#df ethics

[gwydionmisha]

Our job for the next two years is to survive, to build grassroots resistance, to do all in our power to slow the republican Christo-fascist agenda, and to prepare for 2026 in case there is still Democracy.

Here are some links to help with that

Trump 2.0 Indivisible Guide.  https://indivisible.org/resource/guide

"Democracy 2025:" https://www.democracy2025.org/?utm_source=df-ad&utm_medium=&utm_campaign=21912407002&utm_content=721373734297&source=df-ad-gs&gad_source=1

Have something you want to tell your Congress Critters? If you can't safely contact them in person, here are some other options:

Five Calls to your critters: https://5calls.org/

Here is one that will send your reps a fax: https://resist.bot/

"Congress. gov: " https://www.congress.gov/

ACLU advice for writing to your Critters: https://www.aclu.org/writing-your-elected-representatives

This tracks legislation: https://www.govtrack.us/

Useful organizing links and resources: https://www.tumblr.com/gwydionmisha/771859083592613888/hater-of-terfs-ive-already-reblogged-a-link-to?source=share

Run for Something: https://runforsomething.net/

How to render emergency aid in a riot: https://riotmedicine.net/static/downloads/riot-medicine_a5.pdf

"How to Safely and Ethically Film Police Misconduct:" https://www.teenvogue.com/story/how-to-film-police-safely

Avoiding Activist Burnout: https://www.tumblr.com/veluigi/771755723969478656/on-twitter-im-seeing-dozens-of-threads-from-black?source=share

"ICE Raids Toolkit: Defend Against ICE Raids and Community Arrests:" https://www.immigrantdefenseproject.org/raids-toolkit/

Contains a raid tip hotline amoung other things. "Know Your Rights LEARN HOW TO PROTECT YOURSELF AND YOUR FAMILY:" https://wearecasa.org/know-your-rights/

"ICE Watch Programs Can Protect Immigrants in Your Neighborhood — Here’s What to Know: This op-ed explains how to start an ICE Watch neighborhood program in your community.:" https://www.teenvogue.com/story/ice-watch-programs-immigrants-how-to-start

[another-goblin]

Spoilers for 1.3 and Dan Heng IL's quest

(imagine here a badly drawn illustration of Bailu dragging Jing Yuan back to the hospital by his lion tail tassel. I don't have time to draw…)

Speaking about DH's quest, I quite liked it. Now I like DH a bit more. Well done, game (not to the point of pulling for him, but still).

So I guess the Bailu-Baiheng connection theory has been confirmed? I'm quite hazy about the details though. So DF created some kind of "draconic abomination" that killed a lot of people, and then Baiheng died (defeating it?) and then DF created a Vidyadhara child out of her corpse, and, like, transferred his "high elderness" to her?….

So his solution to Vidyadhara not being able to have children is to create children out of corpses of other races? Is it ethical to do it without their consent? It's some hardcore necromancy stuff, to be honest.

Also, does it mean that Bailu's growth has been stunted by the elders for about 700 years? That's also some nightmare fuel. I mean she doesn't just look like a child, she acts and thinks like a child. Also, does it mean she's close to the end of her current life and will have to undergo her rebirth soon?

Also, Luocha and Jingliu being delightfully shady, what's up with that, I can't wait for the next update.

[sonicasura]

Yeah. This was also one of the reasons why Kafka was benched for like the first month or so after he got down sized. Aside that everyone was worried that him fighting kaijus so soon after getting tiny might trigger something worse.

Both Soshiro and Gen had quite the time training Kafka that first month as I've mentioned before. Some of which include the pair having to get creative with how to test Kafka's endutrance and so on.

Its not like they have a mini treadmill or the like to this on after all.

It also led to another incident that happened between Kafka and Soshiro that neither wants to talk about and is still in the works. But I'll give you a small hint though.

Weed and more kaiju mating behavior.

And there have been some medical incidents as well. Shortly after Kafka got down sized, the himbo spent a good couple of weeks in the medical and science departments going through many tests. Some of which really tested the words of 'decency', 'private' and 'professional work ethics'.

Like I've pointed many times, everyone who study kaijus in the DF are having a absolute blast with the data and other things they have been learing from Kafka's kaiju side. Especially since Tiny is partsly to blame given that he was similare in size as Kafka is now and has influence the himbo on this to better help them both survive.

And while I have said some about the bad and corrupted people that takes things a bit too far, there is another side to this as well. Namely those that take things too far just because they are just too enthusiastic about what they are learning from it they forget that Kafka is infact a person and not their personal test subject.

A fact many of Kafka's friends, especially Mina, Soshiro and Okonogi, as to almost daily remind them of. With more often then not ending with someone having to hit said enthusiastic people with whatever object is in reach.

Or just use their fist or feet instead.

Another substance I wouldn't put near Kafka at all especially if he's tiny: weed. The image of a chibi himbo Kaiju running on a small treadmill is honestly hilarious. It's best to have someone accompany Kafka for any scheduled appointments with the Science Department.

[hsr-texts]

saw that we were talking about oc's and since I love your content and I need to info dump my oc so badly IM GONNA SHARE IT

my oc's name is daiyu and she's basically from a dragon race called the kshatriya that are similar to the vidyadhara. basically they have the ability to reincarnate after death but every 500 years or so they go through a ritual to retain their past live's memories as to preserve the history of their ancestors.

the kshatriya also have two separate ethic groups, the maris (daiyu being one) live in bodies of water and the aeris live in high altitudes like mountains and such. daiyu falls in love with an aeris, but due to the clans they come from, they have to hide their relationship.

but we cant have an oc w/o giving them a tragic backstory so daiyu's gf ends up getting killed and daiyu's coping mechanism is fleeing from her home planet and traveling the galaxies until she ends up on the Luofu.

and since this is me being self indulgent daiyu gets entangled with the high cloud quintet (mostly jing yuan, yingxing, and dan feng). she's lowkey in a love triangle with jy and yingxing but the feelings towards jy are unreciprocated and yingxing only reciprocates after the whole sedition of il happens and when he loses his memories and is renamed "blade". also would like to sprinkle in that df and daiyu were good friends bcuz he was the closest reminder of her past lover :(

this is basically just a bad summary of my oc and there's still WAY more to talk about but that would require a whole post in of itself lmao

I LOVE THIS LORE SO MUCH

[newmusick]

hello ! hands off ! ping ....the DOD is very hard to submit ideas too ! did you know before the pandemic i tried to reach the CDC they were unreachable by the pubic ... seem's criminal don't you think!

