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Fanaticism nor devoured by the desire of vengeance

The Witch-Doctor Seeks Vengeance

Vengeance and Mercy

Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar by Edgar Rice Burroughs, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . La Seeks Vengeance La Seeks Vengeance Swinging back through the jungle in a wide circle the ape-man came to the river at another point, drank and took to the trees again and while he hunted, all oblivious of his past and careless of his future, there came through the dark jungles and the open, parklike places and across the wide meadows, where grazed the countless herbivora of the mysterious continent, a weird and terrible caravan in search of him. There were fifty frightful men with hairy bodies and gnarled and crooked legs. They were armed with knives and great bludgeons and at their head marched an almost naked woman, beautiful beyond compare. It was La of Opar, High Priestess of the Flaming God, and fifty of her horrid priests searching for the purloiner of the sacred sacrificial knife. Never before had La passed beyond the crumbling outer walls of Opar; but never before had need been so insistent. The sacred knife was gone! Handed down through countless ages it had come to her as a heritage and an insignia of her religious office and regal authority from some long-dead progenitor of lost and forgotten Atlantis. The loss of the crown jewels or the Great Seal of England could have brought no greater consternation to a British king than did the pilfering of the sacred knife bring to La, the Oparian, Queen and High Priestess of the degraded remnants of the oldest civilization upon earth. When Atlantis, with all her mighty cities and her cultivated fields and her great commerce and culture and riches sank into the sea long ages since, she took with her all but a handful of her colonists working the vast gold mines of Central Africa. From these and their degraded slaves and a later intermixture of the blood of the anthropoids sprung the gnarled men of Opar; but by some queer freak of fate, aided by natural selection, the old Atlantean strain had remained pure and undegraded in the females descended from a single princess of the royal house of Atlantis who had been in Opar at the time of the great catastrophe. Such was La. Burning with white-hot anger was the High Priestess, her heart a seething, molten mass of hatred for Tarzan of the Apes. The zeal of the religious fanatic whose altar has been desecrated was triply enhanced by the rage of a woman scorned. Twice had she thrown her heart at the feet of the godlike ape-man and twice had she been repulsed. La knew that she was beautiful—and she was beautiful, not by the standards of prehistoric Atlantis alone, but by those of modern times was La physically a creature of perfection. Before Tarzan came that first time to Opar, La had never seen a human male other than the grotesque and knotted men of her clan. With one of these she must mate sooner or later that the direct line of high priestesses might not be broken, unless Fate should bring other men to Opar. Before Tarzan came upon his first visit, La had had no thought that such men as he existed, for she knew only her hideous little priests and the bulls of the tribe of great anthropoids that had dwelt from time immemorial in and about Opar, until they had come to be looked upon almost as equals by the Oparians. Among the legends of Opar were tales of godlike men of the olden time and of black men who had come more recently; but these latter had been enemies who killed and robbed. And, too, these legends always held forth the hope that some day that nameless continent from which their race had sprung, would rise once more out of the sea and with slaves at the long sweeps would send her carven, gold-picked galleys forth to succor the long-exiled colonists. The coming of Tarzan had aroused within La’s breast the wild hope that at last the fulfillment of this ancient prophecy was at hand; but more strongly still had it aroused the hot fires of love in a heart that never otherwise would have known the meaning of that all-consuming passion, for such a wondrous creature as La could never have felt love for any of the repulsive priests of Opar. Custom, duty and religious zeal might have commanded the union; but there could have been no love on La’s part. She had grown to young womanhood a cold and heartless creature, daughter of a thousand other cold, heartless, beautiful women who had never known love. And so when love came to her it liberated all the pent passions of a thousand generations, transforming La into a pulsing, throbbing volcano of desire, and with desire thwarted this great force of love and gentleness and sacrifice was transmuted by its own fires into one of hatred and revenge. It was in a state of mind superinduced by these conditions that La led forth her jabbering company