reunion

The Moon Maid by Edgar Rice Burroughs, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . REUNION REUNION Through the conversation that I overheard between Raban and his minions I learned that Bethelda was imprisoned in the westerly ruin, but as Raban did not go thither during the afternoon I waited in the hope that fortune would favor me with a better opportunity after dark to attempt her liberation with less likelihood of interruption or discovery than would have been possible during the day, when men and women were constantly passing in and out of the easterly tent. There was the chance, too, that Okonnor might return with help and I did not want to do anything while that hope remained that might jeopardize Bethelda’s chances for escape. Night fell and yet there was no sign of Okonnor. Sounds of coarse laughter came from the main ruin and I could imagine that Raban and his followers were at meat, washing down their food with the fiery liquor of the Kalkars. There was no one in sight and so I determined to come out of my concealment and investigate the structure in which I believed Bethelda imprisoned. If I could release her, well and good; if not I could but wait for Okonnor. As I was about to descend from the tree there came down with the wind from out of the canyon to the south a familiar sound—the nicker of a red stallion. It was music to my ears. I must answer it even though I chanced arousing the suspicion of the Kalkars. Just once my answering whistle rose sharp and clear above the noises of the night. I do not think the Kalkars heard it—they were making too much noise of their own within doors—but the eager whinny that came thinly down the night wind told me that two fine, slim ears had caught the familiar summons. Instead of going at once to the westerly ruin I made my way down the hill to meet Red Lightning, for I knew that he might mean, in the end, success or failure for me—freedom or death for Bethelda. Already, when I reached the foot of the declivity, I faintly heard the pounding of his hoofs and, steadily increasing in volume the loved sound rolled swiftly out of the darkness toward me. The hoof beats of running horses, the rolling of the war drums! What sweeter music in all the world? He saw me, of course, before I saw him, but he stopped in a cloud of dust a few yards from me and sniffed the air. I whispered his name and called him to me. Mincingly he came, stopping often, stretching his long neck forward, poised always, ready for instant flight. A horse depends much upon his eyes and ears and nostrils, but he is never so fully satisfied as when his soft, inquisitive muzzle has nosed an object of suspicion. He snorted now, and then he touched my cheek with his velvet lip and gave a great sigh and rubbed his head against me, satisfied. I hid him beneath the trees at the foot of the hill and bade him wait there in silence. From the saddle I took the bow and some arrows and following the route that Tav had taken to the top of the hill I avoided the hedge of roses and came presently before the south archway of the ruin. Beyond was a small central court with windows and doors opening upon it. Light from flares burning in some of the rooms partially illuminated the court, but most of it was in shadow. I passed beneath the arch and to the far end of the enclosure, where, at my right, I saw a window and a door opening into two rooms in which a number of Kalkars were eating and drinking at two long tables. I could not see them all. If Raban was there he was not within range of my vision. It is always well to reconnoiter thoroughly before carrying out any plan of action and with this idea in mind I left the court by the way I had entered and made my way to the east end of the structure, intending to pass entirely around it and along the north side of the westerly ruin, where I hoped to find Bethelda and devise means for her rescue. At the southeast corner of the ruin are three gigantic cypress trees, growing so closely together as to almost resemble a single huge tree, and as I paused an instant behind them to see what lay before me, I saw a single Kalkar warrior come from the building and walk out into the rank grass that grew knee high on a level space before the structure. I fitted an arrow to my bow. The fellow had that which I craved—a sword. Could I drop him noiselessly? If he would turn I was sure of it, and turn he did as though impelled to it by my insistent wish. His back was toward me. I drew the shaft far back. The cord twanged as I released it, but there was no other sound, except the muffled thud as the arrow entered its victim’s spine at the base of the brain. Mute, he died. No other was around. I ran forward and removed his sword belt, to which were attached both sword and knife. As I arose and buckled the weapons about me, I glanced into the lighted room from which he had just come. It was the same that I had seen from the court upon the other side and directly adjoining it was the other room that I had seen. Now I could see all of them that I had not seen before. Raban was not there. Where was he? A cold terror ran suddenly through me. Could it be that in the brief interval that had elapsed while I went down to meet Red Lightning he had left the feast and gone to the westerly ruin? I ran swiftly across the front of the house and along the north side toward the other structure. I stopped before it and listened. I heard the sound of voices! From whence came they? This was a peculiar structure, built upon a downward sloping hill, with one floor on a level with the hilltop, another above that level and a third below and behind the others. Where the various entrances were and how to find the right one I did not know. From my hiding place in the tree I had seen that the front chamber at the hill top level was a single apartment with a cavernous entrance that stretched the full width of the ruin, while upon the south side and to the rear of this apartment were two doors, but where they led I could not guess. It seemed best, however, to try these first and so I ran immediately to them and here the sounds of voices came more distinctly to me and now I recognized the roaring, bull-tones of Raban. I tried the nearer door. It swung open and before me a flight of stairs descended and at the same time the voices came more loudly to my ears—I had opened the right door. A dim light flickered below as though coming from a chamber near the foot of the stairs. These were but instantaneous impressions to which I gave no conscious heed at the time, for almost as they flashed upon me I was at the foot of the stairs, looking into a large, high-ceiled chamber in which burned a single flare that but diffused the gloom sufficiently for me to see the figure of Raban towering above that of Bethelda, whom he was dragging toward the doorway by her hair. “An Or-tis!” he was bellowing. “An Or-tis! Who would have thought that Raban would ever take the daughter of a Jemadar to be his woman? Ah, you do not like the idea, eh? You might do worse, if you had a choice, but you have none, for who is there to say ‘no’ to Raban the Giant?” “The Red Hawk!” I said, stepping into the chamber. The fellow wheeled, and in the flickering light of the dim flare I saw his red face go purple and from purple to white, or rather a blotchy semblance of dirty yellow. Blood of my fathers! How he towered above me, a perfect mountain of flesh! I am six feet in height and Raban must have been half again as tall, a good nine feet; but I swear he appeared all of twenty, and broad! For a moment he stood in silence glaring at me as though overcome by surprise and then he thrust Bethelda aside and drawing his sword advanced upon me, bellowing and roaring as was his wont for the purpose, I presume, of terrifying me, and also, I could not help but think, to attract the