#Fingerprinting Accuracy

[isalro]

Live scan services have transformed the landscape of fingerprinting and background checks. With many advantages compared to the available methods, choosing our live scan services in Lawndale, California provide a solid rationale.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Charcuterie Board, as designed by your votes! Thank you to everyone who participated; this was a fun challenge!

[sydneycbdrepaircentre]

Comparing the screen quality of a generic screen vs. an original Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra screen

Comparing the Screen Quality of a Generic Screen vs. an Original Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra Screen: Ultimate Guide with 15 Shocking Differences 📱 Comparing the Screen Quality of a Generic Screen vs. an Original Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra Screen Introduction In today’s tech-driven world, your smartphone screen is more than just a display—it’s your portal to the digital universe. So when your Samsung…

[pyramidlivescanfingerprinting]

Mobile fingerprinting services provide a level of convenience that many individuals and businesses need. Instead of having to visit a fingerprinting location, you can have a professional come directly to you. If you need a Livescan fingerprint in Laurel, Maryland, mobile services allow you to complete the fingerprinting process without leaving your home or office. This option is especially useful for busy professionals, parents, or anyone who needs a more flexible solution for fingerprinting.

[ahalts]

Biometric Time Attendance Solutions

Biometric time attendance solutions offer an advanced method for tracking employee work hours by using unique biological traits such as fingerprints, facial recognition, or iris scans. These systems enhance security by ensuring that only the authenticated individual can clock in, preventing common issues like buddy punching or fraudulent time entries. Biometric systems are highly accurate, minimizing errors in attendance data. They also save time for employees and managers, as the process of clocking in is swift and requires minimal interaction. Additionally, biometric systems help in maintaining compliance with labor regulations and integrate seamlessly with payroll systems, improving overall workforce efficiency.

More info: https://ahalts.com/solutions/hr-services/outsourcing-time-attendance

[vibeswithdivs]

you don’t mess around - OP81

If you had to describe your job in three words, they’d be: pressure, precision, and absolutely no room for mistakes.

You managed the money that kept McLaren running. Not in the sense of counting coins in a dusty room — no, you lived in digital dashboards and currency exposure spreadsheets. On any given day, you could tell someone how much was in the Swiss account, how the yen was affecting the Singapore deal, and whether a facility payment was going to clear before a supplier had a panic attack.

The job was about timing. Liquidity. Predicting the unpredictable and safeguarding the team’s future — all while juggling numbers with razor-sharp accuracy.

Which is why when a race car driver wandered into your high-stakes, number-heavy corner of the building on a calm Wednesday morning, you stared at him like he’d stepped into a Bond film by mistake.

He paused just inside the glass doors — tall, hoodie-clad, faintly windblown from the chilly British air outside — and looked around with a furrowed brow.

Definitely lost.

Your colleagues peeked over their screens, some wide-eyed, others frozen mid-email. In this room, the loudest thing was usually someone’s keyboard when they were panicking before a deadline.

You were about to go back to calculating rolling cash positions when he spotted you.

He smiled.

It wasn’t a polite PR-smile. It was curious. Warm. Maybe a little amused.

“This definitely isn’t Aerodynamics,” he said, glancing around.

You took your hand off your mouse and leaned back slightly in your chair. “Unless they’ve suddenly decided to start hedging foreign currency risk, no — you’re a few wrong turns deep.”

He took a cautious step in. “It’s… quiet in here.”

You tilted your head. “Not when the dollar drops half a percent during a five-million-pound contract negotiation.”

He grinned at that. “Sounds intense.”

You offered a thin smile. “That’s one word for it.”

There was a beat. Then he added, “I’m supposed to be meeting Zak, but I think I took a wrong left somewhere between partnerships and… whatever room had seventeen monitors and no windows.”

You stood, brushing off your skirt. “You’re about four corridors off course and six floors deep into stress.”

He looked around. “Well, if I’m going to get lost, at least I ended up somewhere interesting.”

You blinked at him. “You’re the first person to say that about this room. Ever.”

He gave a half-grin, toeing one foot on the floor like he was trying to kill time. “So what do you actually do in here?”

You pointed to your screen, where a live dashboard showed inflows, outflows, and forecasts across multiple international entities. “See that? That’s how much is available in five different currencies to fund race weekend logistics without breaking any laws or overdraft limits.”

Oscar leaned slightly forward, genuinely intrigued. “And you just… know how to do that?”

“I know how to make sure no one gets a call from legal,” you said, turning your gaze back to him. “Including you.”

