This wasn't just a tragic event. It was a spark that . The case study reveals how activists can use social media to amplify their message. Consider this. lit the fuse of a movement already simmering online In the month Floyd’s murder, was tweeted more than 400 thousand times. But in the month , the . before #BlackLivesMatter after hashtag spiked and was shared more than 100 million times Nordstrom posted #BlackLivesMatter to Facebook and received more than 5-million likes. The from the brand. engagement was nearly 90 times the level of typical posts Colleges and universities joined in. More than 107 shared . Healthcare systems, nonprofits, corporations, and sports teams also climbed on the #BlackLivesMatter juggernaut. #BlackLivesMatter The entire internet was ablaze with social posts, videos, CEO statements, and brand platitudes to support this trending social movement. It shook the system. The Future of Autonomy The dream of dumping the 9-to-5 and living life on your terms is more than just a hashtag. It’s a call to action. One fueled by a deep desire for autonomy – the freedom to create, work, and live by your own rules. Don’t let it just be a pipe dream. The total value locked (TVL) in DeFi protocols surpassed $300 billion in 2023, demonstrating the growing interest in alternative financial systems that promote individual control over assets and transactions. - DeFi Pulse Revolutionary art movements, tech-driven innovation, and modern activism are converging. This shift provides a path to an exciting future. Break free from traditional structures. Now is your chance to build something empowering. It's a world where you can set the pace, call the shots, and shape your days around your passions. There are lots of challenges ahead. Working together is often necessary for maximum impact. Finding the right balance between maintaining individual artistic vision and working within a collective - can be difficult. But let's keep it real. Breaking free from traditional structures means leaving the financial security that these systems can provide. Artists, activists and techs still have bills to pay. Do you have alternative means of funding your work in place? With the rise of new technologies, there’s a need to ensure that ethical practices are followed. You need to address concerns regarding data privacy. There are questions regarding intellectual property rights to be sorted. The environmental impact of tech-driven projects like crypto and NFTs are a dealbreaker for some people. These challenges will have to be met to increase adoption and scale. They require innovative solutions, resilience and funding. To build a more equitable and creative future demands continuous learning and adaptation. Conclusion We’ve covered a lot. You know the journey toward autonomy is an exciting yet challenging one. This trend in tech, art and activism is attracting more people looking for a way out. The digital age provides new tools to take control of your life. It has never been easier to express yourself and reach a target audience. Artists can leverage blockchain technology. Tech creators can build alternative platforms. Activists can fuel movements without traditional limits. Working collectively can exponentially grow results for both individuals and organizations. But the road ahead is not all roses and sunshine. Challenges include navigating concerns about the environment. Ethical considerations riddle the increased use of AI and ML. Building tools that engage marginalized communities is critical in a market-based economy. Long-established traditional systems are not going to just roll over and embrace change. So take the long view if you want to embrace this autonomy trend. If you’re an artist, technologist or activist it’s time to redefine the possible. I’m in. Let’s create and cause the change you want to see. right here on HN to connect. Visit my profile