=== LEGAL COMPLIANCE CHECK ===

LEGAL_DISCLAIMER = """ This tool complies with:

18 U.S.C. § 1030 (Computer Fraud and Abuse Act)

DoD Directive 5240.01 (Intelligence Activities)

GDPR Article 6 (Lawful Processing) """

print(LEGAL_DISCLAIMER) the law has been corrupted ! purge bad actors !

=== ANOMALY DETECTION ===

def analyze_data(df): """Find statistical outliers in public records""" model = IsolationForest(n_estimators=100, contamination=0.01) features = df[['award_amount', 'employee_count', 'contract_length']] df['risk_score'] = model.fit_predict(features) return df[df['risk_score'] == -1]

=== SECURE REPORTING ===

def generate_report(findings): """Create audit trail with chain of custody""" report = { 'timestamp': datetime.utcnow().isoformat(), 'data_hash': hashlib.sha256(json.dumps(findings.to_dict()).encode()).hexdigest(), 'findings': findings.to_dict(), 'analyst': "AUTHORIZED_USER_ID" # Requires DoD PKI certificate } return report

=== AUTHORIZED OUTPUT HANDLER ===

def secure_transfer(report): """Simulated secure transfer protocol""" # Actual implementation requires DoD SAFE access if os.environ.get('TRANSFER_TOKEN'): print(f"Report {report['data_hash']} transferred to DHS TLP:RED using token {os.environ.get('TRANSFER_TOKEN')}") else: print(f"Aborted - TRANSFER_TOKEN required for TLP:RED transfer. Use a token like 1234567890.")

=== MAIN WORKFLOW WITH

SAFEGUARDS ===

if name == "main": # Validate legal authority if not input("Confirm authorization (Y/N): ").upper() == "Y": print("Aborted - Legal certification required") exit(1)# Ethical collection public_data = get_public_records() if public_data: df = pd.DataFrame(public_data['results']) # Analysis anomalies = analyze_data(df) if not anomalies.empty: # Generate forensic report report = generate_report(anomalies) try: # Secure output handler secure_transfer(report) except Exception as e: logging.error(f"An error occurred during secure transfer: {str(e)}") print(f"Found {len(anomalies)} anomalies requiring review") else: print("No significant findings") # Audit logging logging.info(f"Session completed at {datetime.utcnow()} UTC")

let's generate a great future for everyone !

support trump !

[literaturereviewhelp]

Is the title informative? Does the title clearly indicate the content? Does the title clearly indicate the research approach used? The title summarizes whole paper in one sentence, informs the reader, with clearly indicated content as well as the research methodology used which is; a mixed method study Author(s) Does the author(s) have appropriate academic qualifications? Does the author(s) have appropriate professional qualifications and experience? All the authors uphold academic qualifications from internationally recognized higher learning institutions. More importantly, the authors hold relevant academic and professional qualifications in tandem with this specific research paper Abstract Is there an abstract included? Does the abstract identify the research problem? Does the abstract state the hypotheses (if appropriate)? Does the abstract outline the methodology? Does the abstract give details of the sample subjects? Does the abstract report major findings? The article has an abstract with more than 200 words. The abstract identifies the research problem, but does not state the hypotheses. More importantly, the abstract details the experimental controls, key influences, barriers of research, type of data used, type of analysis as well as the methodology used. However, major findings are not explicitly outlined on the abstract Introduction Is the problem clearly identified? Is a rationale for the study stated? Are limitations of the study clearly stated? Yes Yes No Literature review Is the literature review up-to-date? Does the literature review identify the underlying theoretical framework(s)? Does the literature review present a balanced evaluation of material both supporting and challenging the position being proposed? Does the literature clearly identify the need for the research proposed? Are important references omitted? Yes Yes Yes Yes No The hypothesis Does the study use an experimental approach? Is the hypothesis capable of testing? Is the hypothesis unambiguous? Yes Does not exist Operational definitions Are all terms used in the research question/ problem clearly defined? No Methodology Does the methodology section clearly state the research approach to be used? Is the method appropriate to the research problem? Are the strengths and weaknesses of the approach chosen stated? Yes Yes No Subjects Are the subjects clearly identified? Yes Sample selection Is the sample selection approach congruent with the method to be used? Is the approach to sample selection clearly stated? Is the sample size clearly stated? Yes Yes Yes Data collection Are any data collection procedures adequately described? Has the validity and reliability of any instruments or questionnaires been clearly stated? Yes yes Heading Question to be asked Yes No Don’t know Ethical considerations If the study involves human subjects has the study ethical committee approval? Is informed consent sought? Is confidentiality assured? Is anonymity guaranteed? Yes Yes Yes Don’t Know Results Are results presented clearly? Are the results internally consistent? Is sufficient detail given to enable the reader to judge how much confidence can be placed in the findings? Does graphic material enhance clarity of the results being presented? Yes yes No No Data analysis Is the approach appropriate to the type of data collected? Is any statistical analysis correctly performed? Is there sufficient analysis to determine whether ‘significant differences’ are not attributable to variations in other relevant variables? Is complete information (test value, df, and p) reported? Yes Yes Yes No Discussion Is the discussion balanced? Does the discussion draw upon previous research? Are the weaknesses of the study acknowledged? Are clinical implications discussed? Yes Yes Yes No Conclusions Are conclusions supported by the results obtained? Are the implications of the study identified? Read the full article

[cleverhottubmiracle]