attention and the aid of his fellows. I came to meet him then and he appeared a mountain, so high he loomed; but with all his size I did not feel the concern that I have when meeting men of my own stature whose honor and courage merited my respect, and it is well that I had this attitude in mind to fortify me in the impending duel, for, by The Flag! I needed whatever of encouragement I might find in it. The fellow’s height and weight were sufficient to overcome a mighty warrior had Raban been entirely wanting in skill, which he by no means was. He wielded his great sword with a master hand and because of the very cowardice which I attributed to him he fought with a frenzy wrought by fear, as a cornered beast fights. I needed all my skill and I doubt that that alone would have availed me had it not been upborne and multiplied by love and the necessity for protecting the object of my love. Ever was the presence of Bethelda, the Or-tis, a spur and an inspiration. What blows I struck I struck for her, what I parried, it was as though I parried from her soft skin. As we closed he swung mightily at me a cut that would have severed me in twain, but I parried and stooped beneath it at once, and found his great legs unguarded before me and ran my sword through a thigh. With a howl of pain, Raban leaped back, but I followed him with a jab of my point that caught him just beneath the bottom of his iron vest and punctured his belly. At that he gave forth a horrible shriek, and though sorely wounded began to wield his blade with a skill I had not dreamed lay in him. It was with the utmost difficulty that I turned his heavy sword, and I saved myself as many times by the quickness of my feet as by the facility of my blade. And much do I owe, too, to the cleverness of Bethelda, who, shortly after we crossed swords, had run to the great fireplace and seized the flare from where it had reposed upon the stone shelf above, and ever after had kept just behind my shoulder with it, so that whatever advantage of light there might be lay with me. Her position was a dangerous one and I begged her to put herself at a safe distance, but she would not, and no more would she take advantage of this opportunity to escape. Momentarily I had expected to see Raban’s men rushing into the chamber, for I could not understand that his yells had not reached every ear within a mile or more, and so I fought the more desperately to be rid of him and on our way before they came. Raban, now panting for breath, had none left with which to yell and I could see that from exertion, terror, and loss of blood he was weakening. It was now that I heard the loud voices of men without and the tramp of running feet. They were coming! I redoubled my efforts and Raban his—I to kill, he to escape death until succor came. From a score of wounds was he bleeding and I was sure that that in his abdomen alone must prove fatal; but still he clung to life tenaciously, and fought with a froth of blood upon his lips from a punctured throat. He stumbled and went to one knee and as he staggered to rise I thought that I had him, when we heard the hurrying feet of men descending the stairs. Instantly Bethelda hurled the flare to the floor, leaving us in utter darkness. “Come!” she whispered, laying a hand upon my arm. “There will be too many now—we must escape as they enter or we are both indeed lost.” The warriors were cursing at the doorway now and calling for lights. “Who hides within?” shouted one. “Stand forth, a prisoner! We are a hundred blades.” Bethelda and I edged nearer the doorway, hoping to pass out among them before a light was made. From the center of the room came a deep groan from where I had left Raban, followed by a scuffling noise upon the floor and a strange gurgling. I came to the doorway, leading Bethelda by the hand. I found it choked with men. “Aside!” I said. “I will fetch a light.” A sword point was shoved against my belly. “Back!” warned a voice behind the point. “We will have a look at you before you pass—another is bringing a light.” I stepped back and crossed my sword with his. Perhaps I could hew my way to freedom with Bethelda in the confusion of the darkness. It seemed our only hope, for to be caught by Raban’s minions now, after the hurts I had inflicted upon him, would mean sure death for me and worse for Bethelda. By the feel of our steel we fenced in the dark, but I could not reach him, nor he me, though I felt that he was a master swordsman. I thought that I was gaining an advantage when I saw the flicker of a light coming from the doorway at the head of the stairs. Someone was coming with a flare. I redoubled my efforts, but to no avail. And then the light came and as it fell upon the warriors in the doorway I stepped back, astounded, and dropped my point. The light that revealed them illumined my own face, and at sight of it my antagonist voiced a cry of joy. “Red Hawk!” he cried and seized me by the shoulder. It was The Vulture, my brother, and with him were The Rattlesnake and a hundred warriors of our own beloved clans. Other lights were brought and I saw Okonnor and a host of strange warriors in Kalkar trappings pushing down the stairway with my own, nor did they raise sword against one another. Okonnor pointed toward the center of the chamber, and we looked and there lay Raban, the giant, dead. “The Red Hawk, Julian 20th,” he said, turning to those crowding into the chamber behind him, “Great Chief of the Tribe of Julians—our chief!” “And Jemadar of all America!” cried another voice and the warriors, crowding into the room, raised their swords and their hoarse voices in acclamation. And he who had named me thus pushed past them and faced me and I saw that he was no other than the true Or-tis with whom I had been imprisoned in The Capital and with whom I had escaped. He saw Bethelda and rushed forward and took her in his arms, and for a moment I was jealous, forgetting that he was her brother. “And how has all this happened,” I asked, “that Or-tis and Julian come here together in peace?” “Listen,” said my brother, “before you pass judgment upon us. Long has run the feud between Julian and Or-tis for the crime of a man dead now hundreds of years. Few enough are the Americans of pure blood that they should be separated by hate when they would come together in friendship. Came the Or-tis to us after escaping the Kalkars and told of your escape and of the wish of his father that peace be made between us, and he offered to lead us against the Kalkars by ways that we did not know and The Wolf took council with me and there was also The Rock, The Rattlesnake and The Coyote, with every other chief who was at the front, and in your absence I dissolved the feud that has lain between us and the chiefs applauded my decision. Then, guided by the Or-tis, we entered The Capital and drove the Kalkars before us. Great are their numbers, but they have not The Flag with them and they must fall. “Then,” he continued, “came word, brought by the little Nipons of the hills, that you were in the mountains near the tent of Raban the Giant and we came to find you, and on the way we met Okonnor with many warriors and glad were they of the peace that had been made, and we joined with them who were also riding against Raban to rescue the sister of the Or-tis. And we are here awaiting the word of The Great Chief. If it is for peace between the Julian and the Or-tis, we are glad; if it is for war our swords are ready.” “It is for peace, ever,” I replied and the Or-tis came and knelt at my feet and took my hand in his. “Before my people,” he said, very simply, “I swear allegiance to Julian 20th, Jemadar of America.” 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 Moon Maid. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/69338/pg69338-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.