Breaking Rules: Autonomy in Tech, Art and Activism

নিয়ম ভাঙা: প্রযুক্তি, শিল্প এবং সক্রিয়তায় স্বায়ত্তশাসন

Regeln brechen: Autonomie in Technologie, Kunst und Aktivismus

Rompiendo reglas: autonomía en tecnología, arte y activismo

Briser les règles : autonomie dans la technologie, l'art et l'activisme

नियम तोड़ना: तकनीक, कला और सक्रियता में स्वायत्तता

ルールの破り: テクノロジー、アート、アクティビズムにおける自律性

규칙 위반: 기술, 예술 및 행동주의의 자율성

Quebrando regras: autonomia em tecnologia, arte e ativismo

Нарушение правил: автономия в технологиях, искусстве и активизме

Kuralları Çiğnemek: Teknolojide, Sanatta ve Aktivizmde Özerklik

Phá vỡ các quy tắc: Quyền tự chủ trong công nghệ, nghệ thuật và hoạt động

打破规则：科技、艺术和行动主义的自主性

A lone boy stood, staring at the star-speckled sky, his mind drawn to the girl just a few feet from where he lay. She was a beauty, that one. He couldn’t believe she was his. Every single thing she did screamed Art. The way she linked her fingers together, the way she smiled. The one girl who knew so much about him, yet… she didn’t shy away from his questionable past. As the emotions threatened to pull him under, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and face what was before him. “A shooting star!” She screamed in excitement as she pointed at that far-off speck in the sky, becoming larger and larger by the second. “That is no shooting star.” He managed to say, fear clogging his throat. He took in the lush grass swaying in the night wind, the beauty of the stars that more or less blotted out the sky. Then, he turned to look at the girl on the ground a few feet away. She was sitting up by then, fear morphing her once beautiful features into something unspeakable. “What is that?” Her voice quaked as she asked, and he closed his eyes momentarily to stop the bile from going up his throat. “Our death.” He said, not mincing words. His throat bobbed with unspoken words and something else underlying. “I’ve always loved you. I just- I just wanted you to know. This once.” He squeezed the words out of his mouth, wrangling them like one would do to a piece of wet cloth. “You? I’ve always seen you as just a friend.” She turned towards him then, his eyes red from tears. But he was grateful for that moment. He got her to look at him finally. And her eyes shone with regret. The screams came first as the she saw earlier was big enough to blot out the stars in the sky. And the heat. God, the heat. He felt as though he was being cooked from the inside out. shooting star The sky boiled like a cauldron; giant drops of fire rained down from the clouds, turning the lush green grass into something out of Hades’s fantasy. Blades of grass crumbled before his eyes. Withering without as much as a touch from him and fizzing out of existence, flames taking its place. The greenery is overtaken by the force that darkened the universe and turned rivers into lakes of fire. She screamed the most. He didn’t. He just watched the shooting star fall and gave a small smile. She was never his to own anyway. * Darren. That was his name. The man-boy with the power to manipulate space at his whims. He was a prodigy even among his peers in Earth 75. They had hoverboards to trapeze through space. That’s right, hoverboards. Fuelled with nothing more than gravel and sand. “Gloating again? That’s not very of you.” He rolled his eyes at the voice that came from just behind him. Glenna. His childhood friend. If you can count a hundred years as childhood. Before they settled—before the metamorphosis, they never grew older than the teenage age. But, after settling for five years and being a pain in the butt for half of those he called his cadre, he realized that he was ready for metamorphosis. But then, Glenna wasn’t. Hence, he had to stop halfway and wait for her to be. ladylike “I’m not a lady, for crying out loud. This is argument number what? Five thousand and seven?” He groaned, using flawless fingers to massage his forehead. Glenna just laughed as she walked towards him. Or, more like, she glided. She had more interest in the hoverboards than he did. The room was no larger than two children’s playroom, yet it had enough space due to his meticulousness. Not a strand of space is out of place, exactly how he wanted it to be. “Number five thousand and eight. You missed one.” She laughed, planting a wet kiss on his skin. He would have gone as red as beetroot if she didn’t deftly move the conversation elsewhere. “So, I need to weave a new dress. You’ve been called a genius for so long that it has become music to my ears. I need a strand of space to weave into a cloak I’m almost done making.” She tendered her request before him, and he took in her presence. She was young, after refusing the metamorphosis for the third time. Yet.. she had eyes of peace. The brown of her irises reminded him of worlds he hadn’t dared to touch for fear of breaking them apart. He’d seen them in his wakings. They were peaceful and oh, so beautiful. The serenity in them was what drew him to them at first. “Okay, I will. But why just a strand? Why not a whole chunk?” He asked as she raised her eyebrows at him, and he almost melted into the chair he sat on. If you can call it sitting. It was a haphazard view, an upturned table, yet he was upright. The world he’d come to know extended universes and eternities. It was a world of madness, but at least it was his. “One sec.” He said, raising his hand in mock surrender. Then, everything stopped. As his concentration cleared the level of the primordial beings, he tore a portal through the world. It was a red wiggly thing struggling to close, but he held it open with sheer willpower alone. When he found out that portals were alive, he decided to lord over them one way or another. They didn’t make it easy for him, though. While it wiggled, he stretched a hand into the portal and drew a strand out of that limitless vastness, loping it through his fingers like a struggling worm. It shimmered in and out of existence, blue like the untold skies, red as fiery dragons and demons of worlds he’d only read about. “Got you.” He smiled as he held a strand. Then, the world went to hell. Before he could remove his hand from the portal, it yawned like a gaping chasm and swallowed him whole. He was screaming, but Glenna was still in timeless mode. She wouldn’t know what happened. That is mercy. That has to be. Then, the world shut itself as the portal consumed the world he’d known all of his existence and winked out of reality. The screams didn’t come. Nothing did. * Carrion. That was his name. His name. His name. He tried to hold on to it, but it slipped out of his grasp like an eel, and he followed after it, crawling after his name with it on the tip of his tongue. What was his name again? Ca.. Ca what? What was his name? The man with scars lining his body like the universe's stars was lost. He tried to think. He tried to remember where he was. Yes. He was fighting Archanoid—the mother of spiders. One could even call her a deity. He dodged an incoming web made of madness and silk, woven with anger and hate. She was large, towering above him like he was a pesky fly. He hated that. He was the warrior who battled nightmares and abominations. He had to win. But then, what was his name? His name.. what was it again? He flew out of the way as an incubator shattered where he stood one second earlier. She wasn’t playing. “Foolish mortal. Do you think you can harm me? It doesn’t matter who you are, World Walker. You can’t escape from me.” She spoke, venom dripping out of those pincer-like things. They made a clanging sound as he swallowed, looking into those red eyes that had intelligence to them, something beyond the years. “One last chance. I will give it to you. Remember, pride and ego cannot win this war. Maybe you and the others can.” And then, before he could ask what she meant.. a scary sharp finger elongated from her finger, and she him out like a fly. flicked There was screaming. And then, there was nothing. * He woke up with a groan. There were several groans across him, and he was shocked to realize that he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t scorched. But he didn’t remember what his name was. He remembered her, recognized the girl who took him as a friend before the world became a sea of fire. Why, then, was he unhurt? The others stood on shaky feet, an otherworldly feel to them. There was something he just couldn’t place. They wore things he’d never heard of, or perhaps the dark skins rippling with fire and the darkness of the deep. Maybe it was the blades of darkness in the place where teeth were meant to be, but there was something.. out of place. One of them wore nightmares on his skin; he could see death. Death rippled with muscles and scars that seemed to blot out the skin. But strangely, he didn’t feel fear. “So, an explanation is in order?” He said to no one in particular. Even the being who looked as though he was 25 and 15 at the same time. As though the world couldn’t decide on his age and let him be both instead. He noticed that this being wasn’t standing on his two feet. He was.. hovering. “We’ll see soon enough.” A boy his age spoke, and he stared at him in wonderment, wondering how alike they were. The way the boy squinted made it glaring that he used glasses to see. Same with him. Even though he didn’t even know their names, they were about ten. Some had hands for feet, and others weren’t even walking on the bare ground. They just.. existed. There was no way to explain their existence, so he didn’t bother. “An explanation.. for this. All of this.” Another boy spoke, and he didn’t balk this time. He just waited. “Here it comes.” The boy who spoke was already running. “Here, what comes? What?” He asked, but everybody else had cleared out of that barren field. The world he was in was empty. There is no sign of green. No sign of brown either. It was as though the world was drained out of colour, and no matter where he looked, despair loomed. He felt them before he saw them. He knew who they were before they spoke. And even without an introduction, he knew everything about them. The Destroyers Of Worlds. They smiled; one hovered just like that man-boy. One had skin with uncountable scars. And then, he saw himself. That cruel smile, that deadly presence. He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Someone dragged him by the scruff of his hood, and he felt.. everything. There was no other way to describe what happened. Then, he turned to stare at the other him with a cruel smile as that being let out an inferno where he was standing a moment before. It was… hot. But strangely, he wasn’t burning. He wasn’t even singed. He was.. okay. The man-boy dropped him on the ground unceremoniously, and he muttered his thanks, but the others just raised their eyebrows, staring at the beings beyond them. Beings with their faces. Beings with enough power to destroy universes. It was them. Ageless. Timeless. With a snap of a finger, they were gone like they didn’t just lay waste to a large expanse of space. “I think I know what’s going on…” A tenacious finger went up, and the squinted boy was allowed to speak. “That is us. Timeless us. And.. we destroyed our universes. Now.. we have to fight against the us that are world destroyers.” “We don’t have a choice to decline?” The man-boy asked. “We have doomed worlds. This.. is penance.” The boy spoke again, his eyes filled with trepidation and resignation. “So, we were summoned here to kill our future selves? That’s a sick sense of humor.” “This world is sick, and when the Arachnoid told me, I didn’t believe it.” The man with the scars spoke, and his scars seemed alive, melding with his body. “Can you tell us what an Arachnoid is?” Another asked. So, he told them. Everything. “Pride and ego, huh?” A guy spoke, and they finally understood what they had to do. “This is depraved. All of this. Depraved. What the hell?” He spoke, shaking with anger. “Hell doesn’t exist, apparently. Future us made sure the world became it.” A brittle laughter from the man-boy. “This is it, then? We die in a land of no name? Our names were stolen from us. I can’t dredge up a single memory.” The scarred man said, eyes smouldering. I could tell he was pissed off. “This is our penance.” The squinting boy said again, and I was tempted to throw him out of the universe. Such a goody two shoes. “I don’t care. Whatever I have to do, I will do it. And it doesn’t matter who’s on the line. I have to go back home. Also, you can’t fight fire with water. Not in my world, anyway. It takes a monster to kill another. We will take the unorthodox approach. Did they want to seclude us and destroy us? World Walkers, indeed. Bastards more likely. I won’t take that. Neither should any of you. We have the power. Can’t you feel it? We can change things.” The man-boy spoke fervently, his eyes filled with loss, anger, and something else. “That’s right. We won’t let them decide for us. If we have to die, we might as well raise hell before we do. Now, we need a name.” The hooded boy spoke, and the others nodded in approval. “How does sound?” There were hoots of approval, some going as far as clapping. Then, they stared at the sky at once. Drained of colour. But then, the World between Worlds had always been a resting place for World Walkers. The Restorer of Worlds They had to fight. And this time, they had to fight themselves. Their memories returned, and they could see themselves in the past, present, and future—the Destroyer of Worlds. No more. They decided not to make the same mistakes. Not again. This time, they’d restore all they destroyed. As the squinty-eyed kid said, it was penance.