He laughed, a genuine, caught-off-guard sound. “Wow. You guys are the quiet enforcers.”

“Quiet, precise, and very well-documented,” you replied smoothly. “We don’t leave fingerprints — just audit trails.”

That earned a low whistle. “You don’t mess around.”

“No, but people sometimes think we do — right up until they want to order a new hospitality suite and we say, ‘not unless you want to explain that to Finance.’”

He looked impressed. “Duly noted.”

Another colleague passed behind you, giving Oscar a side-eye like he was a Martian. You cleared your throat and took a step forward, suddenly feeling aware of just how much of the room was pretending not to eavesdrop.

“You’re Oscar,” you said, a little more grounded now.

“And you are…?”

“Y/N,” you replied. “I work in… let’s call it future-proofing.”

That made him pause. “I like that.”

“It sounds less terrifying than ‘I manage the operational cash forecasts for a multimillion-pound motorsport empire,’” you added with a wink.

He smirked. “A motorsport empire, huh?”

“You guys play chess with tires. I play chess with the economy.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it — relaxed, amused, intrigued — felt like a weird sort of reward after a morning spent reviewing intercompany transfers.

“You actually like this stuff?” he asked, pointing at your screen.

You tilted your head. “You like driving into a corner at 200kph hoping your grip calculations are right?”

“…Fair.”

At that moment, a harried admin appeared behind him. “Oscar! There you are — Zak’s been waiting—”

Oscar turned slightly but didn’t move. “Got a little sidetracked.”

The admin blinked at you, surprised. You offered a tight-lipped smile and a “don’t you dare start” eyebrow raise before turning back to him.

“Back to the track?” you asked lightly.

“Back to pretending I know what my engineer is talking about.”

You smiled, unexpectedly. “Fake it till you podium.”

He chuckled. “Hey, Y/N?”

You raised a brow.

“I’m glad I got lost,” he said. “Most detours don’t come with financial sass and a global cash position overview.”

“Flirting with the girl who can freeze team spending is bold,” you replied, smirking.

He shrugged, taking a few steps toward the door. “I’ve raced in Monaco. I like high-risk strategies.”

Before leaving, he turned back over his shoulder, grin softening into something more sincere. “I’ll come back. But next time, I’ll bring coffee. You seem like you don’t take sugar, but I’ll gamble.”

You blinked, not used to someone reading you that quickly.

“…Black. No sugar,” you said after a beat.

He pointed, victorious. “Knew it.”

And with that, he slipped out of the room — leaving behind a trail of confusion, amusement, and a string of open-mouthed stares from your colleagues.

You sat down, turned back to your screen, and tried — very unsuccessfully — to remember what currency hedge you were working on.

But all your brain could supply was: He got your coffee order right.

And maybe… just maybe… some risks were worth taking.

[mrspiastri]

✩ filmy dialogues 🎞️

pairing: oscar piastri x desi!reader

cw: fluff

wc: 1.5k words

an: ty anon for this request! i loved writing it!! <4

"And which one is this again?" Oscar asked as he settled in to watch the movie Y/N had picked out.

"It's a Bollywood movie! You're gonna love it, it was my favorite growing up."

"Is it one of those romance ones?"

Oscar was a bit of a bore when it came to movies. His favorite genre was sci-fi, while Y/N's was rom-coms. Naturally, choosing a movie to watch was always a challenge.

"Well… yes and no. It's like a heist movie, but it has a bit of everything in it, really."

"I don't trust your judgment since you made us watch that movie with those nepo babies."

"That was a mistake on my part, I agree. But this one is so good, I promise."

Movie nights were a staple of the couple’s routine, especially since Oscar was usually busy on weekends. Each week, they took turns picking a movie and rated it based on what they liked most about it. Last week, Oscar had made Y/N watch one of the Star Wars movies. While she wasn’t completely floored, she did agree that Hayden Christensen was a cutie.

"I've got the perfect one. It's called ‘Happy New Year’, it’s iconic.”

"Very well, bring it on."

🪻🪻🪻

The movie started. They skipped through the opening credits and got to the scene where Charlie's father gets framed.

"How did they just put him in jail? Wouldn't there be a formal investigation? Plus, he remembers being drugged. This is quite unrealistic," Oscar said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N let out a sigh, already used to her boyfriend's antics.

"I'm sure they had one, but he was up against a really powerful guy, you know?"

Oscar nodded, not entirely convinced but not completely dismissing the explanation either. They continued watching, Y/N snuggling further into the couch and against her boyfriend's shoulder. It was an unspoken ritual of sorts; she would gently bump her head against his shoulder repeatedly until he laughed and wrapped his arms around her.