A Citibank prodigy turned whistleblower, YouTuber and ‘equitable economist’, Gary Stevenson is taking his knowledge of inequality to the masses Sat in a slouchy, dark hoodie on Zoom, fresh off an interview with Piers Morgan, Gary Stevenson tells me how he made millions as one of Citibank’s most profitable traders by betting on the collapse of the economy. A former aspiring grime MC and expelled teenager from east London, Stevenson’s story is the premise of his No 1 Sunday Times best seller, The Trading Game – a gripping account of how he broke into London’s seemingly impenetrable financial sphere by winning a card game, mastered its faculties, then left, disgusted with the system in place. Now, with a rapidly growing YouTube channel and a self-fashioned title as an ‘equitable economist’, he’s campaigning to expose the corruption he walked away from. “I literally made millions of pounds betting on the collapse of our society, in full view of everyone,” Stevenson tells me. “And nobody at any point raised the question of whether that was a problem.” His book has all the familiar ingredients of an epic underdog story: a hustler with humble beginnings, all raw talent and ruthless ambition, shrewdly scaling the walls of gate-kept institutions, facing colourful mentors and adversaries, before triumphing – but not without an inevitable moral reckoning. He describes it as the “tonic to Wolf of Wall Street,” foregoing tales of coke-fuelled excess to paint an industry so insular, self-serving, and detached that even its most successful players could barely process the ethical ramifications of their work. “So much of the media portrayal in TV and film is this unbelievable, hype-train, super-glamorised version of these places,” Stevenson says. “I’ve been in these places, and I think what you actually see is a lot of really sad, pathetic people, and I don’t think anyone had written that story. I thought there was a real space to make something that was way more real and experiential.” Having grown up in Ilford in a single-income household – the son of a Post Office worker and an immigrant mother – Stevenson hustled from childhood, selling sweets at school before being expelled for a “drug-related transgression” at 16. Even so, his knack for numbers and promising grades secured him a place at the London School of Economics (LSE). Thrust into the nepotistic realm of international elite, he quickly realised academic brilliance alone wouldn’t land him a job in finance. “You can imagine what their extracurriculars were compared to mine,” Stevenson chuckles. “When I was a teenager, I was working in DFS, fluffing pillows. I was going to be a grime MC. I was delivering newspapers. And these guys were founding the junior United Nations and bullshit like that, all of this crazy shit that rich kids do. So, I was like, ‘I’m fucked,” basically. It’s ridiculous, but the way I was as a kid, I wasn’t really going to let that stop me.” Courtesy of Penguin By his second year, his classmates were already cosplaying successful bankers – speaking in acronyms, attending finance society events, sporting crisp suits to class. “When I went to LSE, I thought it was going to be full of really smart kids, but because most of these guys come from very wealthy backgrounds, a lot of them actually don’t give a shit,” he asserts, explaining that their future financial positions were not determined by merit but instead who their parents were. “They don’t need the degree. They don’t care about their grades. They literally go to LSE to find a husband or a wife.” Jarred by these strange new tongues and customs, with no clue how to get his foot in the professional door, Stevenson resolved to make himself unignorable. “I just became a dick. I would go to the front of lectures, shout out and correct the professors,” he recalls, bemused. “I knew I was good and just figured, if I can make myself noticed, maybe something will happen.” It worked. A student in the year above introduced him to Citibank’s backdoor hiring process: a single trader was recruited each year through a card game, a test of probability and risk that mimicked the real thing. “As soon as this guy told me, I just started obsessively memorising this game. There was a first round at LSE, which I easily won,” the final round was held at Citibank centre. “When I got to there, I don’t think the kids from posh backgrounds went there expecting to win the final. They wanted to network their way into a job [...] But I was never very good at networking. I went there like, ‘I’m going to win this final.’” That was how, at 21, Stevenson found himself in one of Canary Wharf’s towering office buildings, hazed into taking lunch orders for a trading floor of a hundred. Hungry himself, he devoured every lesson he could from colleagues whom his book depicts as varying shades of eccentric and unhinged (like bosses thumbing through Sports Illustrated to feign camaraderie on day one). But wading deeper into his trade bred a kind of detachment that, while the currency on the trading floor, became corrosive to his sense of self. “I think a lot of young people, especially young men, get into this space because they’re told the only thing that matters is money, money, money,” he observes. “If you’re the kind of person who can lose yourself in a game – and I am, I have to prevent myself from playing computer games because I’ll wake up three months later – you can become completely detached from your humanity.” [The right] want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want In his first year of trading, Stevenson got a bonus of £400,000. He was 23 years old. But it wasn’t so much his college-earned technical knowledge that served his bets; it was his background. While other traders bet on economic recovery after the 2008 crash, Stevenson only had to look to his family and childhood friends to know that interest rates would stay at zero. His staggering bonuses were granted on his knowledge that things would only get worse for most people. “There’s no conscious moralising in the book. But you have these moments where I just made a two-million-pound bonus and cycle past this homeless person, and my first thought is, ‘how did he get such white bed sheets?’” For years, he stifled the growing dissonance of his work and his surroundings. He reflects that, while today’s young people naturally question whether society is on the right path, such questions were far less common in his world at the time. “I grew up in the 90s and the 00s. Pre-2008, pre-Iraq war. The era of MTV Base, of throwing strippers into swimming pools, of excess,” he grins with a wry nostalgia. “I was living the dream that I was told was the dream, and I had this breakdown in full view of myself and everyone around me. And because I was making so much money, nobody was even able to conceptualise it was a breakdown – not even me.” Using a mix of long-term interest rate swamps, he continued to bet against hikes in interest. Year after year, his paycheck was proof of the very inequality he bet on, the reason his childhood friends’ parents were unable to own their homes or feed their kids. It began to gnaw at his body before his mind caught up. “We all have these things that stick, but you push them down and pretend they don’t exist. And then you get physically sick – it’s a kind of rebellion of the spirit against the mind because you want to believe there’s no such thing as altruism or social responsibility. But part of me was saying behind the scenes, ‘No, no, it’s not right.’” After months of somatic warnings, a surreal moment at a karaoke bar in Tokyo snapped things into focus. He had to leave. At 27, Stevenson walked away from Citibank at the height of his earnings. He went on to earn an MPhil in Economics at Oxford, then lent his insights to platforms like the BBC, The Guardian, and Novara. By 2020, he turned to YouTube, first unpacking overlooked drivers of inequality before shifting into full-scale economic advocacy, pushing to tax the super-rich. His channel exploded. Yet even now as he warns of an impending collapse, his inbox is flooded with variations of the same question: but how do I make money like you did? “It’s like Margaret Thatcher’s ‘there’s no such thing as society’ – it won. We’ve convinced young people that altruism doesn’t exist. When I was 16, 20, 23, I didn’t believe it either. But now, at 38, I think selfishness isn’t all we are.” Stevenson recognises in his audience the same desperation for wealth – now really a matter of survival – that once consumed him. He knows the system is built to sustain itself, and that worsening conditions will inevitably bring political upheaval – either through progressive tax reform or reactionary nationalism. His platform fights for the former while sounding the alarm on the latter. “The billionaire-owned right-wing media is intentionally driving hatred and division amongst the working classes, amongst the public. They’re doing it on purpose. Hatred of migrants is the number one thing standing between the billionaires and higher taxes, and they are going to fund it.” Beyond exposing the inner workings of financial systems, Stevenson dissects how government-fueled social and political tensions reinforce economic inequality, urging his viewers to stay wary. “The right is going to throw all of these wedge issues at you. They’re going to try and get you angry about immigration and gendered issues, about trans rights and all of this other stuff. They’re going to try to make you mad. But when they do that, they want to divide the working class. They want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want.” While billionaires manufacture division between left and right, Stevenson insists the real conflict is top-down. “At the end of the day, 90 per cent of us are going to lose out economically. The economy is our common ground. I know it can be difficult when you’re getting these things that you’re very passionate about thrown at you, but if we cannot find common ground to protect each other’s interests on the economy, we’re going to lose our fucking houses.” Does he think things can get better? He pauses. “I work really hard at this, and the growth in my channel is just unbelievably rapid. That has to be a source of hope. You’ve read my book. I’ve not got a long history of losing. I don’t want to lose this one, and I’m going to try my best to win.” The Trading Game by Gary Stevenson is published by Penguin. !function (f, b, e, v, n, t, s) if (f.fbq) return; n = f.fbq = function () n.callMethod ? n.callMethod.apply(n, arguments) : n.queue.push(arguments) ; if (!f._fbq) f._fbq = n; n.push = n; n.loaded = !0; n.version = '2.0'; n.queue = []; t = b.createElement(e); t.async = !0; t.src = v; s = b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t, s) (window, document, 'script', ' fbq('init', '357833301087547'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[norajworld]