to retrieve the sacred emblem of her high office and wreak vengeance upon the author of her wrongs. To Werper she gave little thought. The fact that the knife had been in his hand when it departed from Opar brought down no thoughts of vengeance upon his head. Of course, he should be slain when captured; but his death would give La no pleasure—she looked for that in the contemplated death agonies of Tarzan. He should be tortured. His should be a slow and frightful death. His punishment should be adequate to the immensity of his crime. He had wrested the sacred knife from La; he had lain sacrilegious hands upon the High Priestess of the Flaming God; he had desecrated the altar and the temple. For these things he should die; but he had scorned the love of La, the woman, and for this he should die horribly with great anguish. The march of La and her priests was not without its adventures. Unused were these to the ways of the jungle, since seldom did any venture forth from behind Opar’s crumbling walls, yet their very numbers protected them and so they came without fatalities far along the trail of Tarzan and Werper. Three great apes accompanied them and to these was delegated the business of tracking the quarry, a feat beyond the senses of the Oparians. La commanded. She arranged the order of march, she selected the camps, she set the hour for halting and the hour for resuming and though she was inexperienced in such matters, her native intelligence was so far above that of the men or the apes that she did better than they could have done. She was a hard taskmaster, too, for she looked down with loathing and contempt upon the misshapen creatures amongst which cruel Fate had thrown her and to some extent vented upon them her dissatisfaction and her thwarted love. She made them build her a strong protection and shelter each night and keep a great fire burning before it from dusk to dawn. When she tired of walking they were forced to carry her upon an improvised litter, nor did one dare to question her authority or her right to such services. In fact they did not question either. To them she was a goddess and each loved her and each hoped that he would be chosen as her mate, so they slaved for her and bore the stinging lash of her displeasure and the habitually haughty disdain of her manner without a murmur. For many days they marched, the apes following the trail easily and going a little distance ahead of the body of the caravan that they might warn the others of impending danger. It was during a noonday halt while all were lying resting after a tiresome march that one of the apes rose suddenly and sniffed the breeze. In a low guttural he cautioned the others to silence and a moment later was swinging quietly up wind into the jungle. La and the priests gathered silently together, the hideous little men fingering their knives and bludgeons, and awaited the return of the shaggy anthropoid. Nor had they long to wait before they saw him emerge from a leafy thicket and approach them. Straight to La he came and in the language of the great apes which was also the language of decadent Opar he addressed her. “The great Tarmangani lies asleep there,” he said, pointing in the direction from which he had just come. “Come and we can kill him.” “Do not kill him,” commanded La in cold tones. “Bring the great Tarmangani to me alive and unhurt. The vengeance is La’s. Go; but make no sound!” and she waved her hands to include all her followers. Cautiously the weird party crept through the jungle in the wake of the great ape until at last he halted them with a raised hand and pointed upward and a little ahead. There they saw the giant form of the ape-man stretched along a low bough and even in sleep one hand grasped a stout limb and one strong, brown leg reached out and overlapped another. At ease lay Tarzan of the Apes, sleeping heavily upon a full stomach and dreaming of Numa, the lion, and Horta, the boar, and other creatures of the jungle. No intimation of danger assailed the dormant faculties of the ape-man—he saw no crouching hairy figures upon the ground beneath him nor the three apes that swung quietly into the tree beside him. The first intimation of danger that came to Tarzan was the impact of three bodies as the three apes leaped upon him and hurled him to the ground, where he alighted half stunned beneath their combined weight and was immediately set upon by the fifty hairy men or as many of them as could swarm upon his person. Instantly the ape-man became the center of a whirling, striking, biting maelstrom of horror. He fought nobly but the odds against him were too great. Slowly they overcame him though there was scarce one of them that did not feel the weight of his mighty fist or the rending of his fangs. 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 (1993). Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/92/pg92-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.