"How did he just hack the voting polls? This is part of a global competition. They have to have better firewalls. Also, Team Diamond was terrible, they got booed off stage! How is everyone just accepting that they won?"

Oscar was a yapper, especially during movies.

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her (his) Sprite. "I mean, they have a hacker on their team. It’s possible."

"Yeah, he's like 19, doing all his hacking from a laptop. A regular DELL laptop. Not even a good computer with a proper processor," Oscar grumbled, stuffing some popcorn into his mouth.

She giggled. "Well, maybe he's just that good. Besides, you don’t even know how to hack."

"That’s beside the point, and you know it."

Eventually, they reached the movie’s climax, with things heating up for the team. Y/N sat staring at the screen like she didn’t already know exactly what was going to happen next, despite having watched the movie six times before.

"Wait, so they just enter the vault with him? How does that work?" Oscar continued, pointing out the movie’s logical flaws.

"I mean, they’re lookalikes, so yeah."

"But that fingerprint probably wouldn’t work. It’s been tampered with, so it should come across as invalid."

"Why are they exiting through the sewers? They could just leave normally. This makes no sense."

"Why are they returning?! Now they’ll get arrested!"

If there was one thing Oscar would do, it was interrupt a romantic date with dumb questions.

"Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on the movie’s accuracy, you know?" Y/N teased. "Think instead about how good Deepika looks in that saree." She winked at him.

"You’d look better anyway, and this movie’s too stupid for me not to point out everything wrong with it."

"But that's the fun, right? You don’t need to think too much while watching. Just laugh at the funny stuff and roll your eyes at the dumb moments. It’s still enjoyable. Also, I never look that good in a saree. That’s why I don’t wear them anymore," she said.

"I think you need to stop choosing the movies from next time. And yes, you do look good! I've seen the photos where you wore that blue one!"

Oscar turned Y/N’s body, which had been leaning against his chest, so that she was facing him.

"That was taken when I was in the twelfth grade! I wore it for my graduation, and it looked dumb then too."

"Well, I think you looked beautiful, and you should wear one to that Diwali party we’re going to."

She looked away, cheeks pink.

"I don’t know… it’s such a hassle to drape one. I can’t even do it without my mom’s help."

"I’m right here, aren’t I? I’ll help." He cheerfully tugged her closer to his chest, resting his head on top of hers. She could hear—almost feel—his heartbeat quicken. It was a subtle reminder that even after all this time, Oscar still got butterflies around Y/N.

"It’s super tricky, especially with the pleats. You sure you can help?" she asked, doing her best to speak from where she was trapped under him.

"I’ll try my best, darling. You’ll look better than Deepika too." He chuckled, making Y/N laugh as well, feeling the vibrations of his laughter through where her head was resting.

"Now, forget about that. I wanna watch them dance and win at the finale!" She wriggled out of his hold, reaching for the remote to unpause the movie.

"Hey, no spoilers!"

"You knew that was going to happen!"

🪻🪻🪻

The movie played on, the sounds of Bollywood music filling the room as the final dance number unfolded. Y/N, grinning, hummed along while Oscar groaned dramatically.

“I swear, if they win despite all the cheating—”

“They will win,” she cut in smugly.

Oscar rolled his eyes but didn’t complain further. His arm tightened around her, absentmindedly playing with her fingers. Y/N glanced up at him, finding that, despite all his so-called complaints, he was watching the screen with a slight smile.

"You're secretly enjoying it, aren’t you?" she accused playfully.

"I am not," he denied immediately, though the way his foot tapped to the music betrayed him.

Y/N smirked, scooting closer. "It’s okay, you can admit it."

Oscar sighed dramatically. "Fine. It’s slightly entertaining."

"Aha! I knew it!"

She leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Maybe next time, you’ll actually pick a Bollywood movie yourself."

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Oscar muttered, though his cheeks were pink now too.

They spent the rest of the movie in comfortable silence, save for Y/N’s occasional giggles and Oscar’s inevitable complaints. But when the credits rolled and Y/N stretched, ready to turn the TV off, she felt a pair of arms tighten around her waist.

"Five more minutes, let’s watch the final song,” Oscar mumbled into her hair.

Y/N smiled. "You like cuddling more than watching the movie, don’t you?"

"Maybe."

"That, I’ll allow," she whispered, settling against him once more.

As the grand finale song played, Oscar let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples.

"I don’t know how I just sat through two and a half hours of absolute madness,” he grumbled. "They danced their way into a vault, Y/N. A vault!"

