#b tech information technology

[cmruniversity]

Best Information Technology Colleges in Bangalore | CMR University

Join the Best B.Tech in Information Technology Colleges in Bangalore, Karnataka. At CMR University we offer B.Tech in Information Technology and ensure to further your career with our top notch program. Enroll now!

[rutujat313]

Top B Tech Information Technology Colleges in Chennai: Your Pathway to a Successful IT Career

Looking for the best B Tech Information Technology college in Chennai? This city is home to several prestigious institutions offering cutting-edge IT programs. A B Tech in Information Technology from a top college in Chennai will provide you with essential skills in programming, networking, cybersecurity, and data management. With a focus on both theoretical knowledge and practical experience, these colleges prepare students to thrive in the dynamic IT industry, ensuring a promising career ahead.

[suassymbiosis]

Best Engineering Colleges | Top Engineering Colleges in Indore | B Tech CSIT Colleges indore

Symbiosis Indore is one of the best B.Tech in computer science & information technology. Top Engineering Colleges in Indore

[srikrishnainstitute]

Unlocking Engineering Excellence: SKIT College - Best Engineering College in Bangalore

In the bustling city of Bangalore, where technological innovation thrives, SKIT College stands as a beacon of excellence in engineering education. Renowned for its commitment to academic rigor, practical learning, and industry-relevant curriculum, SKIT College has consistently been recognized as one of the best engineering colleges in the region. For more details please visit here : https://writeupcafe.com/unlocking-engineering-excellence-skit-college-best-engineering-college-in-bangalore/ 

[myshardauniversity]

Top 4 Specializations in B Tech Engineering

Your discretion is a resolution when it comes to ascertaining the best specialization for you. You might be researching around the domain, already, and must be doing a commendable job. However, you gain an impetus when your selections match with the handpicked courses by experts. The best way to identify an engineering course is to discover your passion. Choosing a course in adherence to the same domain would be far more fun. Start reflecting if your aspirations meet with any of the given engineering courses.     

Information Technology 

IT no longer needs an introduction. Information Technology struck the market when computers were introduced. However, the term was coined way ahead of time. Through the B Tech Information Technology syllabus, you are introduced to many such precepts. 

The obtainment, saving, and extension of information were introduced through computers. The exchange became possible and faster with the advent of the internet. Today, information technology serves as the foundation of the services sector and a lucrative job platform. 

Cyber Security 

With the growth of the internet and the wide-scale exchange of information posed a threat from dangerous sources. Just like any other technology, IT brought several challenges along with it. Cyber threats are the dominating ones. 

Enrolling in the B Tech Cyber Security, prepares students for combatting the security challenges in the realm of information technology. Today, cyber threats have the potential to hack information by harnessing government-authorized web portals.  

Civil Engineering 

Aspirants fail to see the upsides of civil engineering and fall prey to the struggle that is initially made by the new entrants of the domain. Civil engineering is one of the most rewarding career domains for individuals. Staring with a B Tech in Civil Engineering course can be your foundation step toward a bright career. Don’t forget that well-qualified civil engineers are in high demand in the government sector.   

Electrical and Electronic Engineering 

Devices or systems that utilize electricity or electronics are studied, analyzed, and maintained with the help of electrical and electronic engineers. Seeing the vast B Tech EEE syllabus often perplexes students. However, engineering demands a great deal of mental and physical strength to help students to succeed. 

Conclusion 

The options of courses for engineering are copious and so are the opportunities. The domain of engineering has seen an upward movement in the demand graph for qualified professionals in the past few years.

[suzukiblu]

"Lex Luthor's latest character flaw" poll winner, "deciding he wants grandbabies and giving Robin a cloning lab about it". Behold, a new WIP strikes!!

“What,” Tim says, staring blankly at the brightly-lit and airy sunroom full of very obvious cloning technology in the very expensive penthouse that Lex Luthor’s bodyguards just dragged a handcuffed Red Robin and Spoiler into after kidnapping them straight off patrol in the Diamond District in the middle of an active crisis situation with the League of Assassins and disabling all their tech and every single one of their trackers six and a half hours ago, down to the bastardized Kryptonian-tech ones in their back molars and two more in both of their suits that Tim didn’t even know existed, plus the one he put in Steph’s collar that she didn’t know existed. Babs is probably just about feral by now. Bruce is definitely feral by now. 

And Lex Luthor is drinking what appears to be a neon purple protein shake out of a rocks glass while sitting at a neatly-arranged desk in the center of the sunroom lab, looking idly bored and scrolling through whatever’s on his phone with his free hand. 

Alright then, Tim thinks carefully. 

“There you are, I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten al Ghul riled up for nothing,” Luthor says, barely glancing up from his tablet. 

“. . . which al Ghul,” Tim asks with wary dread. 

“All of them,” Luthor says, setting down his tablet to give him a pleasant smile. 

Well, now Tim knows why nobody’s dropped in a skylight to rescue them yet. And also why half of Gotham is currently on fire. 

“Uh,” Steph says, glancing around the sunroom lab. “So like, lead-lined glass in here, then, or . . . ?” 

“We’re in Connecticut, so no,” Luthor replies dismissively. “Anyway, the Boy Scout always gets suspicious of too much lead in one place. Which I personally find darling, since anyone in Metropolis without at least a lead-lined and soundproofed bedroom is essentially asking for Kryptonian voyeurs, whether intentionally or not on said Kryptonians’ parts. Also, privacy laws exist for a reason. As do patents, copyrights, attorney-client privilege, HIPAA . . .” 

“Connecticut?” Steph repeats incredulously. “What the frick is in Connecticut?” 

“Currently, us,” Luthor replies matter-of-factly. “Hope, Mercy, do me a favor and go check the security systems manually, just in case any invasive species of vermin have gotten into them. Also, yes, there is kryptonite, and no, there is actually much more than you’re theorizing.” 