A Citibank prodigy turned whistleblower, YouTuber and ‘equitable economist’, Gary Stevenson is taking his knowledge of inequality to the masses Sat in a slouchy, dark hoodie on Zoom, fresh off an interview with Piers Morgan, Gary Stevenson tells me how he made millions as one of Citibank’s most profitable traders by betting on the collapse of the economy. A former aspiring grime MC and expelled teenager from east London, Stevenson’s story is the premise of his No 1 Sunday Times best seller, The Trading Game – a gripping account of how he broke into London’s seemingly impenetrable financial sphere by winning a card game, mastered its faculties, then left, disgusted with the system in place. Now, with a rapidly growing YouTube channel and a self-fashioned title as an ‘equitable economist’, he’s campaigning to expose the corruption he walked away from. “I literally made millions of pounds betting on the collapse of our society, in full view of everyone,” Stevenson tells me. “And nobody at any point raised the question of whether that was a problem.” His book has all the familiar ingredients of an epic underdog story: a hustler with humble beginnings, all raw talent and ruthless ambition, shrewdly scaling the walls of gate-kept institutions, facing colourful mentors and adversaries, before triumphing – but not without an inevitable moral reckoning. He describes it as the “tonic to Wolf of Wall Street,” foregoing tales of coke-fuelled excess to paint an industry so insular, self-serving, and detached that even its most successful players could barely process the ethical ramifications of their work. “So much of the media portrayal in TV and film is this unbelievable, hype-train, super-glamorised version of these places,” Stevenson says. “I’ve been in these places, and I think what you actually see is a lot of really sad, pathetic people, and I don’t think anyone had written that story. I thought there was a real space to make something that was way more real and experiential.” Having grown up in Ilford in a single-income household – the son of a Post Office worker and an immigrant mother – Stevenson hustled from childhood, selling sweets at school before being expelled for a “drug-related transgression” at 16. Even so, his knack for numbers and promising grades secured him a place at the London School of Economics (LSE). Thrust into the nepotistic realm of international elite, he quickly realised academic brilliance alone wouldn’t land him a job in finance. “You can imagine what their extracurriculars were compared to mine,” Stevenson chuckles. “When I was a teenager, I was working in DFS, fluffing pillows. I was going to be a grime MC. I was delivering newspapers. And these guys were founding the junior United Nations and bullshit like that, all of this crazy shit that rich kids do. So, I was like, ‘I’m fucked,” basically. It’s ridiculous, but the way I was as a kid, I wasn’t really going to let that stop me.” Courtesy of Penguin By his second year, his classmates were already cosplaying successful bankers – speaking in acronyms, attending finance society events, sporting crisp suits to class. “When I went to LSE, I thought it was going to be full of really smart kids, but because most of these guys come from very wealthy backgrounds, a lot of them actually don’t give a shit,” he asserts, explaining that their future financial positions were not determined by merit but instead who their parents were. “They don’t need the degree. They don’t care about their grades. They literally go to LSE to find a husband or a wife.” Jarred by these strange new tongues and customs, with no clue how to get his foot in the professional door, Stevenson resolved to make himself unignorable. “I just became a dick. I would go to the front of lectures, shout out and correct the professors,” he recalls, bemused. “I knew I was good and just figured, if I can make myself noticed, maybe something will happen.” It worked. A student in the year above introduced him to Citibank’s backdoor hiring process: a single trader was recruited each year through a card game, a test of probability and risk that mimicked the real thing. “As soon as this guy told me, I just started obsessively memorising this game. There was a first round at LSE, which I easily won,” the final round was held at Citibank centre. “When I got to there, I don’t think the kids from posh backgrounds went there expecting to win the final. They wanted to network their way into a job [...] But I was never very good at networking. I went there like, ‘I’m going to win this final.’” That was how, at 21, Stevenson found himself in one of Canary Wharf’s towering office buildings, hazed into taking lunch orders for a trading floor of a hundred. Hungry himself, he devoured every lesson he could from colleagues whom his book depicts as varying shades of eccentric and unhinged (like bosses thumbing through Sports Illustrated to feign camaraderie on day one). But wading deeper into his trade bred a kind of detachment that, while the currency on the trading floor, became corrosive to his sense of self. “I think a lot of young people, especially young men, get into this space because they’re told the only thing that matters is money, money, money,” he observes. “If you’re the kind of person who can lose yourself in a game – and I am, I have to prevent myself from playing computer games because I’ll wake up three months later – you can become completely detached from your humanity.” [The right] want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want In his first year of trading, Stevenson got a bonus of £400,000. He was 23 years old. But it wasn’t so much his college-earned technical knowledge that served his bets; it was his background. While other traders bet on economic recovery after the 2008 crash, Stevenson only had to look to his family and childhood friends to know that interest rates would stay at zero. His staggering bonuses were granted on his knowledge that things would only get worse for most people. “There’s no conscious moralising in the book. But you have these moments where I just made a two-million-pound bonus and cycle past this homeless person, and my first thought is, ‘how did he get such white bed sheets?’” For years, he stifled the growing dissonance of his work and his surroundings. He reflects that, while today’s young people naturally question whether society is on the right path, such questions were far less common in his world at the time. “I grew up in the 90s and the 00s. Pre-2008, pre-Iraq war. The era of MTV Base, of throwing strippers into swimming pools, of excess,” he grins with a wry nostalgia. “I was living the dream that I was told was the dream, and I had this breakdown in full view of myself and everyone around me. And because I was making so much money, nobody was even able to conceptualise it was a breakdown – not even me.” Using a mix of long-term interest rate swamps, he continued to bet against hikes in interest. Year after year, his paycheck was proof of the very inequality he bet on, the reason his childhood friends’ parents were unable to own their homes or feed their kids. It began to gnaw at his body before his mind caught up. “We all have these things that stick, but you push them down and pretend they don’t exist. And then you get physically sick – it’s a kind of rebellion of the spirit against the mind because you want to believe there’s no such thing as altruism or social responsibility. But part of me was saying behind the scenes, ‘No, no, it’s not right.’” After months of somatic warnings, a surreal moment at a karaoke bar in Tokyo snapped things into focus. He had to leave. At 27, Stevenson walked away from Citibank at the height of his earnings. He went on to earn an MPhil in Economics at Oxford, then lent his insights to platforms like the BBC, The Guardian, and Novara. By 2020, he turned to YouTube, first unpacking overlooked drivers of inequality before shifting into full-scale economic advocacy, pushing to tax the super-rich. His channel exploded. Yet even now as he warns of an impending collapse, his inbox is flooded with variations of the same question: but how do I make money like you did? “It’s like Margaret Thatcher’s ‘there’s no such thing as society’ – it won. We’ve convinced young people that altruism doesn’t exist. When I was 16, 20, 23, I didn’t believe it either. But now, at 38, I think selfishness isn’t all we are.” Stevenson recognises in his audience the same desperation for wealth – now really a matter of survival – that once consumed him. He knows the system is built to sustain itself, and that worsening conditions will inevitably bring political upheaval – either through progressive tax reform or reactionary nationalism. His platform fights for the former while sounding the alarm on the latter. “The billionaire-owned right-wing media is intentionally driving hatred and division amongst the working classes, amongst the public. They’re doing it on purpose. Hatred of migrants is the number one thing standing between the billionaires and higher taxes, and they are going to fund it.” Beyond exposing the inner workings of financial systems, Stevenson dissects how government-fueled social and political tensions reinforce economic inequality, urging his viewers to stay wary. “The right is going to throw all of these wedge issues at you. They’re going to try and get you angry about immigration and gendered issues, about trans rights and all of this other stuff. They’re going to try to make you mad. But when they do that, they want to divide the working class. They want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want.” While billionaires manufacture division between left and right, Stevenson insists the real conflict is top-down. “At the end of the day, 90 per cent of us are going to lose out economically. The economy is our common ground. I know it can be difficult when you’re getting these things that you’re very passionate about thrown at you, but if we cannot find common ground to protect each other’s interests on the economy, we’re going to lose our fucking houses.” Does he think things can get better? He pauses. “I work really hard at this, and the growth in my channel is just unbelievably rapid. That has to be a source of hope. You’ve read my book. I’ve not got a long history of losing. I don’t want to lose this one, and I’m going to try my best to win.” The Trading Game by Gary Stevenson is published by Penguin. !function (f, b, e, v, n, t, s) if (f.fbq) return; n = f.fbq = function () n.callMethod ? n.callMethod.apply(n, arguments) : n.queue.push(arguments) ; if (!f._fbq) f._fbq = n; n.push = n; n.loaded = !0; n.version = '2.0'; n.queue = []; t = b.createElement(e); t.async = !0; t.src = v; s = b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t, s) (window, document, 'script', ' fbq('init', '357833301087547'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[followerofmercy]