Y/N, completely unbothered, swayed along to the music. "And they looked fabulous while doing it."

Oscar turned to her, suddenly dramatic. "You know what? Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe I need to embrace the bollywoodness of it all."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?"

He dramatically placed a hand on his heart, took a deep breath, and, with all the seriousness he could muster, attempted a line he had definitely not practiced enough.

“Pyaar… dosti hai, Y/N. Aur agar woh… sabse… accha dost nahi ban… sak—wait, what’s the word?"

Y/N blinked. "Ban sakti?"

"Yeah, that. Ban sakti… toh main usko… kabhi love nahi kar sakta!”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Y/N burst out laughing. "That was the worst Hindi I’ve ever heard!”

Oscar groaned. "Oi, cut me some slack! It’s hard!"

"It is," Y/N giggled, still shaking her head. "But you get points for effort."

Oscar leaned back into the couch, shaking his head. "I swear, your movies make it sound so easy. Everyone's just casually breaking into song, dropping poetic love lines, hacking government servers with a budget laptop���"

"That’s the magic of it."

He turned to look at her, her face still lit up from laughing, her eyes sparkling as she hummed along to the credits song.

Oscar sighed, shaking his head. "You know what? Maybe I should start watching more of these. Get my Hindi right. Who knows, I might actually end up enjoying one of them."

Y/N gasped. "Wait—are you saying you’ll finally watch ‘Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham’ with me?"

Oscar groaned. "I walked right into that, didn’t I?"

"Absolutely."

He sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled her closer. "Fine. But I’m allowed to complain."

"You always do."

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Fair."

And as the music played on, he had to admit; maybe Bollywood wasn't all bad, especially if he had her next to him singing along to all the songs.

my first request!! i was so geeked about this lol. also im sorry if you haven’t watched happy new year but it is unfortunately one of my favourites so go watch it rn its so stupidly good haha <4

[t-horn-n]

— waterstrider

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader (female) 

genre: fluff ?

summary: watching you and ghost become you and ghost.

word count: 1 158

There is a certain inconsistency with you that Ghost is able to sense but not quite place when you first join the task force.  You’re the sort that wears her heart upon her sleeve.  You like to fill the room with your jokes and anecdotes and quips.  You spill your guts to the point that Ghost knows more about you and your idiot brother and how your parents have just retired) in the first six months following your arrival than he knew about the Captain in the first three years of knowing him.  On the internet, they would call you one of those people who can’t be mysterious because you yap too much.

Still, there is something that sets you apart from just any old civi.  And it is not simply that you’re good at staying calm in stressful situations, nor that you’re not half bad at military strategy.  Rather, it’s that you’ve compartmentalised yourself into the part that you offer to people (your brother, your parents’ retirement) and the part that you keep tucked into your chest, hidden beneath your ribs.  It’s an illusion, you see, that sense of complete transparency that you project.  

It was years ago, now.   When the scent of high school still clung to you and you were marginally more stupid than you are now.  You got yourself ensnared with the wrong, mean, borderline sociopathic sort of people so quickly that it was a real life example of the snowball effect.  Initially, it was just one time you brushed off your last period class to go around town with these guys you met at the convenience store to get back at your brother who, at the time, had a habit of being overprotective.  

Long story short, the whole situation ended with fingerprints around your neck and your head held down in the river behind the grocery mart that everyone was sure was a mafia front.  You remember being hauled out of that river with astonishing accuracy.  You remember the temperature of the water and the exact thoughts that raced through your mind.

Of course, over the years you recovered, squeezed the silty water from your lungs and learned some common sense.  But events like that are somewhat sticky.  

One of your motivations to join the military was to find the self-confidence to never feel like you did coughing up water and dirt, after all.  

You were wary—cat-like—when you first joined Ghost and the rest of the 141, but that’s just how it is in the military most of the time.  And after a few weeks you were bantering with them like you had known them for years.  Truly, it seemed as though you were the most normal one out of them.

What they don’t know is that you don’t like showers.  Or at least, you don’t like the sensation of the water beating on your face.  It feels like you’ll just forget how to breathe and the water will fill your lungs again.  So instead you’ll stand at the edge of the shower, wetting a soapy washcloth every evening after training.  

You’ll never go swimming, of course.   You won’t take the chance.  Even when you can see the bottom, an irrational, bone-deep paralysis traps you in this space where your thoughts are very loud and your body feels very far away.  It’s fine, though.   There isn't a great deal of demand for aquatic soldiers.  