“You have literally no idea how much kryptonite we’re theorizing,” Steph says as the bodyguards both leave with an affirming nod. Luthor gives her a pitying look, then turns his chair a few degrees towards Tim. Tim immediately expects the inevitable threat or ultimatum, and braces himself for–

“I’d apologize for all the fuss, but I don’t actually care about inconveniencing you and don’t see the point in pretending I ever would,” Luthor informs him. Tim stares blankly at him again. What is even happening right now? “Now then, what are your intentions in regards to ‘Supernova’, as I hear someone’s started calling himself now. ‘Themself’? I’m not sure if ‘Supernova’ is meant to be gender-affirming or more a ‘too old to stick with ‘Superboy’ but there are already three ‘Supermen’ active and the whole, you know, general stubborn individualism they’re so fond of. Or ‘he’s’ so fond of. Whichever."

Tim stares at him. 

“Is this supposed to be a trap for Supernova or a shovel talk for me?” he asks, because a) he’s not telling Lex Luthor anything about Kon’s gender or personal choices that Kon hasn’t publicly stated, and b) only Lex Luthor would actually kidnap two active vigilantes in the middle of a crisis he’d apparently pre-arranged to give a–well, no, Bruce would also do that, definitely. But this is not a Batman talk, either way. 

Batman’s “talks” all involve tests, for one thing, so actually so far this is an improvement. 

“It’s an engagement present,” Luthor says pleasantly. 

Tim’s brain crashes, then does the slowest reboot of his life. He’s recovered from concussions faster, he’s pretty sure. 

“They’re . . . not engaged, though?” Steph says skeptically. “Or, like, even dating?” 

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively.

[tachvintlogic]

The Pitstop

It was a normal day at the Justice League Watchtower Satellite. Heroes were milling about, Batman was monitoring Earth from the deck, there was an astronaut tapping on the glass, Flash was joking with Martian Manhunter...

What, what was that 3rd thing?

Batman looked up and saw in front of his view of Earth was an astronaut, wearing NASA's latest suit design. He stood up which alerted Flash and Martian Manhunter to the strange sight.

He tensed as the astronaut began to phase through the walls and entered the deck. Batman was able to activate the intruder alarm when the astronaut removed their helmet.

The astronaut was a caucasian male approximately in his early forties. There were bags under his blue eyes like many of his own cohorts, and he had black hair as well.

"We need to dock."

"Excuse me?"

"Who are you?" asked Martian Manhunter.

The astronaut's face brightened immediately upon noticing Martian Manhunter. "Oh! I'm part of the manned Mars mission! We just launched and were on our way, but something is making a weird noise, and we don't know what it is. Since we're so close, can we just dock one of your garages so we can figure out what it is and fix it?"

Batman recalled that NASA had launched less than a few hours ago.

"How did you get through the glass?" asked Flash.

"I'm the token metahuman crewmember. So can we dock or not?"

"Of course," said Martian Manhunter, looking at Batman. And what was Batman supposed to say? No?

In the parking garage, Martian Manhunter was talking the other crewmembers while the Watchtower's engineers and the metahuman astronaut, who they learned was named Danny Fenton, inspected the space shuttle and tried to figure out what was making the strange noise.

Batman watched from the sidelines as the others bustled about. They had been at it for an hour, and Batman wondered if he should ask Tim to come by and help. He had informed Tim of the development while the astronauts were docking. After all, he had been involved in some of the designs of this particular spacecraft that were done by Wayne Aerospace.

He was doubtful that Tim could help that much. After all, in all likelihood it wasn't something he designed that was the problem.

Then, one of the engineers fiddled with something and Batman suddenly heard loud rattling.

A crewmember who was listening to Martian Manhunter startled and their eyes widened. "That's it! That's the sound!"

"What it that?" asked Batman.

The engineer pulled out a piece of equipment that had the Wayne Enterprise logo on it. "This module is broken," she said, "it could be repaired but honestly," she inhaled sharply, "this thing is a hot mess."

Mr. Fenton jumped and landed on the ship like the artificial gravity didn't affect him. When he saw the logo on the broken equipment, he shook his fist at the sky.

"Of course it's something by Wayne Industries! We give them half our budget hoping they're share some cool alien inspired technology like whatever they did to build this satellite and instead we get half-assed garbage!"

Batman made a point to not share the latest gadgets with the US government (he didn't trust them), but he wouldn't call their products that weren't built using alien tech garbage. That seemed a little harsh.

"Seriously, was the person who designed this sleep-deprived when they made this?" Suddenly Batman found the walls and floor to be incredibly interesting and looked away.

"Oh that's par for the course when it comes to the stuff they give us."

"I am so sorry."

As they discussed how to improvise a replacement for the equipment quickly enough to avoid drastically altering the astronaut's flight path, Batman got a text from Tim.

So I'm free now. Did the astronauts figure out what was wrong or do they need me? - RR

He texted back.

They figured it out. The engineers have it handled. - B

[mostlysignssomeportents]

CDA 230 bans Facebook from blocking interoperable tools

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 2) in WINNIPEG, then TOMORROW (May 3) in CALGARY, then SATURDAY (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act is the most widely misunderstood technology law in the world, which is wild, given that it's only 26 words long!

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

CDA 230 isn't a gift to big tech. It's literally the only reason that tech companies don't censor on anything we write that might offend some litigious creep. Without CDA 230, there'd be no #MeToo. Hell, without CDA 230, just hosting a private message board where two friends get into serious beef could expose to you an avalanche of legal liability.

CDA 230 is the only part of a much broader, wildly unconstitutional law that survived a 1996 Supreme Court challenge. We don't spend a lot of time talking about all those other parts of the CDA, but there's actually some really cool stuff left in the bill that no one's really paid attention to:

https://www.aclu.org/legal-document/supreme-court-decision-striking-down-cda

One of those little-regarded sections of CDA 230 is part (c)(2)(b), which broadly immunizes anyone who makes a tool that helps internet users block content they don't want to see.

Enter the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University and their client, Ethan Zuckerman, an internet pioneer turned academic at U Mass Amherst. Knight has filed a lawsuit on Zuckerman's behalf, seeking assurance that Zuckerman (and others) can use browser automation tools to block, unfollow, and otherwise modify the feeds Facebook delivers to its users:

https://knightcolumbia.org/documents/gu63ujqj8o

If Zuckerman is successful, he will set a precedent that allows toolsmiths to provide internet users with a wide variety of automation tools that customize the information they see online. That's something that Facebook bitterly opposes.