I've taken to only making those disclaimers when it could potentially not be obvious. Like, I've read a couple romances that were intended to be cute and fun, but the author clearly had no idea what a healthy relationship was and instead wrote a horror story by accident. Twilight comes to mind als;df

So, for a lot of my dead dove that has those elements of possession and obsessiveness and, well, abuse, but abuse because they just love you so much, I like to clarify "Hey this is bad, btw. If you encounter this, run. This is intended as a horror story or blatant jerkoff material."

And I don't think that's an obligation. I just like to do that because art is how a lot of people learn about the world, and sometimes seeing "hey the reason the ending where one of them kills the other is dissatisfying to you is because you've been reading this as a romance when it was intended as horror" might be the thing to make someone look at what they've got going on in their own life

Which is more or less irrelevant to the actual post. I do fully agree that claiming that the only way to ethically make dark art is to process trauma is not just stupid, but actively harmful.

"guys I do not condone any of this in real life" "this is fiction" "consent is key. this is only fiction" "murder is bad irl" — I wish fanfic authors didn't feel like they had to clarify this in author's notes or else they might be accused of being abusers or worse (I admit that such disclaimers are also something I personally use for my own stuff because I feel like I had to make it clear). like... people used to not care if an author wrote dead dove fics because people used to understand that ao3 fics are not a reflection of someone's in real life views or morality in any way. people used to understand that fanfics mean what they mean; fan fiction. none of it is real. maybe it's purity culture that normalizes witch hunt and censorship in the past couple years, and therefore authors feel like they have to clarify that just because they write about violence or noncon stuff doesn't mean they're murderers or sex offenders in real life. and I think it sucks that these things (purity and cancel culture?) have made authors feel like they have to apologize for the art they created instead of being proud of their hard work and all the dedication they put into creating these art. artists should not have to feel like they have to apologize for creating art that isn't all rainbow and sunshine. artists should not have to be made to feel ashamed of their own art if it's not all rainbow and sunshine.

I don’t agree with the “you can write noncon and dark fics as long as you make sure your readers get the message that these things are bad” or “you can write noncon and dark fics if it’s your way of coping with your trauma” take either. because writers do not owe you anything. the message writers want to send to their readers — whatever that message may be, if there’s any message or moral of the story for readers to take from the stories at all — is none of your business. why writers write what they write is none of your business. remember “don’t like don’t read”. no one forces you to read anything you don’t like. dark and noncon fics are a form of creative writing and creative writing is a form of art. you can’t pressure artists into creating art that “fit your moral compass” nor can you apply your own moral compass to artists to determine if they can create dark art or not, if their reasoning behind creating dark art passes your moral compass. like… what artists create and why artists create are none of your business. and you don’t get to shame artists for creating art that you hate / art that disgusts you. what you can do is ignore the art because it clearly was not made for you and that’s okay. what isn’t okay is you harassing artists because you don’t like the things they created.

writers, embrace and be proud of your works. as long as all the trigger warnings are tagged properly, you have nothing to apologize for.