You don’t like sleeping under a lot of covers either, but you’re a cold sleeper and you don’t have control over the temperature on base, so you layer hoodie over hoodie at night.  Inevitably, you look like a mass of sentient fabric if you ever  encounter one of your  peers in the kitchen late at night.  

Talking is how your little dance with Ghost started, though, late night encounters aside.  Sometimes, you would open with a joke on the way back to base from the training grounds and he would reply with his own and you would both feel a special sense of connection that is a little different than that most often found in  military task forces.  It wasn’t brotherhood, like what linked Ghost to Soap and Price and Gaz.  

On other occasions, you all would be at a bar on the weekend, making the cheap beer taste better with each other’s company.  You and Ghost would be perched on your barstools and he would be telling you about some stunt Soap pulled years ago while the other three men kept each other entertained.  You two would still be there after Price, Soap, and Gaz sobered up in the late night air on the way to the bus stop that took them back to the base.  You would blink and then it was midnight and you were on the bus with all of the other witching hour vagrants that got on after spending too much time staring at the bottom of a glass, but you wouldn’t even see them because you were too busy listening to Simon and his wonderfully deep, tired voice.  You would be pressed shoulder to shoulder, each staring at your feet or your hands.  

There are very special times, too.  The kind that you will remember the sensation of—the moment’s taste, its colors, its imprint on your mind—even after you’ve forgotten the time and place and the words said.  Like when Ghost becomes Simon.  Like when he tells you about his mother and the man she was married to.  Like when he presses his lips to your neck and instead of feeling cold and wet and gross like you expect it to, he just sighs, warmly, in a way that makes you feel like you’ve been filled with helium.

Then, when that dance you were doing becomes more confident, when you start pulling and twisting each other about the dance floor rather than just hoping you’ll brush the other’s hand as you glide aimlessly around, those compartments that you have successfully preserved for the last decade shift, somewhat.  They don’t break, by any means.  Simply, they are rearranged.

Simon runs hot.  Especially when he sleeps, which means that when he crashes in your quarters you de-layer and tuck your cold feet between his calves.  Simon is also a big man, though.  So when he rolls over on to your chest in the middle of the night, you are startled awake.  You remember the pressure as the air in your lungs was replaced by something denser.  While he sleeps—deeply, as he always does in your quarters—you stare at the ceiling, watching the fuzzy darkness undulate over and around itself.

Eventually, you will tell him why you can’t tolerate your face being covered while you sleep.  You’ll divulge the contents of your nightmares.  Someday, his past and yours will be murmured into existence whether on a late-night bus back from town or in his bathroom as you brush your teeth together on some random Thursday night.

— m. list

[wistericaine]

fixed outline | theodore nott

serial killer!theo x writer!reader | fluff but in a dark way | wc: 755

summary: theo steals your manuscript and edits it

tw: mentions/references to death

“Theo, where did you put my manuscript?” you called out.

Your manuscript’s due date was just a couple hours away from now—your editor calling for an emergency meeting to run through your manuscript based on a new date that your publisher had set in stone. Said manuscript had been missing for a couple of days now, something that you were only just now noticing as you tried to look for the binder.

Your feet eventually carried you over to your office, the state of it in a complete disarray with pages thrown across every single surface that one could find. Taped onto the wall, stacks upon stacks piling on your desk, with notepads and smushed papers thrown into trash bin after trash bin. On the top of every single stack was your manuscript, the binder lying peacefully on top of everything with a small sticky note laying down on top of the plastic cover. 

You rolled your eyes as you flipped through the manuscript, looking through the notes that you knew would be inside each page. 

‘Chapter 4: unrealistic disposal timeline.’ was something that you rolled your eyes at—knowing that the issue did not lie with the timeline as much as it laid with Theo’s ego. Your mind flashed through the conversation that had happened just a week ago, with Theo stating that he could finish the murder in half the time that the killer had. 

He had failed to acknowledge this was the killer’s first time killing, but that was okay.

‘Chapter 7: love scene needs more tension.’ was something that caught your eye—your eyes running through the pages to figure out whether Theo was right or not. While the tension was well spaced out, there were places that could have a bit more impact to them. You highlighted those areas with a red pen.

‘Chapter 12: i don’t like luke.’ was something that you chuckled at, a soft scoff escaping your throat as you read that comment. Theo had never liked your character Luke, despite the fact you could never kill him off because of how important he was to the plot. At the end Theo had written a small note, a small address written at the bottom that you would be making your way over to after your meeting. 