PENANCE 

In the chaotic universe of the internet, there exists a despicable villain – content scraping. It's not just a technical jargon; it's a digital parasite sucking the life out of original publishers. Let's delve into the gut-wrenching reality of this cybercrime, a crime that doesn't just rob creators of their income but also stomps on the very soul of creativity. The Nasty Business of Content Scraping Imagine this: you pour your heart and soul into creating a piece of content. Late nights, coffee-fueled writing sessions, and battles with the blinking cursor – it's all part of the creative struggle. Now, out of nowhere, some soulless creature decides to swipe your creation without asking. This is content scraping – the art of theft in the digital age. Let’s first make it clear: I’m not talking about data scraping here. I’m talking about the monkeys who simply copy and paste whole articles or use an RSS feed scraper plugin to republish your content automatically. The Illusion of Inconsequence – A Sick Joke Oh, but some argue, "It's just information; it's meant to be free!" Well, let me tell you, that's a load of digital garbage. Creativity isn't free; it comes with a price – the price of time, effort, and sometimes, tears. Content scraping isn't sharing; it's stealing, plain and simple. Financial Gut Punch Original publishers aren't swimming in pools of gold coins. They rely on their content to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. Content scraping, however, throws a wrench into this delicate balance. Stolen content means stolen revenue. It's like having your wallet swiped by a digital pickpocket who smirks and walks away, leaving you to count the losses. SEO Headaches Search Engine Optimization is the unsung hero of digital visibility. Original publishers spend hours fine-tuning their content to climb the ladder, only to have content scrapers kick them back down. Search engines get confused, rankings plummet, and suddenly, the hard work of climbing to the top feels like it was for nothing. SEO Quality Butchered Ever had someone mess with your masterpiece? Content scraping isn't just about copying; it's about defacing. Your carefully crafted content might end up looking like a Picasso painting after a toddler got hold of it. It's infuriating, and the worst part? You can't do a thing about it. The Human Cost – Tears in the Keyboard We often forget there are real people behind those screens. Imagine the emotional rollercoaster of seeing your creation, your brainchild, mistreated and misrepresented. It's not just content; it's a piece of the creator's soul. Content scraping steals more than words; it steals the joy and passion that went into creating them. Legal Battles and the Endless Chase Sure, there are , but enforcing them feels like chasing ghosts in the digital labyrinth. Original publishers turn into digital detectives, trying to hunt down content scrapers in a never-ending game of hide-and-seek. The law exists, but it often feels toothless against these faceless thieves. copyright laws The Dark Side of Search Engines: How Google Turns It’s Back On Original Content Creators Original content creators are the unsung heroes, laboring to bring fresh and innovative material to digital platforms worldwide. However, the grim reality is that search engines, particularly Google, seem to care very little about the struggles of these creators. The heart of the issue lies in the merciless dance between new and established websites, where stolen content often triumphs over originality due to a . skewed sense of authority The Unfortunate Tale of the New Content Creator Imagine you're a budding content creator. You've just launched your own website, pouring your passion into crafting articles brimming with unique information, statistics, and insights gathered from real people through painstaking interviews. Your work is your pride, your website a beacon of creativity in the vastness of the internet. Enter the – the digital pirates and parasites of the web. Your meticulously created content is pilfered and republished on a well-established website with towering authority, an abundance of inbound links, and a lengthy digital legacy. RSS feed or content scraper The problem? Your fledgling website lacks authority in the eyes of search engines, setting the stage for a cruel injustice. The Authority Game: Stolen Content vs. Original Creation Google, in its algorithmic wisdom, assigns authority to websites based on factors like age, backlinks, and overall online presence. This, in theory, is meant to prioritize credible sources. However, in the real world, it often translates into an unfair advantage for content scrapers. As a new creator, you find your stolen content ranking higher on the search engine results pages (SERPs) simply because it resides on a site with more authority. Your original work, despite its brilliance and freshness, is relegated to the shadows, demoted and overshadowed by the ill-gotten authority of the content thief’s website. The Race Against Time: Google's Unresponsive Nature The injustice intensifies when you discover that your content has been stolen. You file a Google copyright report, hoping for swift justice. But alas, time is not on your side. By the time you find your content was stolen by a higher authority website and you file a to the point when Google takes action, the damage is done! copyright report The stolen content continues to thrive on the high-authority site, garnering new backlinks and awards, while you, the rightful creators, are left empty-handed. You see, when your content ranked on the other website, it was awarded links. And you, well, left to suffer and stripped of your awards, (Traffic and Links) The Intelligence Gap: Google's Failure to Recognize Original Talent Google, touted as the epitome of digital intelligence, falls short when it comes to distinguishing between stolen content and original brilliance. The algorithm's blind reliance on authority metrics neglects the essence of creativity, leaving talented publishers in the shadows of content scrapers. The prevalent issue of copyright infringement and content scraping has shed light on the limitations of current mechanisms in place for the protection of content creators. Despite Google's formidable arsenal of advanced algorithms, data scientists, and mathematical prowess, there remains a crucial gap in the recognition and attribution of original content. This proposal aims to address this discrepancy by suggesting a refinement in the post-copyright infringement resolution process, specifically concerning the redistribution of authority obtained from stolen content's hyperlinks. To put it simple, if your content was stolen, resulting in it ranking on the site that stole it above your own, and in that time the scraper site was awarded a few natural editorial links, well, once your copyright report is accepted the links that the offending site was referenced should be automatically reassigned behind the scenes to the original publisher’s site. (algorithmically) The Illusion of Algorithmic Omnipotence In the high-tech world of Google's advanced algorithms and data-driven decision-making, one would presume that determining the original publisher based on time and date stamps should be a straightforward task. However, the reality starkly contrasts with this assumption. The current system, despite its sophistication, fails to discern the chronology of content publication accurately, leaving content creators vulnerable to the theft of their intellectual property, traffic, editorial hyperlinks (not source links) and demoted content rankings. The Unfortunate Tale of New Content Creators When I initially launched my own , the SEO metrics authority score was zero. Before figuring out how to effectively block content scrapers using the exceptional service, my content was consistently stolen. tech news website Cloudflare It wasn’t until my news publication was a few years old and built some major authority and trust in the SERPS could I start beating the scrapers on their own game. This in itself took years of painstaking work, writing, original reporting, people networking and hundreds of copyright reports. Surprisingly, the stolen content even managed to rank on the first page of Google on the site that stole it from me. Consequently, I faced a complete loss of traffic, received no awards, and garnered no recognition for my hard work. I found it perplexing that a sophisticated and intelligent search engine, which claims to reward original content creators, would allow such incidents to occur. The Dilemma: A Massive and Intelligent Search Engine Falling Short It is perplexing to witness a massive and supposedly intelligent search engine--boasting a cadre of data scientists and state-of-the-art algorithms--faltering in its commitment to rewarding original content creators. The fundamental issue lies in the failure to prevent stolen content from overshadowing the original work, even when the timeline of publication is readily available. Proposal for Authority Redistribution Post-Copyright Resolution To rectify this disheartening scenario, it is proposed that Google implement a system wherein, upon successful copyright infringement resolution and removal of the stolen content, the authority gained from hyperlinks should be automatically redirected to the original publisher. This redirection would act as a symbolic acknowledgment of the rightful owner's contribution, compensating for the period when their content was unfairly overshadowed. Content Scraping Conclusion - The Final Rant. Content scraping is not a victimless crime; it's a violation of creativity, a slap in the face of hard work, and a ruthless attack on the emotional well-being of creators. It's time to stop treating it as a mere inconvenience and recognize it for what it is – a scourge on the digital landscape. We need not just awareness but a collective roar against content scraping. It's time to safeguard the sanctity of creativity, to stand up for the creators who breathe life into digital content, and to demand justice for the stolen pieces of their souls. Let's not let content scraping go unchecked; let's make some noise and put an end to this thievery.