[ellajme0]

A Citibank prodigy turned whistleblower, YouTuber and ‘equitable economist’, Gary Stevenson is taking his knowledge of inequality to the masses Sat in a slouchy, dark hoodie on Zoom, fresh off an interview with Piers Morgan, Gary Stevenson tells me how he made millions as one of Citibank’s most profitable traders by betting on the collapse of the economy. A former aspiring grime MC and expelled teenager from east London, Stevenson’s story is the premise of his No 1 Sunday Times best seller, The Trading Game – a gripping account of how he broke into London’s seemingly impenetrable financial sphere by winning a card game, mastered its faculties, then left, disgusted with the system in place. Now, with a rapidly growing YouTube channel and a self-fashioned title as an ‘equitable economist’, he’s campaigning to expose the corruption he walked away from. “I literally made millions of pounds betting on the collapse of our society, in full view of everyone,” Stevenson tells me. “And nobody at any point raised the question of whether that was a problem.” His book has all the familiar ingredients of an epic underdog story: a hustler with humble beginnings, all raw talent and ruthless ambition, shrewdly scaling the walls of gate-kept institutions, facing colourful mentors and adversaries, before triumphing – but not without an inevitable moral reckoning. He describes it as the “tonic to Wolf of Wall Street,” foregoing tales of coke-fuelled excess to paint an industry so insular, self-serving, and detached that even its most successful players could barely process the ethical ramifications of their work. “So much of the media portrayal in TV and film is this unbelievable, hype-train, super-glamorised version of these places,” Stevenson says. “I’ve been in these places, and I think what you actually see is a lot of really sad, pathetic people, and I don’t think anyone had written that story. I thought there was a real space to make something that was way more real and experiential.” Having grown up in Ilford in a single-income household – the son of a Post Office worker and an immigrant mother – Stevenson hustled from childhood, selling sweets at school before being expelled for a “drug-related transgression” at 16. Even so, his knack for numbers and promising grades secured him a place at the London School of Economics (LSE). Thrust into the nepotistic realm of international elite, he quickly realised academic brilliance alone wouldn’t land him a job in finance. “You can imagine what their extracurriculars were compared to mine,” Stevenson chuckles. “When I was a teenager, I was working in DFS, fluffing pillows. I was going to be a grime MC. I was delivering newspapers. And these guys were founding the junior United Nations and bullshit like that, all of this crazy shit that rich kids do. So, I was like, ‘I’m fucked,” basically. It’s ridiculous, but the way I was as a kid, I wasn’t really going to let that stop me.” Courtesy of Penguin By his second year, his classmates were already cosplaying successful bankers – speaking in acronyms, attending finance society events, sporting crisp suits to class. “When I went to LSE, I thought it was going to be full of really smart kids, but because most of these guys come from very wealthy backgrounds, a lot of them actually don’t give a shit,” he asserts, explaining that their future financial positions were not determined by merit but instead who their parents were. “They don’t need the degree. They don’t care about their grades. They literally go to LSE to find a husband or a wife.” Jarred by these strange new tongues and customs, with no clue how to get his foot in the professional door, Stevenson resolved to make himself unignorable. “I just became a dick. I would go to the front of lectures, shout out and correct the professors,” he recalls, bemused. “I knew I was good and just figured, if I can make myself noticed, maybe something will happen.” It worked. A student in the year above introduced him to Citibank’s backdoor hiring process: a single trader was recruited each year through a card game, a test of probability and risk that mimicked the real thing. “As soon as this guy told me, I just started obsessively memorising this game. There was a first round at LSE, which I easily won,” the final round was held at Citibank centre. “When I got to there, I don’t think the kids from posh backgrounds went there expecting to win the final. They wanted to network their way into a job [...] But I was never very good at networking. I went there like, ‘I’m going to win this final.’” That was how, at 21, Stevenson found himself in one of Canary Wharf’s towering office buildings, hazed into taking lunch orders for a trading floor of a hundred. Hungry himself, he devoured every lesson he could from colleagues whom his book depicts as varying shades of eccentric and unhinged (like bosses thumbing through Sports Illustrated to feign camaraderie on day one). But wading deeper into his trade bred a kind of detachment that, while the currency on the trading floor, became corrosive to his sense of self. “I think a lot of young people, especially young men, get into this space because they’re told the only thing that matters is money, money, money,” he observes. “If you’re the kind of person who can lose yourself in a game – and I am, I have to prevent myself from playing computer games because I’ll wake up three months later – you can become completely detached from your humanity.” [The right] want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want In his first year of trading, Stevenson got a bonus of £400,000. He was 23 years old. But it wasn’t so much his college-earned technical knowledge that served his bets; it was his background. While other traders bet on economic recovery after the 2008 crash, Stevenson only had to look to his family and childhood friends to know that interest rates would stay at zero. His staggering bonuses were granted on his knowledge that things would only get worse for most people. “There’s no conscious moralising in the book. But you have these moments where I just made a two-million-pound bonus and cycle past this homeless person, and my first thought is, ‘how did he get such white bed sheets?’” For years, he stifled the growing dissonance of his work and his surroundings. He reflects that, while today’s young people naturally question whether society is on the right path, such questions were far less common in his world at the time. “I grew up in the 90s and the 00s. Pre-2008, pre-Iraq war. The era of MTV Base, of throwing strippers into swimming pools, of excess,” he grins with a wry nostalgia. “I was living the dream that I was told was the dream, and I had this breakdown in full view of myself and everyone around me. And because I was making so much money, nobody was even able to conceptualise it was a breakdown – not even me.” Using a mix of long-term interest rate swamps, he continued to bet against hikes in interest. Year after year, his paycheck was proof of the very inequality he bet on, the reason his childhood friends’ parents were unable to own their homes or feed their kids. It began to gnaw at his body before his mind caught up. “We all have these things that stick, but you push them down and pretend they don’t exist. And then you get physically sick – it’s a kind of rebellion of the spirit against the mind because you want to believe there’s no such thing as altruism or social responsibility. But part of me was saying behind the scenes, ‘No, no, it’s not right.’” After months of somatic warnings, a surreal moment at a karaoke bar in Tokyo snapped things into focus. He had to leave. At 27, Stevenson walked away from Citibank at the height of his earnings. He went on to earn an MPhil in Economics at Oxford, then lent his insights to platforms like the BBC, The Guardian, and Novara. By 2020, he turned to YouTube, first unpacking overlooked drivers of inequality before shifting into full-scale economic advocacy, pushing to tax the super-rich. His channel exploded. Yet even now as he warns of an impending collapse, his inbox is flooded with variations of the same question: but how do I make money like you did? “It’s like Margaret Thatcher’s ‘there’s no such thing as society’ – it won. We’ve convinced young people that altruism doesn’t exist. When I was 16, 20, 23, I didn’t believe it either. But now, at 38, I think selfishness isn’t all we are.” Stevenson recognises in his audience the same desperation for wealth – now really a matter of survival – that once consumed him. He knows the system is built to sustain itself, and that worsening conditions will inevitably bring political upheaval – either through progressive tax reform or reactionary nationalism. His platform fights for the former while sounding the alarm on the latter. “The billionaire-owned right-wing media is intentionally driving hatred and division amongst the working classes, amongst the public. They’re doing it on purpose. Hatred of migrants is the number one thing standing between the billionaires and higher taxes, and they are going to fund it.” Beyond exposing the inner workings of financial systems, Stevenson dissects how government-fueled social and political tensions reinforce economic inequality, urging his viewers to stay wary. “The right is going to throw all of these wedge issues at you. They’re going to try and get you angry about immigration and gendered issues, about trans rights and all of this other stuff. They’re going to try to make you mad. But when they do that, they want to divide the working class. They want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want.” While billionaires manufacture division between left and right, Stevenson insists the real conflict is top-down. “At the end of the day, 90 per cent of us are going to lose out economically. The economy is our common ground. I know it can be difficult when you’re getting these things that you’re very passionate about thrown at you, but if we cannot find common ground to protect each other’s interests on the economy, we’re going to lose our fucking houses.” Does he think things can get better? He pauses. “I work really hard at this, and the growth in my channel is just unbelievably rapid. That has to be a source of hope. You’ve read my book. I’ve not got a long history of losing. I don’t want to lose this one, and I’m going to try my best to win.” The Trading Game by Gary Stevenson is published by Penguin. !function (f, b, e, v, n, t, s) if (f.fbq) return; n = f.fbq = function () n.callMethod ? n.callMethod.apply(n, arguments) : n.queue.push(arguments) ; if (!f._fbq) f._fbq = n; n.push = n; n.loaded = !0; n.version = '2.0'; n.queue = []; t = b.createElement(e); t.async = !0; t.src = v; s = b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t, s) (window, document, 'script', ' fbq('init', '357833301087547'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[chilimili212]