You made your way to the meeting after that—scarf wrapped around your neck as your editor ran through the manuscript with you. You had to hold back a chuckle as she read through the small notes that Theo had made, hiding your smile behind your hand as she looked up at you with a slightly concerned look.

“He’s just a true crime fanatic.” you smiled at her.

The two of you continued through the meeting a bit calmer after that—though you could tell that her eyes were resting on you rather seriously. The manuscript was edited rather thoroughly, most of it simply cleaned up except for the parts that you needed to cut for accuracy's sake. 

Your feet carried you to the restaurant after you editor left to head back to the office, heels clicking on concrete and ceramic tile as you slowly made your way over to Theodore’s table. He had a bottle of wine in his hands, as he usually did, a bottle of red that the both of you quite enjoyed. 

“You cleaned up my outline,” you said to him as you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug before sitting down across from him. 

“And your fingertips,” he said, pointing his fork at you. “I told you no touching.”

You rolled your eyes playfully before sighing, looking down at the menu in front of you. “You know that my editor is concerned?” you explained—leaning forward just a bit. “She thinks that you're a killer.”

Theo chuckled dryly at that. “How dare she.”

“You cleaned up my fingerprints?” you asked him curiously, eyes glancing over at him as he nibbled on the small fork in his hands. You had touched one of his projects by accident when going to get food, though hadn’t quite thought about the cleanup that would have to happen after.  “That sounds oddly romantic.”

“Acts of service,” he shrugged simply.

You giggled at that, poking the hand that rested on the table. “Should I be worried?”

“Only if you stop writing.” he said to you seriously—though the smile on his face told you that he was anything but. “I love your writing, you know that?”

“I know.” you smiled softly.

hello everyone, i hope you guys enjoyed! just another small drabble here <3 thanks so much for reading!

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© wistericaine 2025. do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own. reblogs + comments are so very appreciated!

[jvdbxart]

Keeping an eye on you. 🧁 || *Arcane art incominggg*

Bringing you some more Caitlyn art today! 💙🎨

Also, I'm making some changes to the standard prints! Switching from high-glossy to semi-matte photo paper - which is just as rich in contrast, colour and accuracy, but I feel retains more details of the drawing in darker sections. It is also more resistant to fingerprints and isn't as reflective in well-lit rooms! I'm also upgrading the smallest print size from 13x18cm (5x7inch) to 15x21cm (6x8inch)! ✨ So if you're curious, you can find prints of this artwork in a small/medium and a bigger size! Or alternatively, there are FineArt Prints on fancy paper available in limited quantities! ✨

Wishing you all a wonderful Tuesday, lovelies! 💖

[isalro]

Do you need a highly accurate and efficient method for capturing and verifying biometric data? Are you looking for a solution that eliminates errors associated with traditional ink-and-paper methods? A live scan is what you are looking for!

[blackinhistory]

Gladys West

Overcoming racial and gender barriers, she charted a course that led her to become a “hidden figure” behind the ubiquitous Global Positioning System (GPS). West’s work has had a profound impact on how we navigate the world today. Her story illuminates often-overlooked contributions of diverse voices in scientific progress. So, how's her work connected to the present?

Gladys West was born in 1930 in rural Sutherland, Virginia. Her family was an Black farming family and she spent much of her childhood working on the farm, surrounded by sharecroppers. Despite the challenges, she excelled in school and was determined to get an education. West's childhood on a farm instilled in her a deep understanding of precision and calculation. Despite limited resources and societal constraints, she excelled in academics, graduating with a mathematics degree from Virginia State University and went on to earn two master's degrees and a PhD. Her talent propelled her to the Naval Surface Warfare Center, where she embarked on a remarkable 42-year career. It was also there she met her husband, Ira, married in 1957, and had 3 children. She was the 2nd Black woman ever hired, and 1 of 4 Black employees, her husband included.

There, with the backdrop of Cold War tensions and burgeoning space exploration, West tackled complex mathematical problems related to satellite geodesy. This specialized field, equivalent to deciphering Earth's celestial fingerprint, held the key to precisely pinpointing locations in space. West's meticulous calculations, particularly for the groundbreaking Seasat and GEOSAT satellites, became the invisible scaffolding upon which the modern GPS system was built.

For decades, her contributions remained largely unacknowledged due to her race and gender. Yet, the accuracy and efficiency of her work spoke volumes. The precise models she developed for Earth's gravitational field and its subtle variations due to tides and other forces became the bedrock of GPS calculations. Today, whether navigating city streets or pinpointing remote wilderness locations, we unknowingly benefit from West's invisible hand.