Content Scraping: An Unforgivable Theft of Creativity

কন্টেন্ট স্ক্র্যাপিং: সৃজনশীলতার একটি ক্ষমার অযোগ্য চুরি

Content Scraping: Ein unverzeihlicher Diebstahl der Kreativität

Scraping de contenido: un robo imperdonable de creatividad

Content Scraping : un vol impardonnable de créativité

सामग्री स्क्रैपिंग: रचनात्मकता की एक अक्षम्य चोरी

コンテンツスクレイピング: 創造性の許しがたい窃盗

콘텐츠 스크래핑: 용서할 수 없는 창의력 도둑질

Raspagem de conteúdo: um roubo imperdoável de criatividade

Парсинг контента: непростительная кража творчества

İçerik Kazıma: Affedilemez Bir Yaratıcılık Hırsızlığı

Quét nội dung: Hành vi trộm cắp tính sáng tạo không thể tha thứ

内容抓取：不可原谅的创造力盗窃

U.S. Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas and His Powerful Billionaire Friends

মার্কিন সুপ্রিম কোর্টের বিচারপতি ক্লারেন্স থমাস এবং তার শক্তিশালী বিলিয়নেয়ার বন্ধুরা

Clarence Thomas, Richter am Obersten Gerichtshof der USA, und seine mächtigen milliardenschweren Freunde

El juez de la Corte Suprema de Estados Unidos, Clarence Thomas, y sus poderosos amigos multimillonarios

Clarence Thomas, juge de la Cour suprême des États-Unis, et ses puissants amis milliardaires

अमेरिकी सुप्रीम कोर्ट के न्यायाधीश क्लेरेंस थॉमस और उनके शक्तिशाली अरबपति मित्र

米国最高裁判所判事クラレンス・トーマスと彼の強力な億万長者の友人たち

미국 대법원 판사 클라렌스 토마스(Clarence Thomas)와 그의 막강한 억만장자 친구들

O juiz da Suprema Corte dos EUA, Clarence Thomas, e seus poderosos amigos bilionários

Судья Верховного суда США Кларенс Томас и его влиятельные друзья-миллиардеры

ABD Yüksek Mahkemesi Yargıcı Clarence Thomas ve Güçlü Milyarder Arkadaşları

Thẩm phán Tòa án Tối cao Hoa Kỳ Clarence Thomas và những người bạn tỷ phú đầy quyền lực của ông