Facebook has a long history of attacking startups and individual developers who release tools that let users customize their feed. They shut down Friendly Browser, a third-party Facebook client that blocked trackers and customized your feed:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/once-again-facebook-using-privacy-sword-kill-independent-innovation

Then in in 2021, Facebook's lawyers terrorized a software developer named Louis Barclay in retaliation for a tool called "Unfollow Everything," that autopiloted your browser to click through all the laborious steps needed to unfollow all the accounts you were subscribed to, and permanently banned Unfollow Everywhere's developer, Louis Barclay:

https://slate.com/technology/2021/10/facebook-unfollow-everything-cease-desist.html

Now, Zuckerman is developing "Unfollow Everything 2.0," an even richer version of Barclay's tool.

This rich record of legal bullying gives Zuckerman and his lawyers at Knight something important: "standing" – the right to bring a case. They argue that a browser automation tool that helps you control your feeds is covered by CDA(c)(2)(b), and that Facebook can't legally threaten the developer of such a tool with liability for violating the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, or the other legal weapons it wields against this kind of "adversarial interoperability."

Writing for Wired, Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University speaks to a variety of experts – including my EFF colleague Sophia Cope – who broadly endorse the very clever legal tactic Zuckerman and Knight are bringing to the court.

I'm very excited about this myself. "Adversarial interop" – modding a product or service without permission from its maker – is hugely important to disenshittifying the internet and forestalling future attempts to reenshittify it. From third-party ink cartridges to compatible replacement parts for mobile devices to alternative clients and firmware to ad- and tracker-blockers, adversarial interop is how internet users defend themselves against unilateral changes to services and products they rely on:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Now, all that said, a court victory here won't necessarily mean that Facebook can't block interoperability tools. Facebook still has the unilateral right to terminate its users' accounts. They could kick off Zuckerman. They could kick off his lawyers from the Knight Institute. They could permanently ban any user who uses Unfollow Everything 2.0.

Obviously, that kind of nuclear option could prove very unpopular for a company that is the very definition of "too big to care." But Unfollow Everything 2.0 and the lawsuit don't exist in a vacuum. The fight against Big Tech has a lot of tactical diversity: EU regulations, antitrust investigations, state laws, tinkerers and toolsmiths like Zuckerman, and impact litigation lawyers coming up with cool legal theories.

Together, they represent a multi-front war on the very idea that four billion people should have their digital lives controlled by an unaccountable billionaire man-child whose major technological achievement was making a website where he and his creepy friends could nonconsensually rate the fuckability of their fellow Harvard undergrads.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/02/kaiju-v-kaiju/#cda-230-c-2-b

Image: D-Kuru (modified): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:MSI_Bravo_17_(0017FK-007)-USB-C_port_large_PNr%C2%B00761.jpg

Minette Lontsie (modified): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Facebook_Headquarters.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[kairiscorner]

ok but like it's canon in the comics that miguel's not as good at tech compared to biology. so imagine...

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

lyla was apparently resetting herself and would be unresponsive for a few hours, but it seemed he had no choice. coming from the future, he has little clue about how technology in the 20th century was supposed to work, but luckily, you were a natural at using 20th century technology! unluckily, miguel was too prideful to ask you for any help. the rest of the society had decided to resort to cell phones to contact each other for the time being, though it wasn't as great as the watches, it was at least useful for something. however, only one person remained to be clueless about these cell phones, and ironically, it's the guy from the future, miguel o'hara himself.

he had asked jess and peter b how to use a phone, but they, unsurprisingly, only know how to use it when someone calls--they don't even know how to facetime properly. he asked ben to help him since he classified as 'part of the youth', but his explanation was full of onomatopoeias and edgy narrating that miguel was totally lost. you approached miguel as he was practically snarling at his phone's screen, not being used to calling an AI assistant who wasn't lyla to fetch him information on the anomalies you all were monitoring, but the only search results siri gave him were the definition of anomaly and earth-1218 search results from fan pages.

"hey mig." you greeted him as miguel sighed and tried to compose himself. "how are you holding up?" you asked him, knowing full well he was losing his mind over the countless notifications he was getting from his chats from peter b that were all just pictures of mayday and his keyboard mashing over how cute his daughter was. "i'm barely holding on, to be honest." he said as he forcefully scrolled on the screen, which ended up in it being scuffed and scratched on by his talons.

"puta." he muttered as he looked at the now scratched screen. you took the phone from his hands and asked him what he was going to do, with him explaining he just wanted to dismiss the incessant notifications from peter b. you set his phone on a 'do not disturb' mode and shut off his notifications from peter b in an instant. "that's all you have to do, really." you explained as you handed the phone back to him, with his eyes following yours as you smiled up at him. "ah, thank you." he said as he took his reading glasses and tried to read a text that came his way. "congratulations, you have won a 100,000 dollars. email this contact to claim your reward... but i didn't do anything?" he remarked aloud, confused. "oh, that's spam. just ignore it, delete i--" he was calling the fucking number.

"hello? yeah, i didn't play any game. you texted me about a prize i didn't win, i think you have the wrong number. ...what do you mean i have to email you? just forward the message to the right individual. ...no, i'm not gonna email you, we're talking right now! look, i don't even want your prize, i make more than six figures a month. ...what do you mean you need my credit card information? hijo de puta, i'm not the guy you're looking for!" miguel screamed into the phone as he spoke to the scammer. you wanted to tell him to drop the call, but seeing him scare the scammer had made you want to watch this unfold. he was screaming curse words in spanish and repeating how he doesn't need any prizes from these hacks.