Through the conversation that I overheard between Raban and his minions

Dick Sands the Boy Captain by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . A HAPPY REUNION here A HAPPY REUNION. Two days after Dick's marvellous deliverance the party had the good fortune to fall in with a caravan of honest Portuguese ivory-traders on their way to Emboma, at the mouth of the Congo. They rendered the fugitives every assistance, and thus enabled them to reach the coast without further discomfort. This meeting with the caravan was a most fortunate occurrence, as any project of launching a raft upon the Zaire would have been quite impracticable, the river between the Ntemo and Yellala Falls being a continuous series of cataracts. Stanley counted as many as sixty-two, and it was hereabouts that that brave traveller sustained the last of thirty-one conflicts with the natives, escaping almost by a miracle from the Mbelo cataract. Before the middle of August the party arrived at Emboma, where they were hospitably received by M. Motta Viega and Mr. Harrison. A steamer was just on the point of starting for the Isthmus of Panama; in this they took their passage, and in due time set foot once more upon American soil. Forthwith a message was despatched to Mr. Weldon, apprising him of the return of the wife and child over whose loss he had mourned so long On the 25th the railroad deposited the travellers at San Francisco, the only thing to mar their happiness being the recollection that Tom and his partners were not with them to share their joy. Mr. Weldon had every reason to congratulate himself that Negoro had failed to reach him. No doubt he would have been ready to sacrifice the bulk of his fortune, and without a moment's hesitation would have set out for the coast of Africa, but who could question that he would there have been exposed to the vilest treachery? He felt that to Dick Sands and to Hercules he owed a debt of gratitude that it would be impossible to repay; Dick assumed more than ever the place of an adopted son, whilst the brave negro was regarded as a true and faithful friend. Cousin Benedict, it must be owned, failed to share for long the general joy. After giving Mr. Weldon a hasty shake of the hand, he hurried off to his private room, and resumed his studies almost as if they had never been interrupted. He set himself vigorously to work with the design of producing an elaborate treatise upon the "Hexapodes Benedictus" hitherto unknown to entomological research. Here in his private chamber spectacles and magnifying-glass were ready for his use, and he was now able for the first time with the aid of proper appliances to examine the unique production of Central Africa. A shriek of horror and disappointment escaped his lips. The Hexapodes Benedictus was not a hexapod at all. It was a common spider. Hercules, in catching it, had unfortunately broken off its two front legs, and Benedict, almost blind as he was, had failed to detect the accident. His chagrin was most pitiable, the wonderful discovery that was to have exalted his name high in the annals of science belonged simply to the common order of the arachnidÃ¦ The blow to his aspirations was very heavy; it brought on a fit of illness from which it took him some time to recover. For the next three years Dick was entrusted with the education of little Jack during the intervals he could spare from the prosecution of his own studies, into which he threw himself with an energy quickened by a kind of remorse. "If only I had known what a seaman ought to know when I was left to myself on board the 'Pilgrim,' " he would continually say, "what misery and suffering we might have been spared!" So diligently did he apply himself to the technical branches of his profession that at the age of eighteen he received a special certificate of honour, and was at once raised to the rank of a captain in Mr. Weldon's firm. Thus by his industry and good conduct did the poor foundling of Sandy Hook rise to a post of distinction. In spite of his youth, he commanded universal respect; his native modesty and straightforwardness never failed him, and for his own part, he seemed to be unconscious of those fine traits in his character which had impelled him to deeds that made him little short of a hero. His leisure moments, however, were often troubled by one source of sadness; he could never forget the four negroes for whose misfortunes he held himself by his own inexperience to be in a way responsible. Mrs. Weldon thoroughly shared his regret, and would have made many sacrifices to discover what had become of them. This anxiety was at length relieved. Owing to the large correspondence of Mr. Weldon in almost every quarter of the world, it was discovered that the whole of them had been sold in one lot, and that they were now in Madagascar. Without listening for a moment to Dick's proposal to apply all his savings to effect their liberation, Mr. Weldon set his own agents to negotiate for their freedom, and on the 15th of November, 1877, Tom, Bat, ActÃ¦on, and Austin awaited their welcome at the merchant's door. It is needless to say how warm were the greetings they received. Out of all the survivors of the "Pilgrim" that had been cast upon the fatal coast of Africa, old Nan alone was wanting to complete the number. Considering what they had all undergone, and the perils to which they had been exposed, it seemed little short of a miracle that she and poor Dingo should be the only victims. High was the festivity that night in the house of the Californian merchant, and the toast, proposed at Mrs. Weldon's request, that was received with the loudest acclamation was "DICK SANDS, THE BOY CAPTAIN!" THE END. 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. Jules Verne (2005). Dick sands, the boy Captain. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3250.html.images 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 , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

A HAPPY REUNION

POIROT’S LITTLE REUNION

The Noonification: An Unexpected Reunion: Confronting Demons of Memory (4/8/2023)