Recognition finally arrived later in life. In 2018, the Air Force Space and Missile Pioneers Hall of Fame inducted West, acknowledging her transformative impact. That same year, the BBC included West among its "100 Women," recognizing her groundbreaking contributions. Just three years later, the Royal Academy of Engineering in the UK bestowed upon her their highest individual honor, the Prince Philip Medal, cementing her place as a pioneer in her field. But her legacy extends far beyond accolades. Gladys West stands as a beacon of inspiration, not just for aspiring mathematicians, but for anyone facing systemic barriers. Her story reminds us that the path to groundbreaking discoveries is often paved by those who defy expectations and chart their own unique course.

Photo Source: Wikimedia Source: Wikipedia Source: BBC Source: Britannica Source:  Atlanta Black Star

[sydneycbdrepaircentre]

Comparing the screen quality of a generic screen vs. an original Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra screen

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When it comes to livescan Fingerprint in Laurel, Maryland, precision is key. Accurate fingerprinting is not just about capturing clear images but ensuring they meet the specific standards required for various applications, such as employment or background checks. Precision in fingerprinting helps to avoid delays or rejections that could result from poor-quality prints. By focusing on the details, you ensure that every fingerprint is processed smoothly and efficiently, making your background check experience seamless.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dharna Noor at The Guardian:

Climate experts fear Donald Trump will follow a blueprint created by his allies to gut the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (Noaa), disbanding its work on climate science and tailoring its operations to business interests.

Joe Biden’s presidency has increased the profile of the science-based federal agency but its future has been put in doubt if Trump wins a second term and at a time when climate impacts continue to worsen. The plan to “break up Noaa is laid out in the Project 2025 document written by more than 350 rightwingers and helmed by the Heritage Foundation. Called the Mandate for Leadership: The Conservative Promise, it is meant to guide the first 180 days of presidency for an incoming Republican president. The document bears the fingerprints of Trump allies, including Johnny McEntee, who was one of Trump’s closest aides and is a senior adviser to Project 2025. “The National Oceanographic [sic] and Atmospheric Administration (Noaa) should be dismantled and many of its functions eliminated, sent to other agencies, privatized, or placed under the control of states and territories,” the proposal says.

That’s a sign that the far right has “no interest in climate truth”, said Chris Gloninger, who last year left his job as a meteorologist in Iowa after receiving death threats over his spotlighting of global warming. The guidebook chapter detailing the strategy, which was recently spotlighted by E&E News, describes Noaa as a “colossal operation that has become one of the main drivers of the climate change alarm industry and, as such, is harmful to future US prosperity”. It was written by Thomas Gilman, a former Chrysler executive who during Trump’s presidency was chief financial officer for Noaa’s parent body, the commerce department. Gilman writes that one of Noaa’s six main offices, the Office of Oceanic and Atmospheric Research, should be “disbanded” because it issues “theoretical” science and is “the source of much of Noaa’s climate alarmism”. Though he admits it serves “important public safety and business functions as well as academic functions”, Gilman says data from the National Hurricane Center must be “presented neutrally, without adjustments intended to support any one side in the climate debate”.

[...] Noaa also houses the National Weather Service (NWS), which provides weather and climate forecasts and warnings. Gilman calls for the service to “fully commercialize its forecasting operations”. He goes on to say that Americans are already reliant on private weather forecasters, specifically naming AccuWeather and citing a PR release issued by the company to claim that “studies have found that the forecasts and warnings provided by the private companies are more reliable” than the public sector’s. (The mention is noteworthy as Trump once tapped the former CEO of AccuWeather to lead Noaa, though his nomination was soon withdrawn.)

The claims come amid years of attempts from US conservatives to help private companies enter the forecasting arena – proposals that are “nonsense”, said Rosenberg. Right now, all people can access high-quality forecasts for free through the NWS. But if forecasts were conducted only by private companies that have a profit motive, crucial programming might no longer be available to those in whom business executives don’t see value, said Rosenberg. [...] Fully privatizing forecasting could also threaten the accuracy of forecasts, said Gloninger, who pointed to AccuWeather’s well-known 30- and 60-day forecasts as one example. Analysts have found that these forecasts are only right about half the time, since peer-reviewed research has found that there is an eight- to 10-day limit on the accuracy of forecasts.

The Trump Administration is delivering a big gift to climate crisis denialism as part of Project 2025 by proposing the dismantling and privatizing the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and National Weather Service (NWS) in his potential 2nd term.

This should frighten people to vote Democratic up and down the ballot if you want the NOAA and NWS to stay intact.