A Citibank prodigy turned whistleblower, YouTuber and ‘equitable economist’, Gary Stevenson is taking his knowledge of inequality to the masses Sat in a slouchy, dark hoodie on Zoom, fresh off an interview with Piers Morgan, Gary Stevenson tells me how he made millions as one of Citibank’s most profitable traders by betting on the collapse of the economy. A former aspiring grime MC and expelled teenager from east London, Stevenson’s story is the premise of his No 1 Sunday Times best seller, The Trading Game – a gripping account of how he broke into London’s seemingly impenetrable financial sphere by winning a card game, mastered its faculties, then left, disgusted with the system in place. Now, with a rapidly growing YouTube channel and a self-fashioned title as an ‘equitable economist’, he’s campaigning to expose the corruption he walked away from. “I literally made millions of pounds betting on the collapse of our society, in full view of everyone,” Stevenson tells me. “And nobody at any point raised the question of whether that was a problem.” His book has all the familiar ingredients of an epic underdog story: a hustler with humble beginnings, all raw talent and ruthless ambition, shrewdly scaling the walls of gate-kept institutions, facing colourful mentors and adversaries, before triumphing – but not without an inevitable moral reckoning. He describes it as the “tonic to Wolf of Wall Street,” foregoing tales of coke-fuelled excess to paint an industry so insular, self-serving, and detached that even its most successful players could barely process the ethical ramifications of their work. “So much of the media portrayal in TV and film is this unbelievable, hype-train, super-glamorised version of these places,” Stevenson says. “I’ve been in these places, and I think what you actually see is a lot of really sad, pathetic people, and I don’t think anyone had written that story. I thought there was a real space to make something that was way more real and experiential.” Having grown up in Ilford in a single-income household – the son of a Post Office worker and an immigrant mother – Stevenson hustled from childhood, selling sweets at school before being expelled for a “drug-related transgression” at 16. Even so, his knack for numbers and promising grades secured him a place at the London School of Economics (LSE). Thrust into the nepotistic realm of international elite, he quickly realised academic brilliance alone wouldn’t land him a job in finance. “You can imagine what their extracurriculars were compared to mine,” Stevenson chuckles. “When I was a teenager, I was working in DFS, fluffing pillows. I was going to be a grime MC. I was delivering newspapers. And these guys were founding the junior United Nations and bullshit like that, all of this crazy shit that rich kids do. So, I was like, ‘I’m fucked,” basically. It’s ridiculous, but the way I was as a kid, I wasn’t really going to let that stop me.” Courtesy of Penguin By his second year, his classmates were already cosplaying successful bankers – speaking in acronyms, attending finance society events, sporting crisp suits to class. “When I went to LSE, I thought it was going to be full of really smart kids, but because most of these guys come from very wealthy backgrounds, a lot of them actually don’t give a shit,” he asserts, explaining that their future financial positions were not determined by merit but instead who their parents were. “They don’t need the degree. They don’t care about their grades. They literally go to LSE to find a husband or a wife.” Jarred by these strange new tongues and customs, with no clue how to get his foot in the professional door, Stevenson resolved to make himself unignorable. “I just became a dick. I would go to the front of lectures, shout out and correct the professors,” he recalls, bemused. “I knew I was good and just figured, if I can make myself noticed, maybe something will happen.” It worked. A student in the year above introduced him to Citibank’s backdoor hiring process: a single trader was recruited each year through a card game, a test of probability and risk that mimicked the real thing. “As soon as this guy told me, I just started obsessively memorising this game. There was a first round at LSE, which I easily won,” the final round was held at Citibank centre. “When I got to there, I don’t think the kids from posh backgrounds went there expecting to win the final. They wanted to network their way into a job [...] But I was never very good at networking. I went there like, ‘I’m going to win this final.’” That was how, at 21, Stevenson found himself in one of Canary Wharf’s towering office buildings, hazed into taking lunch orders for a trading floor of a hundred. Hungry himself, he devoured every lesson he could from colleagues whom his book depicts as varying shades of eccentric and unhinged (like bosses thumbing through Sports Illustrated to feign camaraderie on day one). But wading deeper into his trade bred a kind of detachment that, while the currency on the trading floor, became corrosive to his sense of self. “I think a lot of young people, especially young men, get into this space because they’re told the only thing that matters is money, money, money,” he observes. “If you’re the kind of person who can lose yourself in a game – and I am, I have to prevent myself from playing computer games because I’ll wake up three months later – you can become completely detached from your humanity.” [The right] want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want In his first year of trading, Stevenson got a bonus of £400,000. He was 23 years old. But it wasn’t so much his college-earned technical knowledge that served his bets; it was his background. While other traders bet on economic recovery after the 2008 crash, Stevenson only had to look to his family and childhood friends to know that interest rates would stay at zero. His staggering bonuses were granted on his knowledge that things would only get worse for most people. “There’s no conscious moralising in the book. But you have these moments where I just made a two-million-pound bonus and cycle past this homeless person, and my first thought is, ‘how did he get such white bed sheets?’” For years, he stifled the growing dissonance of his work and his surroundings. He reflects that, while today’s young people naturally question whether society is on the right path, such questions were far less common in his world at the time. “I grew up in the 90s and the 00s. Pre-2008, pre-Iraq war. The era of MTV Base, of throwing strippers into swimming pools, of excess,” he grins with a wry nostalgia. “I was living the dream that I was told was the dream, and I had this breakdown in full view of myself and everyone around me. And because I was making so much money, nobody was even able to conceptualise it was a breakdown – not even me.” Using a mix of long-term interest rate swamps, he continued to bet against hikes in interest. Year after year, his paycheck was proof of the very inequality he bet on, the reason his childhood friends’ parents were unable to own their homes or feed their kids. It began to gnaw at his body before his mind caught up. “We all have these things that stick, but you push them down and pretend they don’t exist. And then you get physically sick – it’s a kind of rebellion of the spirit against the mind because you want to believe there’s no such thing as altruism or social responsibility. But part of me was saying behind the scenes, ‘No, no, it’s not right.’” After months of somatic warnings, a surreal moment at a karaoke bar in Tokyo snapped things into focus. He had to leave. At 27, Stevenson walked away from Citibank at the height of his earnings. He went on to earn an MPhil in Economics at Oxford, then lent his insights to platforms like the BBC, The Guardian, and Novara. By 2020, he turned to YouTube, first unpacking overlooked drivers of inequality before shifting into full-scale economic advocacy, pushing to tax the super-rich. His channel exploded. Yet even now as he warns of an impending collapse, his inbox is flooded with variations of the same question: but how do I make money like you did? “It’s like Margaret Thatcher’s ‘there’s no such thing as society’ – it won. We’ve convinced young people that altruism doesn’t exist. When I was 16, 20, 23, I didn’t believe it either. But now, at 38, I think selfishness isn’t all we are.” Stevenson recognises in his audience the same desperation for wealth – now really a matter of survival – that once consumed him. He knows the system is built to sustain itself, and that worsening conditions will inevitably bring political upheaval – either through progressive tax reform or reactionary nationalism. His platform fights for the former while sounding the alarm on the latter. “The billionaire-owned right-wing media is intentionally driving hatred and division amongst the working classes, amongst the public. They’re doing it on purpose. Hatred of migrants is the number one thing standing between the billionaires and higher taxes, and they are going to fund it.” Beyond exposing the inner workings of financial systems, Stevenson dissects how government-fueled social and political tensions reinforce economic inequality, urging his viewers to stay wary. “The right is going to throw all of these wedge issues at you. They’re going to try and get you angry about immigration and gendered issues, about trans rights and all of this other stuff. They’re going to try to make you mad. But when they do that, they want to divide the working class. They want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want.” While billionaires manufacture division between left and right, Stevenson insists the real conflict is top-down. “At the end of the day, 90 per cent of us are going to lose out economically. The economy is our common ground. I know it can be difficult when you’re getting these things that you’re very passionate about thrown at you, but if we cannot find common ground to protect each other’s interests on the economy, we’re going to lose our fucking houses.” Does he think things can get better? He pauses. “I work really hard at this, and the growth in my channel is just unbelievably rapid. That has to be a source of hope. You’ve read my book. I’ve not got a long history of losing. I don’t want to lose this one, and I’m going to try my best to win.” The Trading Game by Gary Stevenson is published by Penguin. !function (f, b, e, v, n, t, s) if (f.fbq) return; n = f.fbq = function () n.callMethod ? n.callMethod.apply(n, arguments) : n.queue.push(arguments) ; if (!f._fbq) f._fbq = n; n.push = n; n.loaded = !0; n.version = '2.0'; n.queue = []; t = b.createElement(e); t.async = !0; t.src = v; s = b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t, s) (window, document, 'script', ' fbq('init', '357833301087547'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[oliviajoyice21]