美国最高法院法官克拉伦斯·托马斯和他有权势的亿万富翁朋友

Any views expressed in the below are the personal views of the author and should not form the basis for making investment decisions, nor be construed as a recommendation or advice to engage in investment transactions. In the dark ages before TikTok and Instagram entertained us with duck lips and alphabet luxury brands wearing peacocks, car rides used to be very boring – at least for me. I got car sick when reading, so my many five-to-six hour journeys between Buffalo, New York and Detroit, Michigan were bone-crushingly boring. I listened to a lot of banal radio. One particular show I remember was a cigar aficionado broadcast hosted by Cigar Dave. I don’t smoke – never have – but nonetheless I received an early education on the difference between Cuban and Dominican Republic tobacco wrapping methods. I sat through these treks in silence, because asking “are we there yet?” was pointless – I knew the kilometer markers on the Canadian QEW and 401 by heart. I’m sure my parents were at least pleased they didn’t have to put up with any whining as they focused on the road. Us market participants are not so patient with our journeys to amass more financial wealth. In our never-ending search for the next bull market, we routinely find ourselves asking, “are we there yet?”. And in the crypto markets specifically, we often ask when the dogshit we hold in our wallets will once again trade near the pico top of November 2021. The more savvy traders are looking for leading indicators that might suggest the bull market is nigh, with the goal of identifying exactly when to back up the truck and shovel in crypto. Like a pavlovian dog, we have been trained by our central wanker banker masters to buy financial assets whenever they either cut interest rates or print money in order to expand their balance sheets. We hang on these charlatans’ every word, hoping they will deliver the free money mana that powers risky asset returns. Fed Balance Sheet (white) and Bitcoin (yellow) indexed at 100 During the COVID Fed money printing bonanza, Bitcoin outperformed the growth of the US Federal Reserve’s (Fed) balance sheet by 129% – confirming that our Pavlovian instinct to invest on the proclamations of the false profit Powell (the Fed chairperson) has been quite profitable. Since the Fed started raising interest rates in March 2022, a cadre of macroeconomic analysts have been trying to guess when the Fed will stop. I have subjected readers to a number of – in my opinion – beautifully written essays that investigate the many reasons I believe the Fed hiking cycle will ultimately drive some sort of financial calamity that requires them to start cutting rates and expand their balance sheet. On March 10th of this year, Silicon Valley Bank and Signature Bank limped into the weekend with severely wounded balance sheets, courtesy of Fed policy. By Sunday night, it was clear that these banks were toast, and unless the Fed and US Treasury actually wanted to live the values of free market capitalism and let a poorly run TradFi business fail, some sort of bailout was forthcoming. Unsurprisingly, The Fed and Treasury intervened, and a bailout was offered in the form of the Bank Term Funding Program (BTFP). The BTFP offered an unlimited lifeline to the US banking system, whereby banks could hand their dogshit US Treasuries to the Fed and receive fresh dollars in return. These dollars were then given to depositors, who in turn chose to flee because money market funds (MMF) were offering >5% interest vs. a bank deposit interest rate of near 0%. This was the moment. I and many others believed the Fed was surely done hiking rates. The Fed’s real number one mandate is to protect banks and other financial institutions from ever failing, and the rot of underwater bonds was spread so wide and far throughout the financial sector that it threatened to take the whole system down. It seemed the Fed’s only option was to cut rates, restore the health of the US banking system, and watch Bitcoin quickly march towards $70,000. Nope, nope, nope. Instead, the Fed raised rates another three times from March to the present. When your predictions are consistently wrong, it is time to reexamine what you believe to be true, and explore a few “what if I continue to be wrong” scenarios. In this case, that means starting to work through whether my portfolio can survive a Fed that keeps hiking rates. I gave a keynote at the Korea Blockchain Week conference last week in which I examined whether Bitcoin could still rise if the Fed and the rest of their central bank sycophants continue to raise rates. For those of you who were not in the audience, or thought I went too quickly through some concepts, here is a short essay – by my standards, at least – exploring this question. What If? What if there is no US recession? What if inflation doesn’t fall? What if there is no US financial system meltdown? If these all hold true, then rather than a rate cut, we can expect more rate hikes by the Fed and other major central banks. Real Yields Past and Present What is the real yield? Real yield is a fairly amorphous concept, and depending on who you ask, you might get a handful of different definitions. My (slightly oversimplified) definition is that if I lend money to the government, I should at least get a return that matches the nominal GDP growth rate. If I get less than that, the government is earning a profit at my expense. Obviously, governments would love to fund themselves at a lower rate than the economic value their debt generates. Using financial repression to ensure that nominal GDP growth is higher than bond yields has been the policy of all the most successful export-led Asian economies since the end of WW2. China, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, etc. have all used this playbook to export their way out of the destruction their countries experienced during and in the wake of WW2. To implement this type of financial repression, countries must use their banking systems. Banks are instructed to offer depositors low rates. Depositors then have no choice but to earn a negative real yield on their savings, as the government puts restrictions in place that prevent them from moving money out of the system. The banks are then told to lend to state-backed or large, politically connected heavy industrial firms at low rates. Deposit Rate < Corporate Loan Rate < Nominal GDP Growth Rate The result is that these industrial companies – which require a large amount of CAPEX – get cheap funding to quickly build out a modern manufacturing base. Governments then use these manufacturing bases to accrue sovereign wealth, which is recycled into US Treasuries and other dollar-based financial assets. Supposedly, these funds can be tapped into when the economy falters. The plebes all get good-paying, blue-collar manufacturing jobs for life. When compared to their prior lives as agricultural peasants, during which they endured a standard of living only slightly better than that of slaves, working nine to five with full benefits for a large corporation is a major improvement. This is a major reason why I dismiss folks like Peter Zeihan who believe the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) rule is about to come to an abrupt end. Due to the horrendous loss of life and destruction of property experienced after 1911 (fall of the Chinese Qing dynasty) and 1949 (when Mao’s communists bested Chiang Kai-Sek’s nationalists), Chinese comrades put a huge premium on stability. The CCP has delivered that since Mao’s death, and thus, they ain’t going nowhere – even if the economy deflates substantially. Real Yield = Government Bond Yield - Nominal GDP Growth This financial repression playbook only works if money cannot leave the banking system. This is why China, Taiwan, South Korea, etc. all have closed capital accounts. Or in the case of Japan, the government makes it nearly impossible for foreign financial firms to advertise and/or accept Japanese savers – and as a result, the average Mrs. Wantanabe is stuck leaving her money with a Japanese bank earning a negative real yield. In our current digital age, however, this strategy becomes harder to execute – particularly given the rise of alternate, decentralized financial systems like Bitcoin. When real yields turn negative for sustained periods of time, depositors can now leave (or at least, they think they can) before the gates are shut. Let’s look at real yields using this construct in the US, starting from 2022 up until the present. US 2-Year Treasury Yield minus US Nominal GDP Growth I used the 2-year US Treasury yield to represent government bond rates as this is the most popular and liquid instrument that tracks short-term rates. As you can see, real rates were really negative when the Fed started hiking in March 2022. The Fed raised rates at