[bigfootbeat]

David Thompson 1811 Bigfoot Tracks

British adventurer and geologist David Thompson reportedly came upon Sasquatch footprints in 1811. Thompson observed massive, human-like footprints in the snow during an excursion in the Canadian Rockies that exceeded the size of any known species. As a scientist and rationalist, Thompson meticulously recorded the tracks in his notebook without drawing any supernatural conclusions. However, this early story has grown to be a cornerstone of Sasquatch lore, sparking debate and excitement among both believers and skeptics. Thompson's discovery is significant, as it links Indigenous history with modern cryptozoology and represents one of the earliest Western accounts of such a potential species.

Following Thompson's discovery, hundreds of Sasquatch footprints have been located in remote forested regions like Northern California, British Columbia, and the Pacific Northwest. Averaging 15 to 20 inches in length and varying in breadth, these imprints are notably larger than human feet. Despite their size, some impressions show features such as toes, arches, and skin ridges similar to those of a primate. Many amateur researchers and cryptozoologists have documented these prints through photographs and plaster casts, using them as evidence for the existence of Sasquatch. These traces raise intriguing questions about the possibility of an unknown large, bipedal primate inhabiting the wilderness. Critics, however, argue that most of these prints are hoaxes, misidentified animal tracks, or the result of natural phenomena such as erosion or overlapping bear tracks.

The debate over Sasquatch footprints blends mystery, science, and mythology. Indigenous peoples across North America have long told stories of Sasquatch and other names for massive, hairy creatures said to roam the forests. For many Indigenous communities, Sasquatch is viewed as either a physical or spiritual being, existing as a part of the natural world. These cultural accounts, which predate Western discoveries of such footprints, lend weight to the idea that they could belong to an undiscovered species. However, critics assert that these legends are primarily mythological, serving as cautionary tales about humanity's relationship with nature rather than accurate biological knowledge. This tension between scientific skepticism and cultural conviction is at the heart of the Sasquatch footprint debate.

Hoaxes have further complicated the discussion, as many individuals have admitted to creating Sasquatch footprints to perpetuate the myth or gain attention. Using massive wooden cutouts or other tools, hoaxers have crafted tracks that have even fooled experienced trackers and investigators. Notable events, such as the 1958 discovery of massive tracks in Bluff Creek, California, were later revealed to be fabrications, casting doubt on related claims. These deceptions undermine the credibility of genuine discoveries and make it difficult to distinguish between real evidence and fraud. Nevertheless, some footprints remain difficult to explain due to their depth, anatomical accuracy, and the remote and inaccessible locations where they were found. For instance, some tracks show dermal ridges—patterns of skin texture similar to fingerprints—that are difficult to replicate artificially, suggesting that at least some discoveries may hold significant value.

Advocates of Sasquatch argue that footprints, combined with eyewitness accounts, point to the existence of an unidentified animal. They draw parallels to the mountain gorilla, which was considered a mythical creature until it was formally identified in the early 20th century. Cryptozoologists often theorize that Sasquatch could be a surviving relic of Gigantopithecus, a massive ape species that lived in Asia over 100,000 years ago and might have crossed into North America via the Bering Land Bridge. If such a species exists, its rarity and elusive behavior would explain why only footprints and anecdotal stories have been discovered. This idea keeps the search alive, as researchers continue to explore dense forests and rugged terrains in pursuit of new footprints and physical evidence.

Despite the absence of concrete evidence such as DNA, bones, or a physical specimen, critics remain highly doubtful of Sasquatch’s existence. While fascinating, footprints alone are not enough to satisfy the scientific community. Many experts dismiss the footprints as fabrications or misinterpretations of known phenomena. For example, bear tracks can appear humanoid when the front and rear paws overlap, and snowmelt or erosion can distort tracks, making them seem larger or more human-like in shape. These natural explanations, combined with the history of hoaxes, lead many to conclude that Sasquatch footprints are a modern myth rather than evidence of a real creature.

David Thompson's 1811 account of footprints introduced Sasquatch into Western narratives and bridged Indigenous beliefs with modern curiosity. People around the world continue to find fascination in these footprints, whether as evidence of an undiscovered species, a cultural archetype, or an elaborate series of hoaxes. The enduring allure of Sasquatch footprints reflects humanity’s deep curiosity about the unknown and the mysteries of the natural world. Even without definitive evidence, Sasquatch and its footprints remain a significant part of history and folklore. As long as vast, unspoiled wilderness areas exist, adventurers, researchers, and storytellers will remain motivated to uncover the truth behind these mysterious tracks.