"on second thought, always call the number." you murmured to him as he angrily put the phone down. "shocking idiots, is the 20th century full of guys who can't double check numbers and force you to email them when you're already talking to them over the phone?" he asked you as you nodded slowly with a slight grin. miguel shook his head as he checked the progress on lyla's update. "17 more hours of this madness." he groaned as he buried his face in his palms. "well, you can always go on... i don't know, tiktok?" "no. we're stuck on earth 1218's internet, i've been warned by peter b it's a scary place i should never visit." "i wonder why..." you muttered as you avoided his gaze and smirked.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold

[obscurecurse]

you guys i need a kimchay catfish au so bad. i don't know wtf my problem is. but for your considerationnnnnn:

Concept A - Kim gets catfished, obviously. Playing off the popular headcanon that Kim is a little out of touch and bad with technology, a catfish just starts sending Kim vague texts like, "it's been a long time. how are you?" Kim thinks it's Chay because he's in his feelings one night so he texts back like, "Chay? Is this you?" and the catfish (who can't believe that worked) replies, "yep it's me!" like Kim just walks right into it. And they talk for awhile and Kim thinks he's making amends, and he's so relieved that Chay is talking to him again, and eventually he runs into Chay and starts talking about something they'd texted about and Chay has no fucking idea what Kim is talking about. The angst. *chefs kiss* .

Concept B - "For a good time, call 000-000-0000 <3" Chay keeps writing WIꓘ's number in bathroom stalls for petty revenge. Kim can change his number easily, and he does. But Chay just asks Porsche to get his new number from Kinn (because Porsche is 100% down to help Chay make Kim squirm.) Kim has no idea who's doing it but his mafia brain gets activated so he texts one stranger back like, "Where did you get this number?" and they tell him the name of the bar. Kim starts casing the places where his number is written, intent on confronting this person. Every bar he goes to he crosses his number out with sharpie. But Chay just writes it again below. Eventually Kim writes, "WE NEED TO TALK. YOU HAVE MY NUMBER." Or maybe Kim catches Chay in the middle of rewriting it??? And now they are arguing in some gross bathroom at a bar. It's not the most romantic place to confess his love, but he's so overwhelmed that Chay is talking to him again. .

Concept C - Kim gets catfished but Chay's college roomate is the catfish, pretending to be Chay. Chay says he's over Kim but this roommate is tired of watching Chay mope around and avoid everyone who tries to flirt with him at parties. At the very least, they need to talk things out so Chay can move on... The roommate does not expect Kim to be so eager to reconcile. (The way Chay talked about him, the roommate thought he would be cold and disinterested.) Kim wants to meet so they can talk, and now this person will have to explain to an actual famous pop idol that they are not, in fact, Chay. The roommate thinks it's better to explain in person and say sorry so they agree to meet. Chay sees his roommate with Kim on campus and loses his cool. Kim is relieved Chay is there after all. Chaos ensues. Chay figures it out first he's like, "What the fuck is your problem?" And then he's mad at Kim, he's like "Why would I ever in a million years ask you to meet me at the tech center at a college library!? I thought you were a criminal mastermind! Do you even have a gun on you? What if it was someone trying to take you as a hostage?" (The roommate is quickly learning A LOT of new information about Chay's relationship with Kim.)

[invadertem]

(CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT) ROGUE ZIM

Status: Unknown; presumably alive

Personal Information:

- Pak Model: Defective Superior Model-1

- Gender/Sex: Male (Type B)

- Pronouns: He/Him

- Age: 25 Earth/Irken years

- Sexuality: Omni (Preference: Male)

- Rank: Rogue Super Weapon

- Rogue Code Name: Poltergeist

Physical Description:

- Appearance: Magenta Eyes/Pak

- Height: 5'5"

- Notable Features: Extremely scarred but bandaged arms, small face scar, Pink hoodie

Skills and Enhancements:

- Natural Ability: His pak can release high-voltage shocks capable of killing living beings and destroying technology. Connection to tech results in corruption.

- Pak Weapons: Equipped with powerful weapons designed by Zim himself.

- Emotion-Induced Abilities: Strong emotions can tear holes in time and space, creating small Florpus-like portals.

- Emotional Range: His defect allows him to experience a wide range of emotions.

- Independent Pak: His pak sometimes acts independently from Zim.

- Enhanced Senses: Superior hearing, scent, and sight.

- Training: Proficient in war strategies, combat, anatomy, mechanics, and other fields, driven by Miyuki to be the best.

- Speed and Strength: Quick reflexes allowing for rapid movement. Above-average strength and high pain tolerance.

- Natural Weapons: Claws and teeth sharpened to knife-like sharpness.

Fun Facts:

- Bio-Weapon Origin: The first successful Irken Empire Bio-weapon.

- Unique Scent: Emits a sweet scent with underlying hints of blood and metal.

- Powerhouse: Considered the strongest Irken to ever exist.

- Purring Smeet: Teased for his sleepy nature and purring as a smeet.

- Culinary Preferences: Enjoys sweet foods, while regular food makes him feel sick.

- Musical Inclination: Surprisingly, likes singing songs to himself.

- Personality: Aggressive and cold in nature.

- Troop Membership: Part of Troop 9 during training.

- Infamous Record: Personally responsible for the documented deaths of 10,000 individuals using only his pak.

Notable Events (in chronological order):

1. Caused five years of darkness on Irk upon creation due to a high-voltage electricity shock.

2. Experimented on by Miyuki as a child.

3. Excelled academically, ranking at the top of his classes.

4. Had a height stunter installed by Miyuki for easier control but later removed.

5. Spark from his pak caused four more years of darkness on Irk during a sparring incident.

6. Invented numerous bio-weapons and mass destruction devices.

7. "Accidentally" killed Miyuki and Spork with a bio-weapon.

8. Played a key role in winning the battle of Meekrob during Mission of Impending Doom One.

9. Banished from the Irken Empire, reappearing during Mission of Impending Doom Two.

10. Banished once more, this time to Earth.

11. Involved in the Florpus Incident.

12. Went Rogue, leaving Earth for four years with no trace of his whereabouts.

13. Destroyed multiple Empire Watch Bases (C1, C2, C3, D5, D6, G9, G11, G18, Z1), with more to be documented.

This document provides official information regarding Defective Superior Model-1, also known as Poltergeist, and his extensive history, abilities, and notable events within the Irken Empire. He is extremely dangerous and is to be reported upon sighting.

!!!WARNING: FILE IS HIGHLY SUBJECT TO CHANGE!!!