La Seeks Vengeance

Astounding Stories of Super-Science April 1931, by Astounding Stories is part of HackerNoon’s Book Blog Post series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . The Exile of Time - Chapter VII: The Vengeance of Tugh Myriad individual scenes of horror were enacted. Metal travesties of the human form ran along the city streets, overturning stalled vehicles, climbing into houses, roaming dark hallways, breaking into rooms. There was a woman who afterward told that she crouched in a corner, clutching her child, when the door of her room was burst in. Her husband, who had kept them there thinking it was the safest thing to do, fought futilely with the great thing of iron. Its sword slashed his head from his body with a single stroke. The woman and the little child screamed, but the monster ignored them. They had a radio, tuned to a station in New Jersey which was broadcasting the events. The Robot seized the instrument as though in a frenzy of anger, tore it apart, then rushed from the room. No one could give a connected picture of the events of that horrible night. It was a series of disjointed incidents out of which the imagination must construct the whole. The panics were everywhere. The streets were stalled with traffic and running, shouting, fighting people. And the area around Greenwich Village brought reports of continued horror. The Robots were of many different forms; some pseudo-human; others, great machines running amuck—things more monstrous, more horrible even, than those which mocked humanity. There was a great pot-bellied monster which forced its way somehow to a roof. It encountered a crouching woman and child in a corner of the parapet, seized them, one in each of its great iron hands, and whirled them out over the housetops. By dawn it seemed that the Robots had mounted several projectors of the giant red beam on the roofs of Patton Place. They held a full square mile, now, around Tugh's house. The police and firemen had long since given up fighting them. They were needed elsewhere—the police to try and cope with the panics, and the firemen to fight the conflagrations which everywhere began springing up. Fires, the natural outcome of chaos; and fires, incendiary—made by criminals who took advantage of the disaster to fatten like ghouls upon the dead. They prowled the streets. They robbed and murdered at will. The giant beams of the Robots carried a frigid blast for miles. By dawn of that June 10th, the south wind was carrying from the enemy area a perceptible wave of cold even as far as Westchester. Allen, flying over the city, saw the devastated area clearly. Ice in the streets—smashed vehicles—the gruesome litter of sword-slashed human bodies. And other human bodies, plucked apart; strewn.... Alten's plane flew at an altitude of some two thousand feet. In the growing daylight the dark prowling figures of the metal men were plainly seen. There were no humans left alive in the captured area. The plane dropped a bomb into Washington Square where a dozen or two of the Robots were gathered. It missed them. The plane's pilot had not realized that they were grouped around a projector; its red shaft sprang up, caught the plane and clung to it. Frigid blast! Even at that two thousand feet altitude, for a few seconds Alten and the others were stiffened by the cold. The motor missed; very nearly stopped. Then an intervening rooftop cut off the beam, and the plane escaped. All this I have pictured from what Dr. Alten subsequently told me. He leaves my narrative now, since fate hereafter held him in the New York City of 1935. But he has described for me three horrible days, and three still more horrible nights. The whole world now was alarmed. Every nation offered its forces of air and land and sea to overcome these gruesome invaders. Warships steamed for New York harbor. Soldiers were entrained and brought to the city outskirts. Airplanes flew overhead. On Long Island, Staten Island, and in New Jersey, infantry, tanks and artillery were massed in readiness. But they were all very nearly powerless to attack. Manhattan Island still was thronged with refugees. It was not possible for the millions to escape; and for the first day there were hundreds of thousands hiding in their homes. The city could not be shelled. The influx of troops was hampered by the outrush of civilians. By the night of the tenth, nevertheless, ten thousand soldiers were surrounding the enemy area. It embraced now all the mid-section of the island. The soldiers rushed in. Machine-guns were set up. But the Robots were difficult to find. With this direct attack they began fighting with an almost human caution. Their bodies were impervious to bullets, save perhaps in the orifices of the face which might or might not be vulnerable. But when attacked, they skulked in the houses, or crouched like cautious animals under the smashed vehicles. Then there were times when they would wade forward directly into machine-gun fire—unharmed—plunging on until the gunners fled and the Robots wreaked their fury