the fastest pace ever, and yet real rates are now only barely positive. If you replace the 2-year yield with the 10-year or 30-year yield, real rates are still negative. That’s why it is foolish to own the long-end with your own money. Institutions still do, because financial responsibility goes out the window when you are a fiduciary playing with others money and earning a phat management fee for being of average intellect and ability. As I considered the chart above, my next question was, “what can we expect real yields to look like moving forward?” The Atlanta Fed publishes a “ ” cast, which is a real-time guestimate of what the current quarter’s real GDP growth will be. As of September 8th, the Fed is predicting that third quarter growth will be a mind-bogglingly massive +5.7% – I bet China wishes they could grow like this! To arrive at a nominal growth rate, I added another 3.7%, which I calculated by looking at the average differential between nominal and real growth over the last six quarters. GDPNow Nowcast Real GDP of 5.7% + Real GDP Deflator of 3.7% = Nominal 3Q GDP Growth of 9.4% Forecasted Third Quarter Real Yield = 2-year US Treasury Yield 5% - Nominal 3Q GDP Growth of 9.4% = -4.4% Real Yield What the actual fuck!!!! Conventional economics says as the Fed raised rates, growth in a very credit sensitive economy would falter. Common sense tells us that in these conditions, nominal GDP growth should be falling and real rates rising. But that is not happening. Let’s examine why. No Money, No Honey Governments earn money through taxation, and then spend it on stuff. If spending is greater than tax receipts, then they issue debt to fund the deficit. America’s chief export is finance. As such, the government earns a large slug of revenue from capital gains taxes levied on rich people making money in the stock and bond markets. The COVID bull market of 2020- 2021 produced a big-ass tax haul from rich people. However, from the beginning of 2022 onwards, the Fed began raising interest rates. Higher rates visited a swift death upon financial asset markets. It is the chief reason why do-good scammers such as Sam Bankman-Fried and crypto Zhupercycle muppets like Su Zhu and Kyle Davies bit the dust. Below is a chart showing the return indexed at 100 of the S&P 500 (yellow), the Nasdaq 100 (white), the Russell 2000 (green), and the Bloomberg US Aggregate Total Return Bond Index (magenta) from 2022 to the present. As you can see, since the beginning of 2022, nobody made money. And as a result, capital gains tax receipts have plummeted. The estimates that in 2021, realised capital gains represented ~9% of GDP. Taxes on that booty withered quickly as the Fed embarked on its mission to fight inflation. US Congressional Budget Office “Processing data from the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) indicate that realized gains increased sharply in 2021, to 8.7 percent of GDP in CBO’s estimate—the highest level in more than 40 years.” Additionally, remember that the number one job of any politician is to get re-elected. Old boomers were promised free-ish healthcare, and the US general public loves consuming energy at a per-capita rate well above the rest of the world. Given these two facts, it’s safe to assume that politicians who campaign on reducing healthcare spending and/or the defense budget (the US loves bombs over Baghdad as long as the oil flows back home) will not be re-elected. Instead, the government will continue to spend more and more on both sectors as the population ages and the world becomes more multipolar. If spending is increasing but revenue is declining, deficits must rise. Since GDP is just a snapshot of economic activity, when the government spends money, it by definition increases GDP – regardless of whether the spending is actually productive or not. US Government Deficit as a Percentage of Nominal GDP The last reading is a mind boggling 8% of nominal GDP. Rising deficits must be funded by selling more and more bonds. By the end of the year, the US Treasury must sell an additional worth of bonds to repay old debt and cover the budget deficit. And in addition to having to issue these bonds, the Fed is raising rates – which in turn increases the amount of interest the US Treasury must pay. $1.85 trillion As of the end of the second quarter, the US Treasury is spending an annualized $1 trillion on interest payments to debt holders. Given that most wealth is concentrated in the top 10% of households (meaning that those households are the ones holding the bulk of the government’s debt), the US Treasury is essentially handing out stimmies to rich folks in the form of interest payments. What do patricians buy when they’ve already accrued enough money to cover the most important shorts in life (housing and food)? They spend money on services. Roughly 77% of the US economy is services related. To sum up: when rates rise, the government increases interest payments to the rich, the rich spend more on services, and GDP pumps even more. Circle Jerk Let’s put all of this together and do a quick step-by-step walkthrough of how the Fed raising rates increases nominal GDP, which in turn begets more Fed monetary tightening. The Fed must raise rates to fight inflation. I never get tired of this photo. Powell looks like a beta simp cuck as Biden points his pen at him and instructs the Fed to deal with inflation. Financial asset prices fall, and then so does tax revenue. Apart from a few standout tech stocks like Nvidia, most companies who make real stuff are struggling due to the rising cost and declining availability of credit, which has in turn driven down their stock prices. When it comes to the largest asset market in the world, bonds are poised to notch their 2nd straight year of losses on a total return basis. With the broader stock and bond market still below 2021 highs, the government’s capital gains tax revenues are down sharply. While tax revenues are falling, government spending increases, resulting in higher deficits. The more the government spends above its means, the greater its deficit. If more spending = higher deficit, and more spending also = higher nominal GDP growth, then ipso facto, higher deficit = higher nominal GDP growth. The US Treasury must issue more bonds at a higher rate of interest due to higher Fed policy rates. Rich savers haven’t had this much interest income in over 20 years. Rich savers consume more services with their interest income, which further boosts nominal GDP growth. Roughly 77% of US GDP is made up of services. Inflation becomes sticky because nominal GDP growth > government bond yields. Higher bond yields are not putting a damper on US government spending because the US government is net-net profiting from this situation. When the government funds itself at a rate lower than the growth generated by its debt, debt-to-GDP actually declines. This is the exact same playbook the US government used after WW2 in order to pay down its massive domestic war debts. The Fed must raise rates to fight inflation. As GDP growth continues to outpace bond yields, inflation will rise from its current “depressed” levels and be sticky in the high single digits. As long as inflation is much higher than the Fed’s 2% target, they must continue to raise rates. Chink In the Armor Sir Powell can continue raising rates so long as the market is willing to accept a rate of interest lower than the nominal GDP growth. But Lord Satoshi gave the world an alternative financial system, complete with a fixed supply currency and a decentralised, near instantaneous payments network called Bitcoin. The banks have competition that they’ve never faced before. (Of course, you could previously pull your money out of the bank and buy gold, but it’s impractical to use heavy gold in everyday life.) If/when the market demands to receive at least a 9.4% yield (equal to the forecasted nominal GDP growth rate) on their US Treasuries, then the jig will be up. The Fed must then either forbid banks from allowing transfers to digital fintechs offering physical cryptocurrencies, or it must restart quantitative easing (aka money printing) and buy bonds to ensure their yield is less than nominal GDP growth. I will continue to remind you that purchasing an ETF does not get your money outside of the TradFi system. Escape only comes through buying Bitcoin and withdrawing it to your own wallet, where you hold the private keys. It is logical to assume the market will tire of handing profit to the government when there are financial escape hatches like Bitcoin readily available. But for the rest of this analysis, I will assume the Fed will be able to continue down this path of raising rates without too much money fleeing the US banking system. Climate Change To read the final section of this essay with my price predictions please move over to my . Substack