[aquilathefighter]

Not gonna reblog the post because tumblr has a rabid hatred against anything using the word AI but captchas do have use beyond providing training data to bots as an important gate to prevent botting/DDOS attacks. Moreover, the data from original captchas has been used in a constructive way; one example is optical character recognition (OCR). When you scan something in and the computer is able to pull out the text in a computer (and person!) readable format, that's OCR. One use of OCR is to allow people who use screen readers to access printed text, which is a vital accessibility tool in a time where much information is printed that may not be directly accessible in other formats like audio or Braille.

I would caution away from conspiratorial thought regarding large tech firms for this reason, as there are valid reasons to a. generate this data and b. to continue to use some sort of captcha technology (although it is not a perfect solitary security system). I understand they are doing things none of us particularly appreciate, but sometimes they do produce things that are of use to the rest of the world.

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 7-8

Around this point I actually read back and asked myself, "Is this moving too fast?" Then I remember the speed at which a Leverage episode actually moves and the kind of beating Harry usually picks up each book, and went, "Nah."

AO3 Link

Buy me a Ko-fi?

Remember: Tumblr has no algorithm. Reblogs give me life.

1-2 + 3-4 + 5-6 + 7-8 + 9-10-11 + 12-13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21-22 + 23-24-25 + 26-27-28 + 29-30 + 31-32-33 + 34-35-36 + 37-38 + 39-40-41-42

SEVEN

The divide between magic and technology is a known quantity. Every wizard knows to stay away from most mechanical things; the more complex they are, the more likely they were to break. The more powerful the wizard, the quicker it was gonna happen. Even knowing these things, I hadn't realized how deep that boundary ran until I tried to find out anything about my prospective employers.

If it had been a magical entity, a spell, an artifact, between Bob and I we could have probably found out at least the basics, but Bob couldn't find out anything about the Leverage people. I wasn't crazy enough to try and scry something in Boston, never mind the range.

All I could tell was that Leverage was, apparently, a purely mundane affair. Based in Boston as they were I didn't doubt they'd run themselves into something other that the average human, but as the afternoon dragged on I began to realize I was going to have more luck finding out what, rather than getting any sort of information on whatever Deveraux and Ford actually had going on.

A smart man would have said no on principle. What little I could find out told me that if things had gotten so bad that an entirely non-magical outfit like Leverage had come looking for a wizard, then they were bad enough that walking away unscathed to enjoy that absurdly large paycheck was not guaranteed. Not even 50/50 odds.

But 50/50 was still better than no odds at all.

And I hadn't lied when I told Deveraux that I'm a curious man.

She'd written a number on the back of the card. Not a hotel, so they could have been anywhere. I eyed it while I called Butters and asked him to look after Mister while I was away. Then I called it.

"Harry." Deveraux actually sounded happy to hear me; it was refreshing.

"Train. The older the better," I told her. "That applies to any tech you want near me, too. Mouse comes with me."

"Yes, of course."

"The daily fee is… good." My voice cracked a bit despite my best attempt at sounding like it was not a holy-heck amount of money. I cleared it. "It's good. But I can't go longer than a week. One week and I'm coming back home, even if your problem's not solved."

"That's fine."

"And I need a basement."

"A b… A basement?"

"It's contained in case something bad happens."

"Ah." The fact she didn't ask questions told me containment was a common concern in both her line of work and mine. "Anything else?"

"I can't think of anything off the top of my head. I'm sure something will come up." Something did almost immediately. "A full briefing as soon as I'm there. No secrets, no lies. If I find out you've lied to me, I'll leave."

"We'll tell you as much as we know," she assured me, and I found myself believing her. "Welcome to the team, Harry."

It felt weird to be welcomed, to be made to feel as if I were part of a team that actually wanted me there. "When do you think you'll have everything ready?"

There was laughter in her tone. "When do you think you'll be packed?"

Three hours later I was at Union Station, being escorted off the oldest VW minibus in existence and onto a rail car that apparently I had all to myself, like something out of an Agatha Christie book. I'd packed Bob, my tools, a quick-spell kit, any books I thought might help, and a change of clothes. Mouse looked mournfully at me as the train began to move, and I couldn't blame him; it felt as if I were leaving a piece of myself behind.

I knew Chicago. It was home. I knew the people, the streets. I knew its seasons, its weather. I knew the hangouts of most of the dangerous creatures in it, both human and inhuman. I knew every layer of it, every mood, every current.

I knew very little about Boston except that it was a supernatural melting pot. Most creatures that crossed from the Old World or from Other Places and didn't come through the Nevernever landed in Boston; many stayed there, made lives there. There were inhuman families that were generations old, living side by side with the descendants of human immigrants. The divide between mortal and supernatural was as thin as my willpower in Boston.

Look, Deveraux had handed me a really big number.

The train never stopped. That struck me as weird, but then I'd never traveled first class on a train before, so I had no bar for normal. I tried to sleep, but the novelty of everything wore off a couple of hours into the trip, and panic began to settle in. What the hell was I doing? I was Chicago's wizard, not Boston's!

Well, it was done. The AC broke about halfway through the trip, but with the windows open I never even noticed. I got my books out and read, trying to give myself a crash course on the magical scene in Boston, so to speak. Mouse took over one of the windows and seemed to have forgiven me, head thrust out into the wind of our passage, jowls flapping and the plume of his tail wagging sedately. He scared the crap out of the one person I did see, a young man who brought me breakfast and lunch, somehow still warm.

The sun had just set when the train pulled into the Back Bay. I could feel the air buzzing all around me with an imperceptible, invisible charge, the ambient energy of hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of supernatural creatures crackling against my senses. I felt both supercharged and itchy, and Mouse shook himself furiously when we finally made it off the rail car.

There was a man waiting for me on the concourse. He was tremendously solid, the sort of build I used to wish for when I was young, heavy muscle under a worn leather jacket, faded blue jeans and comfortable curb-stomper boots. He had long, very fine brown hair and oddly guileless blue eyes. He had stubble matching mine and he straightened up from his lazy slouch with the ease of someone perfectly at peace with the world around him.

I couldn't see the bulge of a gun anywhere, but I was pretty sure this was Leverage's heavy hitter.

Then he grinned at me, and his whole face lit up, and I thought maybe I was wrong. "Dresden?"