upon the abandoned gun. The only hand-to-hand conflicts took place on the afternoon of June 10th. A full thousand soldiers were killed—and possibly six or eight of the Robots. The troops were ordered away after that; they made lines across the island to the north and to the south, to keep the enemy from increasing its area. Over Greenwich Village now, the circling planes—at their highest altitude, to avoid the upflung crimson beams—dropped bombs. Hundreds of houses there were wrecked. Tugh's house could not be positively identified, though the attack was directed at it most particularly. Afterward, it was found by chance to have escaped. The night of June 10th brought new horrors. The city lights failed. Against all the efforts of the troops and the artillery fire which now was shelling the Washington Square area, the giant mechanisms pushed north and south. By midnight, with their dull-red beams illumining the darkness of the canyon streets, they had reached the Battery, and spread northward beyond the northern limits of Central Park. It is estimated that by then there were still a million people on Manhattan Island. The night of the 11th, the Robots made their real attack. Those who saw it, from planes overhead, say that upon a roof near Washington Square a machine was mounted from which a red beam sprang. It was not of parallel rays, like the others; this one spread. And of such power it was, that it painted the leaden clouds of the threatening, overcast night. Every plane, at whatever high altitude, felt its frigid blast and winged hastily away to safety. Spreading, dull-red beam! It flashed with a range of miles. Its light seemed to cling to the clouds, staining like blood; and to cling to the air itself with a dull lurid radiance. It was a hot night, that June 11th, with a brewing thunderstorm. There had been occasional rumbles of thunder and lightning flashes. The temperature was perhaps 90° F. Then the temperature began falling. A million people were hiding in the great apartment houses and homes of the northern sections, or still struggling to escape over the littered bridges or by the paralyzed transportation systems—and that million people saw the crimson radiance and felt the falling temperature. 80°. Then 70°. Within half an hour it was at 30°! In unheated houses, in midsummer, in the midst of panic, the people were swept by chilling cold. With no adequate clothing available they suffered greatly—and then abruptly they were freezing. Children wailing with the cold; then asleep in numbed, last slumber.... Zero weather in midsummer! And below zero! How cold it got, there is no one to say. The abandoned recording instrument in the Weather Bureau was found, at 2:16 A.M., the morning of June 12, 1935, to have touched minus 42° F. The gathering storm over the city burst with lightning and thunder claps through the blood-red radiance. And then snow began falling. A steady white downpour, a winter blizzard with the lightning flashing above it, and the thunder crashing. With the lightning and thunder and snow, crazy winds sprang up. They whirled and tossed the thick white snowflakes; swept in blasts along the city streets. It piled the snow in great drifts against the houses; whirled and sucked it upward in white powdery geysers. At 2:30 A.M. there came a change. The dull-red radiance which swept the city changed in color. Through the shades of the spectrum it swung up to violet. And no longer was it a blast of cold, but of heat! Of what inherent temperature the ray of that spreading beam may have been, no one can say. It caught the houses, and everything inflammable burst into flame. Conflagrations were everywhere—a thousand spots of yellow-red flames, like torches, with smoke rolling up from them to mingle with the violet glow overhead. The blizzard was gone. The snow ceased. The storm clouds rolled away, blasted by the pendulum winds which lashed the city. By 3 A.M. the city temperature was over 100° F—the dry, blistering heat of a midsummer desert. The northern city streets were littered with the bodies of people who had rushed from their homes and fallen in the heat, the wild winds and the suffocating smoke outside. And then, flung back by the abnormal winds, the storm clouds crashed together overhead. A terrible storm, born of outraged nature, vent itself on the city. The fires of the burning metropolis presently died under the torrent of falling water. Clouds of steam whirled and tossed and hissed close overhead, and there was a boiling hot rain. By dawn the radiance of that strange spreading beam died away. The daylight showed a wrecked, dead city. Few humans indeed were left alive on Manhattan that dawn. The Robots and their apparatus had gone.... The vengeance of Tugh against the New York City of 1935 was accomplished. (To be continued.) 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. Various. 2009. Astounding Stories of Super-Science, April 1931. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved May 2022 from https://www.gutenberg.org/files/30452/30452-h/30452-h.htm#Page_26 . 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