is part of HackerNoon’s Book Blog Post series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here: . Part IV, Chapter III. Crime and Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky [LINK TO TABLE OF LINK] Part IV, Chapter III The fact was that up to the last moment he had never expected such an ending; he had been overbearing to the last degree, never dreaming that two destitute and defenceless women could escape from his control. This conviction was strengthened by his vanity and conceit, a conceit to the point of fatuity. Pyotr Petrovitch, who had made his way up from insignificance, was morbidly given to self-admiration, had the highest opinion of his intelligence and capacities, and sometimes even gloated in solitude over his image in the glass. But what he loved and valued above all was the money he had amassed by his labour, and by all sorts of devices: that money made him the equal of all who had been his superiors. When he had bitterly reminded Dounia that he had decided to take her in spite of evil report, Pyotr Petrovitch had spoken with perfect sincerity and had, indeed, felt genuinely indignant at such “black ingratitude.” And yet, when he made Dounia his offer, he was fully aware of the groundlessness of all the gossip. The story had been everywhere contradicted by Marfa Petrovna, and was by then disbelieved by all the townspeople, who were warm in Dounia’a defence. And he would not have denied that he knew all that at the time. Yet he still thought highly of his own resolution in lifting Dounia to his level and regarded it as something heroic. In speaking of it to Dounia, he had let out the secret feeling he cherished and admired, and he could not understand that others should fail to admire it too. He had called on Raskolnikov with the feelings of a benefactor who is about to reap the fruits of his good deeds and to hear agreeable flattery. And as he went downstairs now, he considered himself most undeservedly injured and unrecognised. Dounia was simply essential to him; to do without her was unthinkable. For many years he had had voluptuous dreams of marriage, but he had gone on waiting and amassing money. He brooded with relish, in profound secret, over the image of a girl—virtuous, poor (she must be poor), very young, very pretty, of good birth and education, very timid, one who had suffered much, and was completely humbled before him, one who would all her life look on him as her saviour, worship him, admire him and only him. How many scenes, how many amorous episodes he had imagined on this seductive and playful theme, when his work was over! And, behold, the dream of so many years was all but realised; the beauty and education of Avdotya Romanovna had impressed him; her helpless position had been a great allurement; in her he had found even more than he dreamed of. Here was a girl of pride, character, virtue, of education and breeding superior to his own (he felt that), and this creature would be slavishly grateful all her life for his heroic condescension, and would humble herself in the dust before him, and he would have absolute, unbounded power over her!... Not long before, he had, too, after long reflection and hesitation, made an important change in his career and was now entering on a wider circle of business. With this change his cherished dreams of rising into a higher class of society seemed likely to be realised.... He was, in fact, determined to try his fortune in Petersburg. He knew that women could do a very great deal. The fascination of a charming, virtuous, highly educated woman might make his way easier, might do wonders in attracting people to him, throwing an aureole round him, and now everything was in ruins! This sudden horrible rupture affected him like a clap of thunder; it was like a hideous joke, an absurdity. He had only been a tiny bit masterful, had not even time to speak out, had simply made a joke, been carried away—and it had ended so seriously. And, of course, too, he did love Dounia in his own way; he already possessed her in his dreams—and all at once! No! The next day, the very next day, it must all be set right, smoothed over, settled. Above all he must crush that conceited milksop who was the cause of it all. With a sick feeling he could not help recalling Razumihin too, but, he soon reassured himself on that score; as though a fellow like that could be put on a level with him! The man he really dreaded in earnest was Svidrigaïlov.... He had, in short, a great deal to attend to.... “No, I, I am more to blame than anyone!” said Dounia, kissing and embracing her mother. “I was tempted by his money, but on my honour, brother, I had no idea he was such a base man. If I had seen through him before, nothing would have tempted me! Don’t blame me, brother!” “God has delivered us! God has delivered us!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna muttered, but half consciously, as though scarcely able to realise what had happened. They were all relieved, and in five minutes they were laughing. Only now and then Dounia turned white and frowned, remembering what had passed. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was surprised to find that she, too, was glad: she had only that morning thought rupture with Luzhin a terrible misfortune. Razumihin was delighted. He did not yet dare to express his joy fully, but he was in a fever of excitement as though a ton-weight had fallen off his heart. Now he had the right to devote his life to them, to serve them.... Anything might happen now! But he felt afraid to think of further possibilities and dared not let his imagination range. But Raskolnikov sat still in the same place, almost sullen and indifferent. Though he had been the most insistent on getting rid of Luzhin, he seemed now the least concerned at what had happened. Dounia could not help thinking that he was still angry with her, and Pulcheria Alexandrovna watched him timidly. “What did Svidrigaïlov say to you?” said Dounia, approaching him. “Yes, yes!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Raskolnikov raised his head. “He wants to make you a present of ten thousand roubles and he desires to see you once in my presence.” “See her! On no account!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “And how dare he offer her money!” Then Raskolnikov repeated (rather dryly) his conversation with Svidrigaïlov, omitting his account of the ghostly visitations of Marfa Petrovna, wishing to avoid all unnecessary talk. “What answer did you give him?” asked Dounia. “At first I said I would not take any message to you. Then he said that he would do his utmost to obtain an interview with you without my help. He assured me that his passion for you was a passing infatuation, now he has no feeling for you. He doesn’t want you to marry Luzhin.... His talk was altogether rather muddled.” “How do you explain him to yourself, Rodya? How did he strike you?” “I must confess I don’t quite understand him. He offers you ten thousand, and yet says he is not well off. He says he is going away, and in ten minutes he forgets he has said it. Then he says he is going to be married and has already fixed on the girl.... No doubt he has a motive, and probably a bad one. But it’s odd that he should be so clumsy about it if he had any designs against you.... Of course, I refused this money on your account, once for all. Altogether, I thought him very strange.... One might almost think he was mad. But I may be mistaken; that may only be the part he assumes. The death of Marfa Petrovna seems to have made a great impression on him.” “God rest her soul,” exclaimed Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “I shall always, always pray for her! Where should we be now, Dounia, without this three thousand! It’s as though it had fallen from heaven! Why, Rodya, this morning we had only three roubles in our pocket and Dounia and I were just planning to pawn her watch, so as to avoid borrowing from that man until he offered help.” Dounia seemed strangely impressed by Svidrigaïlov’s offer. She still stood meditating. “He has got some terrible plan,” she said in a half whisper to herself, almost shuddering. Raskolnikov noticed this disproportionate terror. “I fancy I shall have to see him more than once again,” he said to Dounia. “We will watch him! I will track him out!” cried Razumihin, vigorously. “I won’t lose sight of him. Rodya has given me leave. He said to me himself just now. ‘Take care of my sister.’ Will you give me leave, too, Avdotya Romanovna?” Dounia smiled and held out her hand, but the look of anxiety did not leave her face. Pulcheria Alexandrovna gazed at her timidly, but the three thousand roubles had obviously a soothing effect on her. A quarter of an hour later, they were all engaged in a lively conversation. Even Raskolnikov listened attentively for some time, though he did not talk. Razumihin was the speaker. “And why, why should you go away?” he flowed on ecstatically. “And what are you to do in a little town? The great thing is, you are all here together and you need one another—you do need one another, believe me. For a time, anyway.... Take me into partnership, and I assure you we’ll plan a capital enterprise. Listen! I’ll explain it all in detail to you, the whole project! It all flashed into my head this morning, before anything had happened... I tell you what; I have an uncle, I must introduce him to you (a most accommodating and respectable old man). This uncle has got a capital of a thousand roubles, and he lives on his pension and has no need of that money. For the last two years he has been bothering me to borrow it from him and pay him six per cent. interest. I know what that means; he simply wants to help me. Last year I had no need of it, but this year I resolved to borrow it as soon as he arrived. Then you lend me another thousand of your three and we have enough for a start, so we’ll go into partnership, and what are we going to do?” Then Razumihin began to unfold his project, and he explained at length that almost all our publishers and booksellers know nothing at all of what they are selling, and for that reason they are usually bad publishers, and that any decent publications pay as a rule and give a profit, sometimes a considerable one. Razumihin had, indeed, been dreaming of setting up as a publisher. For the last two years he had been working in publishers’ offices, and knew three European languages well, though he had told Raskolnikov six days before that he was “schwach” in German with an object of persuading him to take half his translation and half the payment for it. He had told a lie then, and Raskolnikov knew he was lying. “Why, why should we let our chance slip when we have one of the chief means of success—money of our own!” cried Razumihin warmly. “Of course there will be a lot of work, but we will work, you, Avdotya Romanovna, I, Rodion.... You get a splendid profit on some books nowadays! And the great point of the business is that we shall know just what wants translating, and we shall be translating, publishing, learning all at once. I can be of use because I have experience. For nearly two years I’ve been scuttling about among the publishers, and now I know every detail of their business. You need not be a saint to make pots, believe me! And why, why should we let our chance slip! Why, I know—and I kept the secret—two or three books which one might get a hundred roubles simply for thinking of translating and publishing. Indeed, and I would not take five hundred for the very idea of one of them. And what do you think? If I were to tell a publisher, I dare say he’d hesitate—they are such blockheads! And as for the business side, printing, paper, selling, you trust to me, I know my way about. We’ll begin in a small way and go on to a large. In any case it will get us our living and we shall get back our capital.” Dounia’s eyes shone. “I like what you are saying, Dmitri Prokofitch!” she said. “I know nothing about it, of course,” put in Pulcheria Alexandrovna, “it may be a good idea, but again God knows. It’s new and untried. Of course, we must remain here at least for a time.” She looked at Rodya. “What do you think, brother?” said Dounia. “I think he’s got a very good idea,” he answered. “Of course, it’s too soon to dream of a publishing firm, but we certainly might bring out five or six books and be sure of success. I know of one book myself which would be sure to go well. And as for his being able to manage it, there’s no doubt about that either. He knows the business.... But we can talk it over later....” “Hurrah!” cried Razumihin. “Now, stay, there’s a flat here in this house, belonging to the same owner. It’s a special flat apart, not communicating with these lodgings. It’s furnished, rent moderate, three rooms. Suppose you take them to begin with. I’ll pawn your watch to-morrow and bring you the money, and everything can be arranged then. You can all three live together, and Rodya will be with you. But where are you off to, Rodya?” “What, Rodya, you are going already?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna asked in dismay. “At such a minute?” cried Razumihin. Dounia looked at her brother with incredulous wonder. He held his cap in his hand, he was preparing to leave them. “One would think you were burying me or saying good-bye for ever,” he said somewhat oddly. He attempted to smile, but it did not turn out a smile. “But who knows, perhaps it is the last time we shall see each other...” he let slip accidentally. It was what he was thinking, and it somehow was uttered aloud. “What is the matter with you?” cried his mother. “Where are you going, Rodya?” asked Dounia rather strangely. “Oh, I’m quite obliged to...” he answered vaguely, as though hesitating what he would say. But there was a look of sharp determination in his white face. “I meant to say... as I was coming here... I meant to tell you, mother, and you, Dounia, that it would be better for us to part for a time. I feel ill, I am not at peace.... I will come afterwards, I will come of myself... when it’s possible. I remember you and love you.... Leave me, leave me alone. I decided this even before... I’m absolutely resolved on it. Whatever may come to me, whether I come to ruin or not, I want to be alone. Forget me altogether, it’s better. Don’t inquire about me. When I can, I’ll come of myself or... I’ll send for you. Perhaps it will all come back, but now if you love me, give me up... else I shall begin to hate you, I feel it.... Good-bye!” “Good God!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Both his mother and his sister were terribly alarmed. Razumihin was also. “Rodya, Rodya, be reconciled with us! Let us be as before!” cried his poor mother. He turned slowly to the door and slowly went out of the room. Dounia overtook him. “Brother, what are you doing to mother?” she whispered, her eyes flashing with indignation. He looked dully at her. “No matter, I shall come.... I’m coming,” he muttered in an undertone, as though not fully conscious of what he was saying, and he went out of the room. “Wicked, heartless egoist!” cried Dounia. “He is insane, but not heartless. He is mad! Don’t you see it? You’re heartless after that!” Razumihin whispered in her ear, squeezing her hand tightly. “I shall be back directly,” he shouted to the horror-stricken mother, and he ran out of the room. Raskolnikov was waiting for him at the end of the passage. “I knew you would run after me,” he said. “Go back to them—be with them... be with them to-morrow and always.... I... perhaps I shall come... if I can. Good-bye.” And without holding out his hand he walked away. “But where are you going? What are you doing? What’s the matter with you? How can you go on like this?” Razumihin muttered, at his wits’ end. Raskolnikov stopped once more. “Once for all, never ask me about anything. I have nothing to tell you. Don’t come to see me. Maybe I’ll come here.... Leave me, but don’t leave them. Do you understand me?” It was dark in the corridor, they were standing near the lamp. For a minute they were looking at one another in silence. Razumihin remembered that minute all his life. Raskolnikov’s burning and intent eyes grew more penetrating every moment, piercing into his soul, into his consciousness. Suddenly Razumihin started. Something strange, as it were, passed between them.... Some idea, some hint, as it were, slipped, something awful, hideous, and suddenly understood on both sides.... Razumihin turned pale. “Do you understand now?” said Raskolnikov, his face twitching nervously. “Go back, go to them,” he said suddenly, and turning quickly, he went out of the house. I will not attempt to describe how Razumihin went back to the ladies, how he soothed them, how he protested that Rodya needed rest in his illness, protested that Rodya was sure to come, that he would come every day, that he was very, very much upset, that he must not be irritated, that he, Razumihin, would watch over him, would get him a doctor, the best doctor, a consultation.... In fact from that evening Razumihin took his place with them as a son and a brother. 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. . Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved April 2022, from Fyodor Dostoyevsky. 2001. CRIME AND PUNISHMENT https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2554/2554-h/2554-h.htm#link2HCH0023 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 , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