"That's me," I admitted.

He offered his hand without hesitation. "Eliot Spencer. Eliot's fine. Sorry to drag you so far from home."

This man was a walking contradiction. His hands told me I was right. His attitude told me I was wrong. He was the nicest, friendliest man with violence as his main occupation that I'd ever met up to that point in my life. He meant every word of his apology. He was sizing me up for threats.

Belatedly, I realized that Boston was literally supercharging me. My senses, both magical and normal, were trying to run away with me. I had nothing else at the moment; I clung to the hand Eliot Spencer offered, to the strength in it. "Oh, you didn't, not really. Too curious for my own good. Give me a second, would you?"

"You ok, man?"

"Just a little… drunk on the night air," I said, knowing how that had to sound to him.

I was not expecting the change that went over him. It was seamless, instantaneous. One moment Eliot Spencer was welcoming me to his home like a ray of sunshine; the next he was all deadly intent, a sort of quiet, intangible menace radiating from him like the darkest light. "A problem?" he asked mildly.

It told me two things; one, that I was right after all and two, that whatever had brought me to Boston was big enough to have this calm, steady man on a hair-trigger. "No, it's…. Boston's busy. Boston's real busy when it comes to magic. It hangs in the air, makes it thick, and it's giving me a head rush."

"Chicago's not like that?"

"No. The Lake grounds it. Water's good for that."

"I could take you by the Charles if it would help - hey!" And just like that the ray of sunshine was back when Mouse came trotting back from wherever he'd gone to take care of his business. Eliot dropped down to a crouch. "Who's this, Mouse, I think?"

"Yeah. Just watch out, he's not always -" Mouse, tail a blur, charged the Leverage man with a delighted huff and proceeded to lick anything Eliot didn't vigilantly protect, making him chuckle. Well. That was new. And good news for me. "Friendly. He was also a lot smaller when he was a puppy."

Eliot straightened up, rubbing Mouse's head with rough affection. My dog looked blissful, tongue lolling to one side. "Bait-and-switched you, huh."

"It might've been, if he'd given me any choice in the matter."

"He's big for a Tibetan Mastiff," Eliot pointed out. "Wrong color, too."

"He's not. He's a Tibetan Temple Mastiff."

Again that brief pause. Eliot looked down at Mouse. Mouse looked up at him.

The Leverage man grinned again and rubbed Mouse's ears. "Eh, he looks dog enough for me. Anyway. If you're feeling better, let's get you settled. I rented a van."

"Cars get temperamental with me around."

"Dresden, if you can break down a u-Haul, I'll believe you're a wizard no further questions. Where's your luggage?"

EIGHT

Apparently the Leverage people weren't unfamiliar with what happened when you put magic too close to tech. I was put up in their 'temporary' quarters, a small house a lick away from their actual place of business, a loft over a bar by the incredibly Irish name of John McRory's Place.

The house was nice. It had a fenced yard that Mouse promptly claimed as his own and a finished basement that I promptly claimed as my own. The bedroom looked suspiciously like someone had ordered it directly from a catalog, sheets and all. The only other rooms that were accessible were one bathroom and the living room, which had been set up as a meeting area of sorts. The kitchen was empty. The other rooms were full of crates.

There was dinner from the pub waiting for me that night, and a phone in a manila envelope. I offered to share my beer with Eliot; the phone died with a sad little squawk before we finished it.

"That's gonna make things hard," he admitted wryly, examining the dead screen of the phone. "I take it a bluetooth's out of the question?"

"The more parts to it, the quicker it goes."

I saw him get very thoughtful. "What about size? The bigger it is?"

"How big are we talking about?" I asked mildly, sensing a chance to finally get some information as to what had brought me to Boston.

"TV screen," Eliot answered without hesitation, then spread his arms. "Yay big."

"What were you doing at the time?"

"Trying to get a composite from a bunch of blurry pictures."

"What happened?"

"It cracked." He grinned wryly. "Top to bottom. We took that thing out to the recycling in two halves." His jovial mood faded. "I don't like the look on your face right now, Dresden."

"You shouldn't." I was trying to think of creatures that could shatter a screen like that, with just their image, without actually being there. It was a short list; it was also a very scary list. "It wasn't anything else, it had to be the picture?"

"The man who works our tech is the best, hands-down. His equipment doesn't blow up like that without a good reason," Eliot said calmly, then put his hands up. "Wait, no, I'm supposed to let you rest tonight. You're gonna hear all this tomorrow morning anyway."

"I did nothing but sleep on the train ride," I told him. I won't lie, it felt nice to know the Leverage outfit, whatever their business might be, gave enough of a damn to give me the night to myself. Most people who hire me for that kind of money expected 24-7 service, never mind what kind of shape I might be in at the end of the day. "Tell me what you can."

He gave me one of the few measuring looks I've ever gotten that didn't have my harm at heart before he made a decision and tipped his head toward the pub. "Come on."

"Mouse, watch the place." Mouse flopped in front of the door and settled down with a yawn.

The front of the pub was roaring, but we came in from the back. Eliot knocked softly on a door, poked his head in and murmured something to someone in there. I caught a faint whiff of something sweet, almost like licorice - probably a storage room, and a bottle of liquor had broken and been cleaned up. Eliot got his answer; he closed the door and we moved on. He peeked out into the main floor and called out something I couldn't hear over the noise of the crowd before heading to a pair of elevator doors.

I stopped walking. "Uh…"

He paused, turned, and led me to the stairs, grinning. "You know, I don't even think about most of this stuff. Tech's embedded so deep into our lives."

"I just wish for a hot water heater that didn't break in under a week," I told him.

"Yikes."

"Yup."

"Just keep your distance from Hardison's tech," Eliot warned me as he led me into a vast, elegant little loft. The bare brick walls had paintings on them that looked… modern. Expensive. I didn't know enough about art back then to appreciate what they were. A spiral staircase led up to what was probably a bedroom, and behind it was a typical modern kitchen. Most of the open space was taken up by a very modern, very sleek meeting room sort of setup, a wall full of screens and a small curve of desks before it. "He's still sore about those screens."