CHAPTER VII. The Vengeance of Tugh

Silicon Valley: With Swords & Shields

In the land down under, there’s a tale that’s taken flight, literally. Picture this: one lone soul in Perth, Western Australia, is shaking up the skies with complaints about aircraft noise. Move over, kangaroos boxing on the street; this is the real drama unfolding! Now, get ready to have your socks knocked off by numbers. Out of over 51,000 aircraft noise complaints across Australia, nearly 21,000 of them were dropped by our Perth protagonist. That’s some serious air rage! But wait, it gets better. Brisbane tried to join the complaint party, but they only managed to squeak out around 4,700 gripes. Sorry, Brisbane, but Perth is owning the noise game! Now, before you start laughing it off as a case of someone just having a rough day, think again. Studies show that constant aircraft noise can turn even the most chilled Aussie into a grumpy wallaby. We’re talking sleep disturbances, stress levels skyrocketing higher than a kangaroo on a pogo stick—real chaos, mate! And it’s not just about personal comfort. Oh no, we’re diving into the big bucks territory. Property values? Plummeting faster than a boomerang thrown by a toddler! Now, here’s where it gets interesting. We’re not just talking about a random person shouting into the wind. Nope, this Perth warrior is the David to the aviation Goliath, taking on the system with a vengeance! And speaking of systems, Airservices Australia noticed a curious trend: fewer people are making more noise complaints. It’s like everyone’s decided to let this one Aussie do all the heavy lifting, while the rest of the country enjoys their barbies and surf sessions. But let’s not forget the heart of the matter. These aren’t just complaints; they’re battle cries against the tyranny of aircraft noise. It’s like a scene straight out of "Crocodile Dundee," but instead of wrestling crocs, we’re wrestling with jet engines! And while the suits in Canberra debate policies and regulations, our Perth hero is out there, reminding us that one person’s voice can make a noise big enough to echo across the whole continent. So, next time you hear a plane overhead, spare a thought for our Perth pal fighting the good fight against the roar of the engines. And maybe, just maybe, invest in some noise-canceling headphones. So for the Joke! What did the man who lived near an international airport, one of Australia’s international hubs do when he got sick of all the aircraft noise? Answer #. He moved. In the land down under, there’s a tale that’s taken flight, literally. Picture this: one lone soul in Perth, Western Australia, is shaking up the skies with complaints about aircraft noise. Move over, kangaroos boxing on the street; this is the real drama unfolding! Now, get ready to have your socks knocked off by numbers. Out of over 51,000 aircraft noise complaints across Australia , nearly 21,000 of them were dropped by our Perth protagonist. That’s some serious air rage! aircraft noise complaints across Australia But wait, it gets better. Brisbane tried to join the complaint party, but they only managed to squeak out around 4,700 gripes. Sorry, Brisbane, but Perth is owning the noise game! Now, before you start laughing it off as a case of someone just having a rough day, think again. Studies show that constant aircraft noise can turn even the most chilled Aussie into a grumpy wallaby. We’re talking sleep disturbances, stress levels skyrocketing higher than a kangaroo on a pogo stick—real chaos, mate! And it’s not just about personal comfort. Oh no, we’re diving into the big bucks territory. Property values? Plummeting faster than a boomerang thrown by a toddler! Now, here’s where it gets interesting. We’re not just talking about a random person shouting into the wind. Nope, this Perth warrior is the David to the aviation Goliath, taking on the system with a vengeance! And speaking of systems, Airservices Australia noticed a curious trend: fewer people are making more noise complaints. It’s like everyone’s decided to let this one Aussie do all the heavy lifting, while the rest of the country enjoys their barbies and surf sessions. But let’s not forget the heart of the matter. These aren’t just complaints; they’re battle cries against the tyranny of aircraft noise. It’s like a scene straight out of "Crocodile Dundee," but instead of wrestling crocs, we’re wrestling with jet engines! And while the suits in Canberra debate policies and regulations, our Perth hero is out there, reminding us that one person’s voice can make a noise big enough to echo across the whole continent. So, next time you hear a plane overhead, spare a thought for our Perth pal fighting the good fight against the roar of the engines. And maybe, just maybe, invest in some noise-canceling headphones. So for the Joke! What did the man who lived near an international airport, one of Australia’s international hubs do when he got sick of all the aircraft noise? Answer #. He moved.