An Unexpected Reunion: Confronting Demons of Memory

একটি অপ্রত্যাশিত পুনর্মিলন: স্মৃতির ভূতের মুখোমুখি হওয়া

Ein unerwartetes Wiedersehen: Konfrontation mit Dämonen der Erinnerung

뜻밖의 재회: 기억의 악마와의 대결

Beklenmedik Bir Buluşma: Hafızanın Şeytanlarıyla Yüzleşmek

In my previous piece, I discussed how Bitcoin and its underlying proof-of-work mechanism represent far more than just a digital currency - they embody a radical re-imagining of power distribution and human organization. Today, we witness a powerful real-world example of these principles in action through Julian Assange's long-awaited return to freedom. On June 26, 2024, Assange, the founder of WikiLeaks, finally embraced his family members in Canberra, Australia, after 14 years of legal battles and confinement. This moment of reunion was made possible, in part, by the very technology Assange had advocated during its early days: Bitcoin. As reported by Bitcoin Magazine, an anonymous donor contributed over 8 BTC - worth nearly $500,000 - to cover the entire cost of Assange's private charter flight home. This generous act, executed swiftly and without intermediaries, exemplifies the core strengths of Bitcoin that we've long discussed: Censorship Resistance: Despite the controversial nature of Assange's case, the donor was able to support a cause they believed in without fear of reprisal or interference from traditional financial institutions.


Borderless Transactions: The donation crossed international boundaries effortlessly, facilitating a complex logistical operation involving multiple countries.


Financial Sovereignty: The donor exercised complete control over their funds, choosing to allocate a significant sum to a cause they deemed worthy without seeking anyone's permission.


Pseudonymity: While the transaction is visible on the blockchain, the donor's identity remains protected, allowing them to support a politically sensitive cause without personal risk. This event serves as a powerful reminder of why Satoshi Nakamoto's creation continues to resonate so deeply with those who value individual liberty and freedom of information. Assange and WikiLeaks were early adopters of Bitcoin, accepting donations in the cryptocurrency as far back as 2010 when it was still a niche concept. The symmetry is striking - a technology that Assange helped popularize as a tool for financial freedom has now played a crucial role in securing his physical freedom. It's a testament to the long-term vision of those early cryptographers and cypherpunks who saw in Bitcoin the potential for a more open and just world. As we reflect on this moment, let's consider how it connects to our broader discussion of proof-of-work as an emancipation engine: Practical Impact: While we often discuss proof-of-work in theoretical terms, this event shows its tangible power to effect change in the real world.


Community Power: The Bitcoin community's long-standing support for Assange culminated in this significant act of solidarity, demonstrating how shared values can translate into collective action.


Redefining Influence: Traditional power structures were bypassed entirely in this process, with a single individual wielding enough influence to alter the course of a high-profile international case.


Global Implications: This event will likely resonate far beyond Assange's personal story, potentially inspiring others to leverage Bitcoin for causes they believe in. As we move forward, it's crucial to recognize that the true power of Bitcoin lies not just in its technology, but in how we choose to use it. The anonymous donor's act of generosity serves as an inspiring example of how individuals can harness this technology to make a meaningful difference in the world. In conclusion, as Bitcoin continues to evolve from a philosophical ideal to a tool for practical liberation, we must remain mindful of its potential to reshape power dynamics and empower individuals. Assange's journey home, facilitated by an anonymous Bitcoin donation, is not just a personal victory - it's a powerful affirmation of the principles we've been discussing all along. In my previous piece , I discussed how Bitcoin and its underlying proof-of-work mechanism represent far more than just a digital currency - they embody a radical re-imagining of power distribution and human organization. Today, we witness a powerful real-world example of these principles in action through Julian Assange's long-awaited return to freedom. piece piece On June 26, 2024, Assange, the founder of WikiLeaks, finally embraced his family members in Canberra, Australia, after 14 years of legal battles and confinement. This moment of reunion was made possible, in part, by the very technology Assange had advocated during its early days: Bitcoin. As reported by Bitcoin Magazine, an anonymous donor contributed over 8 BTC - worth nearly $500,000 - to cover the entire cost of Assange's private charter flight home. This generous act, executed swiftly and without intermediaries, exemplifies the core strengths of Bitcoin that we've long discussed: Censorship Resistance: Despite the controversial nature of Assange's case, the donor was able to support a cause they believed in without fear of reprisal or interference from traditional financial institutions. Borderless Transactions: The donation crossed international boundaries effortlessly, facilitating a complex logistical operation involving multiple countries. Financial Sovereignty: The donor exercised complete control over their funds, choosing to allocate a significant sum to a cause they deemed worthy without seeking anyone's permission. Pseudonymity: While the transaction is visible on the blockchain, the donor's identity remains protected, allowing them to support a politically sensitive cause without personal risk. Censorship Resistance: Despite the controversial nature of Assange's case, the donor was able to support a cause they believed in without fear of reprisal or interference from traditional financial institutions. Censorship Resistance: Despite the controversial nature of Assange's case, the donor was able to support a cause they believed in without fear of reprisal or interference from traditional financial institutions. Borderless Transactions: The donation crossed international boundaries effortlessly, facilitating a complex logistical operation involving multiple countries. Borderless Transactions: The donation crossed international boundaries effortlessly, facilitating a complex logistical operation involving multiple countries. Financial Sovereignty: The donor exercised complete control over their funds, choosing to allocate a significant sum to a cause they deemed worthy without seeking anyone's permission. Financial Sovereignty: The donor exercised complete control over their funds, choosing to allocate a significant sum to a cause they deemed worthy without seeking anyone's permission. Pseudonymity: While the transaction is visible on the blockchain, the donor's identity remains protected, allowing them to support a politically sensitive cause without personal risk. Pseudonymity: While the transaction is visible on the blockchain, the donor's identity remains protected, allowing them to support a politically sensitive cause without personal risk. This event serves as a powerful reminder of why Satoshi Nakamoto's creation continues to resonate so deeply with those who value individual liberty and freedom of information. Assange and WikiLeaks were early adopters of Bitcoin, accepting donations in the cryptocurrency as far back as 2010 when it was still a niche concept. The symmetry is striking - a technology that Assange helped popularize as a tool for financial freedom has now played a crucial role in securing his physical freedom. It's a testament to the long-term vision of those early cryptographers and cypherpunks who saw in Bitcoin the potential for a more open and just world. As we reflect on this moment, let's consider how it connects to our broader discussion of proof-of-work as an emancipation engine: Practical Impact: While we often discuss proof-of-work in theoretical terms, this event shows its tangible power to effect change in the real world. Community Power: The Bitcoin community's long-standing support for Assange culminated in this significant act of solidarity, demonstrating how shared values can translate into collective action. Redefining Influence: Traditional power structures were bypassed entirely in this process, with a single individual wielding enough influence to alter the course of a high-profile international case. Global Implications: This event will likely resonate far beyond Assange's personal story, potentially inspiring others to leverage Bitcoin for causes they believe in. Practical Impact: While we often discuss proof-of-work in theoretical terms, this event shows its tangible power to effect change in the real world. Practical Impact: While we often discuss proof-of-work in theoretical terms, this event shows its tangible power to effect change in the real world. Community Power: The Bitcoin community's long-standing support for Assange culminated in this significant act of solidarity, demonstrating how shared values can translate into collective action. Community Power: The Bitcoin community's long-standing support for Assange culminated in this significant act of solidarity, demonstrating how shared values can translate into collective action. Redefining Influence: Traditional power structures were bypassed entirely in this process, with a single individual wielding enough influence to alter the course of a high-profile international case. Redefining Influence: Traditional power structures were bypassed entirely in this process, with a single individual wielding enough influence to alter the course of a high-profile international case. Global Implications: This event will likely resonate far beyond Assange's personal story, potentially inspiring others to leverage Bitcoin for causes they believe in. Global Implications: This event will likely resonate far beyond Assange's personal story, potentially inspiring others to leverage Bitcoin for causes they believe in. As we move forward, it's crucial to recognize that the true power of Bitcoin lies not just in its technology, but in how we choose to use it. The anonymous donor's act of generosity serves as an inspiring example of how individuals can harness this technology to make a meaningful difference in the world. In conclusion, as Bitcoin continues to evolve from a philosophical ideal to a tool for practical liberation, we must remain mindful of its potential to reshape power dynamics and empower individuals. Assange's journey home, facilitated by an anonymous Bitcoin donation, is not just a personal victory - it's a powerful affirmation of the principles we've been discussing all along.