"Screens? More than one?"

"Yeah, a second one a day after -"

A young woman came flying into the loft. "Where is he? Where's the wizard?"

"Parker, don't -"

She whirled and faced me, and immediately made a face. "Aren't you supposed to have a white bushy beard?"

"Not for another couple hundred years."

I hadn't expected my quip to bring her up short, but it did. She seemed to really think about it, and it gave me a chance to examine her. She was young, wiry, blonde, pretty. She had the same kind of intensity Karrin had, but her focus seemed to change from minute to minute.

"Oh. I didn't think about that. There have to be young wizards to get old wizards."

"Parker." Eliot sighed.

"No robes?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Fancy spell books?"

"I do have one of those."

"Can I see it?"

"Parker, let the man catch his breath." Sophie Deveraux looked cozy and elegant and beautiful in a flowing blue blouse and a shimmering gray skirt. She beamed at me and I felt warm and fuzzy. Look, I'm man enough to admit it, I'm a sucker for a pretty lady, particularly one that doesn't want me dead. "Harry."

"Miss Deveraux."

"Just Sophie, Harry, please. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait?"

"I'm good. I got all my rest in the train ride. Boston's full of energy, and it's making me buzzed, I rather put some of it to work, get it out of my system -"

"Why do you carry a stick?"

I whipped around. Parker had my wand in her hands.

Hell's Bells, I'd never even felt the theft. My wand, and I would have never known she'd gone for it if she hadn't said something.

Something in my face clued Sophie and Eliot that things had gone very badly, very quickly. "Parker!" Sophie cried out.

With all the care of someone handling live explosives, Eliot closed a hand over the 'stick'. "We are trying," he told her, sticking to his calm demeanor like tar, "to make a good impression, Parker."

"Oh, fine. Should I give everything else back?"

I took the quickest stock of my person I'd ever taken in my life. Immediately I found another thing missing that I would have never thought could be taken from me without my notice. How in the hell -!

"Yes!" Sophie told her firmly.

"Well, he didn't have anything interesting anyways," Parker put out her hand with my wallet on it.

And my shield bracelet.

Eliot offered me my wand back, looking sheepish. "Sorry, man."

"I just - how?" Seriously. Never mind the theft, everything was coming back to me, nothing was broken, no one was hurt, I just wanted to know how she'd done it.

"Parker is the best in the world," Sophie said, somehow managing to convey warm pride and icy disapproval all in one. Parker squirmed uncertainly. "She should also bear in mind that as of now you're part of our team, and we don't pickpocket teammates."

Parker held strong under the tone of disapproval longer than I would have. "Sorry," she muttered with ill grace.

"No harm no foul if you teach me how to do it."

She grinned, just a little. "Deal."

"Also, where should I stand so I'm as far away from anything tech-y as possible?"

"Right there." Nathan Ford had arrived, and the mask was off. He still looked vaguely friendly, a little rumpled, somewhat distracted. But there was nothing hiding the ruthless ice in his eyes anymore, or the deep mistrust in the gaze he leveled at me. I was in his world, in his domain, I was his employee. The carrot had done her job, the stick didn't have to mind his manners anymore. "Right there's fine, mister Dresden."

Ford passed everyone by and moved to the kitchen to find himself, apparently, some coffee. "Where's Hardison?"

"He said he wanted to take a few more pictures of the cylinder we found at the museum," Eliot told him. "He's in the storage room."

"What cylinder?" Something was bugging me. It wasn't big, at least not big enough to pin it down, but it was there, nagging at the back of my mind like a toothache after too much sugar.

"There was an issue at the Isabella Gardner Museum," Sophie told me. "Someone tampered with the fire suppression system. They attached some kind of homemade cylinder to the system and it started pumping something out in the air, some sort of perfume." She shrugged lightly. "We don't know why, there was no need for it."

"Perfume?"

"Yes. Fernflower."

I was running the next moment, going on a guess and a prayer. The guess was that the closed door was the storage room. The prayer was that I wouldn't be too late.

The moment I hit the bottom floor a faint reek of sweet, rotten candy and burning flowers made me reel back, coughing, my lungs burning. I could definitely smell the fernflower; worse, I could also smell night's breath. This was some deep, deep magic. Deep and old. Someone had cooked up a Burning Witchwell, and Leverage had blundered right into it. Only luck had kept any of them from being magically inclined, but that luck had run out with the fernflower.

Eliot was right behind me, and he threw a hand over his face. He snatched a bunch of cloth napkins from a nearby shelf and shoved them at me. "What is that?!"

I ran on and shoved the door open to the storage room. There was a man kneeling on the floor before a table, wheezing. The fernflower fumes burned my eyes and I actually heard my skin hiss on contact with the night's breath, but I was running on Boston air. I was so charged up I barely registered any pain.

"Venti, ventum!" I shouted. Wind poured into the storage room. Everything went flying off the shelves. I felt my magic careen out of control, as supercharged as I was, and fought to bring it back under control. I didn't want to wreck the room, I just wanted to get the man to safety, away from the fumes.

"Hardison!" Eliot had already dashed past me, catching the man. He was lanky, lean, deceptively muscled, possibly an inch or so taller than me. His skin was very dark and it had gone blotchy where the night's breath had had time to settle down and sink in. He slurred something unintelligible and squinted intently at me; I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was seeing.

"Dresden?!" Eliot asked, spitting his own hair out of his mouth.

"Go, get him out!"

He didn't question me. I could have danced a happy jig at that show of trust. I backed out of the room; I was one step past the doorway when helpful hands slammed the door shut. "Does the ventilation system here connect to the pub?"

"No, it goes straight out," Ford replied.

"Then just put some…" The borrowed energy from the Boston ambiance ran out. I felt pain creep up over any part of me not covered by fabric. "Put some…"

"Sophie, put some towels at the bottom," Ford's voice was full of calm, focused competency. "Parker, go tell the front of house no one is to come into this room until one of us says otherwise. Eliot." There was a pause. "Dresden, is a hospital going to help either of you?"

"He's fine." Oh, that was Ford's shoulder under my arm, holding me up. When had that happened? "Unless he's got magic, he's just drunk. Sort of."