The Funny Australian Aircraft Noise Complaint  

240 Stories To Learn About Astounding Stories

When speaking on digital transformation, it’s typically in present or past-tense; something we’ve just gone through or are currently in the middle-of. While transformation at any organization of any size is daunting, exhausting, and expensive – if done correctly, it should be a constant. As they say, the only constant is change. There’s only one guarantee; that at the end of whatever digital transformation you're in the midst of, it is inevitably the start of your next. And, . the next 3-letter acronym that will be as transformative and disruptive as “ ” might be “ZKP”, GPT Zero-Knowledge Proofs Last week was the anniversa. And, today “generative AI strategy” is across the country from start-ups through the Fortune 100. Big Data is most certainly back with a vengeance because of this global fascination and unprecedented vision of the potential future. And as Uncle Ben would have told us, . the #1 topic in just about every board room with great data comes great responsibility This disruptive transformation is most certainly not about GPT and this is also much bigger than ZKP. This is about the future of how we store, manage, and protect consumer data. More importantly, this is about how we ourselves, as consumers, take control and ownership over our own data. This is bigger than (personal identifiable information), . PII this is a new era in how we think about designing and developing privacy preserving interfaces We’ve long been warned that “ ” – this primarily alluded to advertising based revenue models powered and personalized by troves of our own data. Regardless of the company, industry, or monetization strategy, data is becoming  increasingly more valuable and proprietary; especially in the context of an ever-growing (large language model) dependent world. GitHub sent a shocking revelation through the product community when it two years ago – we had to ask, what if the data behind GitHub was now more valuable than the product of GitHub itself? Which in turn introduced yet another “feedback loop” for product managers everywhere, the “data feedback loop”. An infinite loop of value-delivery where the data collected delivers a value for the purpose of obtaining more data to drive more value to collect more data … continuously. if the product is free, you are the product LLM launched CoPilot The Big Data Problem to Solve ZKPs are a powerful tool for protecting sensitive data and building secure and private systems. As consumers become more aware of the value of their personal data and the risks of sharing it, they are likely to adopt technologies that give more control over how their data is used – this is the opportunity. I believe the best way to understand zero-knowledge proofs are to start with a classic data collection problem that is as old as time. In the classic “boy meets girl” romcom scenario, everything hinges on the first impression that most typically starts with a simple and harmless introduction: So, let’s say you’re out-and-about and there’s someone who catches your eye that you’d like to get to know better. You might go up, introduce yourself, and ask their name. If they’re so inclined, they’ll share their first name – success! Now, if you were to ask for their full legal name, there would likely be an awkward hesitation. But, what if you asked for their age, and not just their age, but their full date-of-birth? That would be considered inappropriate by most. Let’s not stop there, what if you were to ask for their weight? Now you’re being rude (and in danger of being slapped). But, you persist, you next ask for their home address — this would now be a safety concern. Most of us would never entertain this line of questioning, more-or-less answer. We might even call this scenario of data collection impossible. If we so obviously refuse to give up this level of personal data during this kind of interaction; the question would be, where did we, moments earlier, freely and willingly divulge this information, and not even realize it? The answer is … the bouncer at the door; a trojan-horse of data collection. All that the venue required was a binary, a yes-or-no; if you’re 21 or older. However, in blind “trust”, we hand-over our ID exposing our full name, home address, date-of-birth, weight, eye/hair color, and even donor status to a part-time stranger with no data security experience. We don’t think twice about it because we do whatever is asked of us to get on the other side of that door. And, we do this everyday with the websites we visit as well as the apps we download; blindly agreeing to the terms of service and