Bitcoin: From Philosophical Ideal to Practical Liberation

বিটকয়েন: দার্শনিক আদর্শ থেকে ব্যবহারিক মুক্তি পর্যন্ত

Bitcoin: Vom philosophischen Ideal zur praktischen Befreiung

Bitcoin: del ideal filosófico a la liberación práctica

Bitcoin : de l’idéal philosophique à la libération pratique

बिटकॉइन: दार्शनिक आदर्श से व्यावहारिक मुक्ति तक

ビットコイン：哲学的理想から実践的解放へ

비트코인: 철학적 이상에서 실용적인 해방까지

Bitcoin: do ideal filosófico à libertação prática

Биткойн: от философского идеала к практическому освобождению

Bitcoin: Felsefi İdealden Pratik Özgürlüğe

Bitcoin: Từ lý tưởng triết học đến giải phóng thực tế

比特币：从哲学理想到实践解放

In a tale straight out of a tech thriller, Kytch, a small tech company, has taken on fast-food giant McDonald's over the operation of the latter's notoriously unreliable ice cream machines. This story is as much about innovation as it is about the little guy taking on the corporate giant in the digital age. Strap yourselves in as we journey over the golden arches and into this Mcflurry of emotions and turmoil. The Ice Cream Machine That Needed Therapy. We have all been in a McDonald’s drive-through on a hot summer day or had a car full of angry hungry family members and heard the infamous words “I am sorry, but our ice cream machine is down.” It is something that has been echoed through the ages, and I am sure at some point would have even made the pope say a curse word and drive off on his Harley Davidson. Keep in mind as you read that broken-down soft-serve machines cost business owners $625 in lost sales per day. That is why a small tech company known as Kytch came to our rescue. Queue the inspirational music. What is the Kytch? Kytch, founded by tech enthusiasts Melissa Nelson and Jeremy O’Sullivan, developed a device designed to tackle the common and frustrating issue of malfunctioning ice cream machines. Their smart device, the Kytch Solution, provides real-time monitoring and diagnostics to preemptively address issues, reduce downtime, and ultimately, ensure that customers can always get their beloved treats such as McFlurries and sundaes. The device connects to the ice cream machines and sends alerts to restaurant owners, allowing them to fix minor problems before they escalate. It seemed like a win-win: McDonald’s franchisees could keep their machines running smoothly, and Kytch would gain a foothold in the fast-food tech market….but like artificial sweeteners and Anna Nicole marrying for love, it was not meant to be. Not Mclovin It. McDonald's did not greet Kytch's innovation with open arms. Before Kytch came along, Taylor had a repair monopoly on the McFlurry machines. When the machines broke down or hadn’t been cleaned, the machine would shut down, and only a certified Taylor technician could troubleshoot or make repairs. Hence the frustration: the machines often break down and a tech has to be dispatched to get them running again. Enter Kytch. Kytch invented a device that allows McDonald’s franchise owners to do basic repairs on the machines and get them running again. Taylor didn’t like that…not at all. Lawsuits were filed, harsh words were exchanged….it was just like a family reunion. Excuse Me, I Need to Speak With a Manager. According to a lawsuit filed by Kytch, they started telling its franchise partners that Kytch devices could cause “serious human injury.” In July 2021, Kytch filed a restraining order against Taylor claiming that the company had stolen Kytch’s trade secrets. Taylor had begun selling a device similar to Kytch’s, and Kytch has alleged that Taylor stole one of their devices and reverse-engineered it. The court granted the restraining order. The fast-food giant issued warnings to franchisees against using Kytch devices, citing safety and liability concerns. McDonald's also partnered with Taylor, the manufacturer of its ice cream machines, to develop their own solution to the problem. Kytch accused McDonald's and Taylor of unfairly trying to squash competition and maintain control over the repair and maintenance of the ice cream machines. According to Kytch, McDonald's actions were not about safety but about stifling innovation and protecting their own interests. The conflict escalated into a legal battle, with Kytch filing a lawsuit against McDonald's. The suit alleges that McDonald's engaged in false advertising, deceptive trade practices, and interference with contractual relationships. Kytch argues that McDonald's knew their machines were problematic and that Kytch's device offered a legitimate solution that the fast-food giant wanted to suppress. In the court of public opinion, the case has significant attention. Many see it as a classic story of innovation stifled by a corporate giant. Social media “Boomed” with support for Kytch, with many customers sharing their own frustrations about McDonald's frequently out-of-order ice cream machines. One such avenue for frustrations is known as https://mcbroken.com/. A website designed to track the machines in real time. McDonald's says that rumors of their breakdowns are greatly exaggerated, but even they have poked fun at the problem. The Hamburger With Missing Pickles. The Kytch vs. McDonald's saga highlights broader issues in the tech and business world. It raises questions about the control large corporations exert over smaller innovators. It also underscores the importance of competition and innovation in improving products and services. For McDonald's franchisees, the case represents a fight for the ability to choose the best solutions for their businesses. For customers, it is a hope that someday soon, the phrase "The ice cream machine is broken" will be a thing of the past. Or maybe it will remain the same. As the legal battle continues, one thing is clear: the digital age has transformed not just how we live and work, but also how we fight for innovation. Kytch’s clever hacks and determination have turned a seemingly mundane issue into a high-stakes drama, leaving us all McLovin' the intrigue. For more information on Kytch and pending lawsuits, visit the links below: https://www.farm-equipment.com/blogs/6-opinions-columns/post/21533-r2r-meltdown-and-a-900-million-lawsuit-against-mcdonalds https://news.bloomberglaw.com/business-and-practice/ex-clare-locke-client-fires-back-at-firm-in-mcflurry-fees-fight In a tale straight out of a tech thriller, Kytch, a small tech company, has taken on fast-food giant McDonald's over the operation of the latter's notoriously unreliable ice cream machines. This story is as much about innovation as it is about the little guy taking on the corporate giant in the digital age. Strap yourselves in as we journey over the golden arches and into this Mcflurry of emotions and turmoil. The Ice Cream Machine That Needed Therapy. We have all been in a McDonald’s drive-through on a hot summer day or had a car full of angry hungry family members and heard the infamous words “I am sorry, but our ice cream machine is down.” It is something that has been echoed through the ages, and I am sure at some point would have even made the pope say a curse word and drive off on his Harley Davidson. Keep in mind as you read that broken-down soft-serve machines cost business owners $625 in lost sales per day. That is why a small tech company known as Kytch came to our rescue. Queue the inspirational music. What is the Kytch? Kytch , founded by tech enthusiasts Melissa Nelson and Jeremy O’Sullivan, developed a device designed to tackle the common and frustrating issue of malfunctioning ice cream machines. Their smart device, the Kytch Solution, provides real-time monitoring and diagnostics to preemptively address issues, reduce downtime, and ultimately, ensure that customers can always get their beloved treats such as McFlurries and sundaes. Kytch The device connects to the ice cream machines and sends alerts to restaurant owners, allowing them to fix minor problems before they escalate. It seemed like a win-win: McDonald’s franchisees could keep their machines running smoothly, and Kytch would gain a foothold in the fast-food tech market….but like artificial sweeteners and Anna Nicole marrying for love, it was not meant to be. Not Mclovin It. McDonald's did not greet Kytch's innovation with open arms. Before Kytch came along, Taylor had a repair monopoly on the McFlurry machines. When the machines broke down or hadn’t been cleaned, the machine would shut down, and only a certified Taylor technician could troubleshoot or make repairs. Hence the frustration: the machines often break down and a tech has to be dispatched to get them running again. Enter Kytch. Kytch invented a device that allows McDonald’s franchise owners to do basic repairs on the machines and get them running again. Taylor didn’t like that…not at all. Lawsuits were filed, harsh words were exchanged….it was just like a family reunion. a device Excuse Me, I Need to Speak With a Manager. According to a lawsuit filed by Kytch, they started telling its franchise partners that Kytch devices could cause “serious human injury.” In July 2021, Kytch filed a restraining order against Taylor claiming that the company had stolen Kytch’s trade secrets. Taylor had begun selling a device similar to Kytch’s, and Kytch has alleged that Taylor stole one of their devices and reverse-engineered it. The court granted the restraining order. The fast-food giant issued warnings to franchisees against using Kytch devices, citing safety and liability concerns. McDonald's also partnered with Taylor, the manufacturer of its ice cream machines, to develop their own solution to the problem. Kytch accused McDonald's and Taylor of unfairly trying to squash competition and maintain control over the repair and maintenance of the ice cream machines. According to Kytch, McDonald's actions were not about safety but about stifling innovation and protecting their own interests. The conflict escalated into a legal battle, with Kytch filing a lawsuit against McDonald's. The suit alleges that McDonald's engaged in false advertising, deceptive trade practices, and interference with contractual relationships. Kytch argues that McDonald's knew their machines were problematic and that Kytch's device offered a legitimate solution that the fast-food giant wanted to suppress. In the court of public opinion, the case has significant attention. Many see it as a classic story of innovation stifled by a corporate giant. Social media “Boomed” with support for Kytch, with many customers sharing their own frustrations about McDonald's frequently out-of-order ice cream machines. One such avenue for frustrations is known as https://mcbroken.com/ . A website designed to track the machines in real time. McDonald's says that rumors of their breakdowns are greatly exaggerated, but even they have poked fun at the problem. https://mcbroken.com/ The Hamburger With Missing Pickles. The Kytch vs. McDonald's saga highlights broader issues in the tech and business world. It raises questions about the control large corporations exert over smaller innovators. It also underscores the importance of competition and innovation in improving products and services. For McDonald's franchisees, the case represents a fight for the ability to choose the best solutions for their businesses. For customers, it is a hope that someday soon, the phrase "The ice cream machine is broken" will be a thing of the past. Or maybe it will remain the same. As the legal battle continues, one thing is clear: the digital age has transformed not just how we live and work, but also how we fight for innovation. Kytch’s clever hacks and determination have turned a seemingly mundane issue into a high-stakes drama, leaving us all McLovin' the intrigue. For more information on Kytch and pending lawsuits, visit the links below: https://www.farm-equipment.com/blogs/6-opinions-columns/post/21533-r2r-meltdown-and-a-900-million-lawsuit-against-mcdonalds https://www.farm-equipment.com/blogs/6-opinions-columns/post/21533-r2r-meltdown-and-a-900-million-lawsuit-against-mcdonalds https://news.bloomberglaw.com/business-and-practice/ex-clare-locke-client-fires-back-at-firm-in-mcflurry-fees-fight https://news.bloomberglaw.com/business-and-practice/ex-clare-locke-client-fires-back-at-firm-in-mcflurry-fees-fight