Are We There Yet?

¿Ya llegamos?

Sommes-nous déjà là?

क्या हम अब भी वहां हैं?

まだそこにいるのか？

Já estamos lá?

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The Son of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Chapter XXVII The Son of Tarzan: XXVII Korak screamed commands to his huge protector, in an effort to halt him; but all to no avail. Meriem raced toward the bordering trees with all the speed that lay in her swift, little feet; but Tantor, for all his huge bulk, drove down upon her with the rapidity of an express train. Korak lay where he could see the whole frightful tragedy. The cold sweat broke out upon his body. His heart seemed to have stopped its beating. Meriem might reach the trees before Tantor overtook her, but even her agility would not carry her beyond the reach of that relentless trunk—she would be dragged down and tossed. Korak could picture the whole frightful scene. Then Tantor would follow her up, goring the frail, little body with his relentless tusks, or trampling it into an unrecognizable mass beneath his ponderous feet. He was almost upon her now. Korak wanted to close his eyes, but could not. His throat was dry and parched. Never in all his savage existence had he suffered such blighting terror—never before had he known what terror meant. A dozen more strides and the brute would seize her. What was that? Korak’s eyes started from their sockets. A strange figure had leaped from the tree the shade of which Meriem already had reached—leaped beyond the girl straight into the path of the charging elephant. It was a naked white giant. Across his shoulder a coil of rope was looped. In the band of his gee string was a hunting knife. Otherwise he was unarmed. With naked hands he faced the maddening Tantor. A sharp command broke from the stranger’s lips—the great beast halted in his tracks—and Meriem swung herself upward into the tree to safety. Korak breathed a sigh of relief not unmixed with wonder. He fastened his eyes upon the face of Meriem’s deliverer and as recognition slowly filtered into his understanding they went wide in incredulity and surprise. Tantor, still rumbling angrily, stood swaying to and fro close before the giant white man. Then the latter stepped straight beneath the upraised trunk and spoke a low word of command. The great beast ceased his muttering. The savage light died from his eyes, and as the stranger stepped forward toward Korak, Tantor trailed docilely at his heels. Meriem was watching, too, and wondering. Suddenly the man turned toward her as though recollecting her presence after a moment of forgetfulness. “Come! Meriem,” he called, and then she recognized him with a startled: “Bwana!” Quickly the girl dropped from the tree and ran to his side. Tantor cocked a questioning eye at the white giant, but receiving a warning word let Meriem approach. Together the two walked to where Korak lay, his eyes wide with wonder and filled with a pathetic appeal for forgiveness, and, mayhap, a glad thankfulness for the miracle that had brought these two of all others to his side. “Jack!” cried the white giant, kneeling at the ape-man’s side. “Father!” came chokingly from The Killer’s lips. “Thank God that it was you. No one else in all the jungle could have stopped Tantor.” Quickly the man cut the bonds that held Korak, and as the youth leaped to his feet and threw his arms about his father, the older man turned toward Meriem. “I thought,” he said, sternly, “that I told you to return to the farm.” Korak was looking at them wonderingly. In his heart was a great yearning to take the girl in his arms; but in time he remembered the other—the dapper young English gentleman—and that he was but a savage, uncouth ape-man. Meriem looked up pleadingly into Bwana’s eyes. “You told me,” she said, in a very small voice, “that my place was beside the man I loved,” and she turned her eyes toward Korak all filled with the wonderful light that no other man had yet seen in them, and that none other ever would. The Killer started toward her with outstretched arms; but suddenly he fell upon one knee before her, instead, and lifting her hand to his lips kissed it more reverently than he could have kissed the hand of his country’s queen. A rumble from Tantor brought the three, all jungle bred, to instant alertness. Tantor was looking toward the trees behind them, and as their eyes followed his gaze the head and shoulders of a great ape appeared amidst the foliage. For a moment the creature eyed them, and then from its throat rose a loud scream of recognition and of joy, and a moment later the beast had leaped to the ground, followed by a score of bulls like himself, and was waddling toward them, shouting in the primordial tongue of the anthropoid: “Tarzan has returned! Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle!” It was Akut, and instantly he commenced leaping and bounding about the trio, uttering hideous shrieks and mouthings that to any other human beings might have indicated the most ferocious rage; but these three knew that the king of the apes was doing homage to a king greater than himself. In his wake leaped his shaggy bulls, vying with one another as to which could spring the highest and which utter the most uncanny sounds. Korak laid his hand affectionately upon his father’s shoulder. “There is but one Tarzan,” he said. “There can never be another.” Two days later the three dropped from the trees on the edge of the plain across which they could see the smoke rising from the bungalow and the cook house chimneys. Tarzan of the Apes had regained his civilized clothing from the tree where he had hidden it, and as Korak refused to enter the presence of his mother in the savage half-raiment that he had worn so long and as Meriem would not leave him, for fear, as she explained, that he would change his mind and run off into the jungle again, the father went on ahead to the bungalow for horses and clothes. My Dear met him at the gate, her eyes filled with questioning and sorrow, for she saw that Meriem was not with him. “Where is she?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Muviri told me that she disobeyed your instructions and ran off into the jungle after you had left them. Oh, John, I cannot bear to lose her, too!” And Lady Greystoke broke down and wept, as she pillowed her head upon the broad breast where so often before she had found comfort in the great tragedies of her life. Lord Greystoke raised her head and looked down into her eyes, his own smiling and filled with the light of happiness. “What is it, John?” she cried. “You have good news—do not keep me waiting for it.” “I want to be quite sure that you can stand hearing the best news that ever came to either of us,” he said. “Joy never kills,” she cried. “You have found—her?” She could not bring herself to hope for the impossible. “Yes, Jane,” he said, and his voice was husky with emotion; “I have found her, and—HIM!” “Where is he? Where are they?” she demanded. “Out there at the edge of the jungle. He wouldn’t come to you in his savage leopard skin and his nakedness—he sent me to fetch him civilized clothing.” She clapped her hands in ecstasy, and turned to run toward the bungalow. “Wait!” she cried over her shoulder. “I have all his little suits—I have saved them all. I will bring one to you.” Tarzan laughed and called to her to stop. “The only clothing on the place that will fit him,” he said, “is mine—if it isn’t too small for him—your little boy has grown, Jane.” She laughed, too; she felt like laughing at everything, or at nothing. The world was all love and happiness and joy once more—the world that had been shrouded in the gloom of her great sorrow for so many years. So great was her joy that for the moment she forgot the sad message that