privacy policy. Zero-Knowledge Proofs are that binary. ZKPs are like showing your ID in a sealed envelope; the person checking knows it's valid without seeing it, ensuring your privacy. It's a way to prove you know something without revealing what it is. . “Proof" is a technical method of demonstrating that a statement is true without revealing any additional information. It's a concrete, verifiable demonstration, based on mathematical principles. While “trust” is more abstract, based on belief. Proof is technical and verifiable. This is a moment where a new and emerging technology will fundamentally change our relationships with the brands we interact with everyday. We are entering an era where that blind-trust can now be replaced by proof Zero-knowledge proofs are a key component in blockchain and decentralized technologies, which can reduce or eliminate the need for intermediaries. In a decentralized system, transactions and data exchanges can be verified independently by the network. ZKPs can streamline various business processes by providing a more efficient way to verify transactions and data without compromising security. This reduces the counterparty risk typically associated with transactions and business operations, . moving the paradigm from one of trust in a single entity to trust in a robust, transparent system When Proof Trumps Trust It is time to get comfortable with . As businesses and organizations seek to protect their customers' privacy and comply with ever-changing data protection regulations, the use of ZKPs will inherently become more widespread. trustlessness A is “trust”; everyone says they have it, but who can prove it? More importantly, what happens when consumers demand “proof” over blind-trust? Above all else, consumers want confidence in the brands they engage with. The question becomes less if you have their trust, but rather, if your competitor can prove it. Users increasingly demand transparency and data protection. By implementing ZKPs, organizations of all sizes across all verticals can provide consumers with proof of data security and ethical practices without exposing underlying internal or proprietary information. This not only enhances customer confidence, but also customer loyalty as they no longer need to rely solely on trust in the brand but can have verifiable assurances. common pillar among the Fortune 100 Trust in a corporation traditionally hinges on its reputation and history of compliance. However, with ZKPs, corporations can now provide cryptographic evidence of compliance with regulations and internal policies. This form of proof-based accountability can supplant the traditional trust-based system, offering more concrete assurances to regulators, stakeholders, as well as the general public. Trust was never given, it was earned; the ZKP construct now fundamentally alters the power dynamic the 100+ year old incumbent had over upstarts. This is a transformative step-change, a disruptive accelerant. As these technologies become more widely adopted, the corporate reliance on trust, stemming from brand reputation or historical performance, could shift towards a model where cryptographic proof plays a more central role. The move towards a proof-based operational model could herald a new era of corporate transparency, security, and efficiency. While the term sounds counterintuitive, we're moving towards a trustless future; a better future. Mo’ Data, Mo’ Problems … Mo’ Opportunities Zero-knowledge proofs are like a magic trick where you prove you know a secret without ever revealing the secret itself. It's a way to say "I know something" without showing what that something is, ensuring privacy and security. This magic is extremely beneficial in . And, this is no longer just about exposing our usernames and passwords – our credit card numbers, banking information, and social security numbers are on the line. a world now riddled with data breaches and security hacks But wait, there’s more … When back in 1994, we could never conceive of a world 30-years later where we now share everything online from our to our . ZKPs will be a driving force behind enhanced data security and privacy of all of our data, bringing with it increased transparency and accountability. This is about embracing innovation as the ultimate competitive advantage in a world where big data keeps getting bigger, and more valuable (to all of us). Pizza Hut processed the first internet transaction sleep data DNA This isn’t innovation, this is inevitability. While “GPT” is at the center of this current digital transformation, “ZKP” is most certainly on deck; trust me. 😂

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