McLovin' the Ice Cream Hack: Kytch vs. McDonald's in the Digital Age

I was reading through my newsreader this morning and wondered what I could do if I could mainline that content right into my brain. What could you do if your noggin had access to all of the Internet's content in just a thought? Would you do it? The thought started with a series of articles on Nueralink and raised even more questions than just becoming NEO. Here are some of the questions that popped into my head. I'm just asking '"for a friend." What would the warranty be on the chip? Do I get a limited warranty on parts and labor for the life of the implant?
Do I need a subscription, and what happens if I stop paying?
Would the free plan include advertising? If I am not on a paid tier, will I get an antacid ad when I try to fall asleep?
Is the installation DIY, or must I book an appointment with a certified technician?
Is there an open-source option?
Can I fall asleep in a meeting and just let it answer for me?
What happens if my neural implant gets hacked?
If I'm unsatisfied with my neural implant, can I return it for a full refund or store credit?
What's the battery life on this thing? Will I need to plug myself in at night?
Can I resell my implant on Ebay? Mercari?
Does it ship with Amazon Prime?
Does it integrate with Zapier?
Can it run Linux?
Would I get spammed in my brain?
Can salespeople contact me through it?
Does it have an alarm clock?
Is there a payment plan, or could I get it on layaway?
Will it help me remember everyone’s name at my high school reunion?
Could it help me forget half of the people from my high school? I’m just curious about the consumer aspects of this. Honestly, I think we would turn into Jello if we could call up any fact, language, directions or ability to know everything. Why leave the house? Some of the articles that got me started. https://www.statnews.com/2024/07/08/neuralink-elon-musk-scientific-ethics-brain-computer-interface/?embedable=true https://augmentedhorizon.beehiiv.com/p/chip-every-brain-internet-rewiring-kids-minds?embedable=true https://www.hindustantimes.com/business/elon-musk-says-second-neuralink-brain-implant-to-give-people-superpowers-in-a-week-101720666555269.html?embedable=true I was reading through my newsreader this morning and wondered what I could do if I could mainline that content right into my brain. What could you do if your noggin had access to all of the Internet's content in just a thought? Would you do it? The thought started with a series of articles on Nueralink and raised even more questions than just becoming NEO. Here are some of the questions that popped into my head. I'm just asking '"for a friend." What would the warranty be on the chip? Do I get a limited warranty on parts and labor for the life of the implant? Do I need a subscription, and what happens if I stop paying? Would the free plan include advertising? If I am not on a paid tier, will I get an antacid ad when I try to fall asleep? Is the installation DIY, or must I book an appointment with a certified technician? Is there an open-source option? Can I fall asleep in a meeting and just let it answer for me? What happens if my neural implant gets hacked? If I'm unsatisfied with my neural implant, can I return it for a full refund or store credit? What's the battery life on this thing? Will I need to plug myself in at night? Can I resell my implant on Ebay? Mercari? Does it ship with Amazon Prime? Does it integrate with Zapier? Can it run Linux? Would I get spammed in my brain? Can salespeople contact me through it? Does it have an alarm clock? Is there a payment plan, or could I get it on layaway? Will it help me remember everyone’s name at my high school reunion? Could it help me forget half of the people from my high school? What would the warranty be on the chip? Do I get a limited warranty on parts and labor for the life of the implant? Do I need a subscription, and what happens if I stop paying? Would the free plan include advertising? If I am not on a paid tier, will I get an antacid ad when I try to fall asleep? Is the installation DIY, or must I book an appointment with a certified technician? Is there an open-source option? Can I fall asleep in a meeting and just let it answer for me? What happens if my neural implant gets hacked? If I'm unsatisfied with my neural implant, can I return it for a full refund or store credit? What's the battery life on this thing? Will I need to plug myself in at night? Can I resell my implant on Ebay? Mercari? Does it ship with Amazon Prime? Does it integrate with Zapier? Can it run Linux? Would I get spammed in my brain? Can salespeople contact me through it? Does it have an alarm clock? Is there a payment plan, or could I get it on layaway? Will it help me remember everyone’s name at my high school reunion? Could it help me forget half of the people from my high school? I’m just curious about the consumer aspects of this. Honestly, I think we would turn into Jello if we could call up any fact, language, directions or ability to know everything. Why leave the house? Some of the articles that got me started. https://www.statnews.com/2024/07/08/neuralink-elon-musk-scientific-ethics-brain-computer-interface/?embedable=true https://www.statnews.com/2024/07/08/neuralink-elon-musk-scientific-ethics-brain-computer-interface/?embedable=true https://augmentedhorizon.beehiiv.com/p/chip-every-brain-internet-rewiring-kids-minds?embedable=true https://augmentedhorizon.beehiiv.com/p/chip-every-brain-internet-rewiring-kids-minds?embedable=true https://www.hindustantimes.com/business/elon-musk-says-second-neuralink-brain-implant-to-give-people-superpowers-in-a-week-101720666555269.html?embedable=true https://www.hindustantimes.com/business/elon-musk-says-second-neuralink-brain-implant-to-give-people-superpowers-in-a-week-101720666555269.html?embedable=true

If You Could Get a Neural Implant to Access ChatGPT, or Any LLM, Would You Let It?

Life in 2100 According to the Most Powerful AI Model Today

03/28 Crypto Market Update Let's face it: the crypto market's been about as exciting as watching paint dry lately. But then, in walks Litecoin, the rebellious teenager of the world, defying the odds and skyrocketing to a two-week high of around $99. Now, this 9.25% jump in 24 hours has us scratching our heads – what's going on here? crypto Sleeping Giants Awake (and Maybe Cause a Little Trouble First) Here's the first plot twist: a bunch of dormant Litecoin tokens worth over $60 million decided to wake up from their slumber and rejoin the party on March 5th. It was the biggest daily jump for these sleepyheads on record. Now, this reunion wasn't exactly smooth sailing. The market initially freaked out, causing a 19% price drop. But hey, maybe it was just a case of first-day jitters? Because guess what? The market quickly absorbed these revived tokens, leading to a 37.25% rebound. This whole scenario feels eerily similar to what happened before Litecoin's 2017 bull run, where a similar awakening of dormant tokens paved the way for a massive price surge. So, is history repeating itself? Buckle up, folks, it's getting interesting. Coinbase Futures: The Shiny New Toy That Might Lure the Big Guys Adding fuel to the fire is a rumor that Coinbase will launch cash-settled Litecoin futures contracts in April. Now, this might sound like financial jargon overload, but here's the gist: it could attract a whole new crowd – the big institutional investors. Remember what happened when CME launched Bitcoin futures in 2017? The market went nuts! Could this be the secret sauce for Litecoin's future success? We don't have a crystal ball (yet!), but it's definitely something to keep an eye on. Strong Foundations: Not Just About Price But it's not all about price jumps. Litecoin's network itself seems to be in tip-top shape. The hash rate, which basically measures how secure the network is, is hitting record highs. This suggests that miners, the folks who keep the whole thing running, are feeling pretty confident. Maybe it's because of the upcoming Bitcoin halving event (where the rewards for mining Bitcoin get cut in half). This often leads to a price increase for Bitcoin, and sometimes, its ripple effect reaches other cryptocurrencies like Litecoin. So, even if you're not a techie, understand this: strong network = happy miners = potentially good news for Litecoin. The Chart Whisperers and Their Predictions Now, for those who like to analyze charts and lines more than we do, here's some good news. Litecoin's recent price action suggests it might have broken free from a long downtrend. In financial speak, that's a bullish signal. Plus, there's strong support from traders (think of it like having a bunch of people cheering for Litecoin) and a positive indicator called the RSI. The bottom line? The charts seem to be whispering that Litecoin might keep climbing, potentially reaching around $127.25 by April. But hey, remember, the crypto market can be as unpredictable as a teenager's mood. There's always a chance it could retreat and test support levels at $75.50. Oh, and Don't Forget About the Rest of the Crypto Zoo While Litecoin steals the show, there's other drama unfolding in the crypto world: A judge said "no way" to Coinbase's attempt to ditch a lawsuit from the SEC. This legal battle could have a major impact on crypto exchanges and regulations. Coinbase vs. SEC: Rumors are swirling about a potential mega-merger between some big names in AI – SingularityNet, , and Ocean Protocol. This could create a $7.5 billion giant in the AI-powered blockchain space. Talk about a power couple! AI Token Merger? Fetch.ai The NFT game Munchables got hacked, resulting in a massive loss of ETH. This serves as a stark reminder that security in the NFT space is crucial. NFT Security Breach: The Final Word: Don't Be a Blind Follower Remember, the crypto market is exciting, but it's also risky. Don't just blindly follow the latest trends. Do your own research, understand the risks, and maybe consult with someone who isn't as easily swayed by shiny objects (like, ahem, some of us). This article is just a glimpse into the ever-changing world of crypto, but hopefully, it keeps you entertained (and maybe a little informed) along the way.

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