"And you?"

"I'm a little blistered." I was a little more than blistered, but I had the advantage of knowing the damage wasn't real. "No hospital. A bath."

"Alright. Let's get you and Hardison up to the loft, then."

I wasn't in any shape to argue. I got shoved under a spray of miraculously hot water. Someone peeled my clothes off. At some point I realized I trusted only two people in the loft, and one of them was helping undress me. "Wash your hands," I told Eliot. "Wash the clothes."

"Can we burn them?"

"Don't burn my clothes, I didn't bring any more." I stared at him suspiciously; well, there was only one person I trusted anymore. "Tell Parker to watch my things."

Eliot offered a sound of deeply amused disbelief. Somewhere nearby a man's voice was tunelessly singing what sounded like a church song. "Drunk?"

"Intox… Intec… Sort of. Fernflower gives you magic. See things. Talk to animals. Sorta thing. But it's eph… emph…. It fades quick. You gotta lace it with… other stuff. It It wasn't the weapon, the night's breath was."

"Night's breath?"

"Old plant. Burns up magic. Night's breath was fire. Fernflower was gasoline. 's called a… a Burning Witchwell."

"You aren't breathing right, man."

"Fake. I'll be fine when my…. when my magic comes back. Easy, in this place."

"Fake damage." At that Eliot did look disbelieving. "Hurt's hurt."

"Particularly if you believe in it," I shot back, then put my head up to the spray of hot water. "Oh, that feels good."

I heard Eliot snort in amusement. "Well, enjoy it while you can. Haven't blown up this heater."

"Give me a chance, I just got here."

[myshardauniversity]

Sharda University B Tech in Information Technology

Sharda University, a renowned and distinguished institution, provides a B Tech in Information Technology course that is designed to embolden aspiring tech professionals. The curriculum of the course lays out an advanced path in key areas of IT, including computing languages, database management, network systems, and application development.

[cfiesler]

limitations of ChatGPT

By not you’ve probably been hearing that ChatGPT is going to destroy education because it can, e.g., write an essay in five seconds. Here are two potential limitations of the technology.

First, here is the start of an essay that the system wrote for an actual assignment in my tech ethics class:

The overall essay was... not bad. It was probably like B work for an undergrad. But also, here is the list of references at the end:

Good looking references. Unfortunately none of them exist. Real people, real journals, completely fabricated articles. This is just one example of how ChatGPT can provide straight up incorrect information.

Also, OpenAI made a detector for GPT-2. I put a number of ChatGPT-generated essays into it and they all came up as fake with 99.95% confidence.

I also put 5 real student essays through it and they all came out “real” with an even higher confidence.

OpenAI’s terms of use explicitly prohibit passing off AI-generated text as human-generated. I highly suspect that in the near future there will be even more explicit ways of identifying ChatGPT-generated text.

That said, when it comes to classwork and cheating, I think that educators will need to learn to focus more on learning than on evaluation of learning, and to adapt to the use of this technology as a tool. 

[Correction: I edited this post to correct that OpenAI made the GPT-2 detector! The demo is just hosted on HuggingFace.]

[danielimperatrice]

Nest Labs Project Screening Process and Multi-Weighted Scoring Models

1. Identifying Potential Projects

Nest Labs, a subsidiary of Google, regularly faces project selection decisions, especially around smart home innovations. Some possible projects might include:

Developing a new smart doorbell camera with improved AI features.

Expanding into new markets in developing countries.

Improving energy efficiency for their popular smart thermostat by integrating more AI capabilities.

2. Project Screening Process at Nest Labs

Like most tech companies, Nest Labs uses a structured approach to select projects:

a. Defining Evaluation Criteria:

Nest Labs would establish a set of criteria to assess each project. For example:

Strategic Alignment: How well does the project align with Google’s broader goal of AI-driven home automation?

Customer Demand: Does the market research show a demand for the new feature or product?

Return on Investment (ROI): How profitable is the project compared to its cost?

Feasibility: Does the company have the necessary technical resources?

Time to Market: How long will it take to launch the new product?

b. Collecting Information:

Sales/Marketing Team: Would provide data on customer preferences and market demand.

Finance Department: Would evaluate the cost and potential ROI of each project.

Engineering Team: Would assess whether the required technology and resources are available.

3. Multi-Weighted Scoring Model

Nest Labs likely uses a Multi-Weighted Scoring Model to compare and prioritize projects. Here’s how the model might work:

a. Assign Weights to Criteria:

Let’s say Nest Labs decides to prioritize the following factors:

Strategic Alignment: 30%

Customer Demand: 25%

ROI: 20%

Feasibility: 15%

Time to Market: 10%

b. Scoring Projects:

Each project is rated on a scale of 1 to 5 for each criterion. For example:

Smart Doorbell Camera:

Strategic Alignment: 5

Customer Demand: 4

ROI: 4

Feasibility: 3

Time to Market: 4

Improving Thermostat AI:

Strategic Alignment: 4

Customer Demand: 5

ROI: 3

Feasibility: 4

Time to Market: 5

c. Calculate Weighted Scores:

Smart Doorbell Camera:

Strategic Alignment: 5 × 30% = 1.5

Customer Demand: 4 × 25% = 1.0

ROI: 4 × 20% = 0.8

Feasibility: 3 × 15% = 0.45

Time to Market: 4 × 10% = 0.4

Total Score: 4.15

Improving Thermostat AI:

Strategic Alignment: 4 × 30% = 1.2

Customer Demand: 5 × 25% = 1.25

ROI: 3 × 20% = 0.6

Feasibility: 4 × 15% = 0.6

Time to Market: 5 × 10% = 0.5

Total Score: 4.15

4. Role of the Team

CEO and Executive Team: Make the final decision based on strategic alignment.

Finance Team: Evaluate cost and profitability.

Engineering Team: Assess feasibility and time-to-market.

Sales and Marketing Team: Provide input on market trends and customer demand.

5. Conclusion

By using the Multi-Weighted Scoring Model, Nest Labs can objectively compare projects based on criteria that align with their strategic goals. In this case, both projects score the same (4.15), so the decision may come down to external factors like available resources or risk.