awaited Meriem. She called to Tarzan after he had ridden away to prepare her for it, but he did not hear and rode on without knowing himself what the event was to which his wife referred. And so, an hour later, Korak, The Killer, rode home to his mother—the mother whose image had never faded in his boyish heart—and found in her arms and her eyes the love and forgiveness that he plead for. And then the mother turned toward Meriem, an expression of pitying sorrow erasing the happiness from her eyes. “My little girl,” she said, “in the midst of our happiness a great sorrow awaits you—Mr. Baynes did not survive his wound.” The expression of sorrow in Meriem’s eyes expressed only what she sincerely felt; but it was not the sorrow of a woman bereft of her best beloved. “I am sorry,” she said, quite simply. “He would have done me a great wrong; but he amply atoned before he died. Once I thought that I loved him. At first it was only fascination for a type that was new to me—then it was respect for a brave man who had the moral courage to admit a sin and the physical courage to face death to right the wrong he had committed. But it was not love. I did not know what love was until I knew that Korak lived,” and she turned toward The Killer with a smile. Lady Greystoke looked quickly up into the eyes of her son—the son who one day would be Lord Greystoke. No thought of the difference in the stations of the girl and her boy entered her mind. To her Meriem was fit for a king. She only wanted to know that Jack loved the little Arab waif. The look in his eyes answered the question in her heart, and she threw her arms about them both and kissed them each a dozen times. “Now,” she cried, “I shall really have a daughter!” It was several weary marches to the nearest mission; but they only waited at the farm a few days for rest and preparation for the great event before setting out upon the journey, and after the marriage ceremony had been performed they kept on to the coast to take passage for England. Those days were the most wonderful of Meriem’s life. She had not dreamed even vaguely of the marvels that civilization held in store for her. The great ocean and the commodious steamship filled her with awe. The noise, and bustle and confusion of the English railway station frightened her. “If there was a good-sized tree at hand,” she confided to Korak, “I know that I should run to the very top of it in terror of my life.” “And make faces and throw twigs at the engine?” he laughed back. “Poor old Numa,” sighed the girl. “What will he do without us?” “Oh, there are others to tease him, my little Mangani,” assured Korak. The Greystoke town house quite took Meriem’s breath away; but when strangers were about none might guess that she had not been to the manner born. They had been home but a week when Lord Greystoke received a message from his friend of many years, D’Arnot. It was in the form of a letter of introduction brought by one General Armand Jacot. Lord Greystoke recalled the name, as who familiar with modern French history would not, for Jacot was in reality the Prince de Cadrenet—that intense republican who refused to use, even by courtesy, a title that had belonged to his family for four hundred years. “There is no place for princes in a republic,” he was wont to say. Lord Greystoke received the hawk-nosed, gray mustached soldier in his library, and after a dozen words the two men had formed a mutual esteem that was to endure through life. “I have come to you,” explained General Jacot, “because our dear Admiral tells me that there is no one in all the world who is more intimately acquainted with Central Africa than you. “Let me tell you my story from the beginning. Many years ago my little daughter was stolen, presumably by Arabs, while I was serving with the Foreign Legion in Algeria. We did all that love and money and even government resources could do to discover her; but all to no avail. Her picture was published in the leading papers of every large city in the world, yet never did we find a man or woman who ever had seen her since the day she mysteriously disappeared. “A week since there came to me in Paris a swarthy Arab, who called himself Abdul Kamak. He said that he had found my daughter and could lead me to her. I took him at once to Admiral d’Arnot, whom I knew had traveled some in Central Africa. The man’s story led the Admiral to believe that the place where the white girl the Arab supposed to be my daughter was held in captivity was not far from your African estates, and he advised that I come at once and call upon you—that you would know if such a girl were in your neighborhood.” “What proof did the Arab bring that she was your daughter?” asked Lord Greystoke. “None,” replied the other. “That is why we thought best to consult you before organizing an expedition. The fellow had only an old photograph of her on the back of which was pasted a newspaper cutting describing her and offering a reward. We feared that having found this somewhere it had aroused his cupidity and led him to believe that in some way he could obtain the reward, possibly by foisting upon us a white girl on the chance that so many years had elapsed that we would not be able to recognize an imposter as such.” “Have you the photograph with you?” asked Lord Greystoke. The General drew an envelope from his pocket, took a yellowed photograph from it and handed it to the Englishman. Tears dimmed the old warrior’s eyes as they fell again upon the pictured features of his lost daughter. Lord Greystoke examined the photograph for a moment. A queer expression entered his eyes. He touched a bell at his elbow, and an instant later a footman entered. “Ask my son’s wife if she will be so good as to come to the library,” he directed. The two men sat in silence. General Jacot was too well bred to show in any way the chagrin and disappointment he felt in the summary manner in which Lord Greystoke had dismissed the subject of his call. As soon as the young lady had come and he had been presented he would make his departure. A moment later Meriem entered. Lord Greystoke and General Jacot rose and faced her. The Englishman spoke no word of introduction—he wanted to mark the effect of the first sight of the girl’s face on the Frenchman, for he had a theory—a heaven-born theory that had leaped into his mind the moment his eyes had rested on the baby face of Jeanne Jacot. General Jacot took one look at Meriem, then he turned toward Lord Greystoke. “How long have you known it?” he asked, a trifle accusingly. “Since you showed me that photograph a moment ago,” replied the Englishman. “It is she,” said Jacot, shaking with suppressed emotion; “but she does not recognize me—of course she could not.” Then he turned to Meriem. “My child,” he said, “I am your—” But she interrupted him with a quick, glad cry, as she ran toward him with outstretched arms. “I know you! I know you!” she cried. “Oh, now I remember,” and the old man folded her in his arms. Jack Clayton and his mother were summoned, and when the story had been told them they were only glad that little Meriem had found a father and a mother. “And really you didn’t marry an Arab waif after all,” said Meriem. “Isn’t it fine!” “You are fine,” replied The Killer. “I married my little Meriem, and I don’t care, for my part, whether she is an Arab, or just a little Tarmangani.” “She is neither, my son,” said General Armand Jacot. “She is a princess in her own right.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Edgar Rice Burroughs (2022). The Son of Tarzan. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/90/pg90-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

Korak screamed commands to his huge protector

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