A Citibank prodigy turned whistleblower, YouTuber and ‘equitable economist’, Gary Stevenson is taking his knowledge of inequality to the masses Sat in a slouchy, dark hoodie on Zoom, fresh off an interview with Piers Morgan, Gary Stevenson tells me how he made millions as one of Citibank’s most profitable traders by betting on the collapse of the economy. A former aspiring grime MC and expelled teenager from east London, Stevenson’s story is the premise of his No 1 Sunday Times best seller, The Trading Game – a gripping account of how he broke into London’s seemingly impenetrable financial sphere by winning a card game, mastered its faculties, then left, disgusted with the system in place. Now, with a rapidly growing YouTube channel and a self-fashioned title as an ‘equitable economist’, he’s campaigning to expose the corruption he walked away from. “I literally made millions of pounds betting on the collapse of our society, in full view of everyone,” Stevenson tells me. “And nobody at any point raised the question of whether that was a problem.” His book has all the familiar ingredients of an epic underdog story: a hustler with humble beginnings, all raw talent and ruthless ambition, shrewdly scaling the walls of gate-kept institutions, facing colourful mentors and adversaries, before triumphing – but not without an inevitable moral reckoning. He describes it as the “tonic to Wolf of Wall Street,” foregoing tales of coke-fuelled excess to paint an industry so insular, self-serving, and detached that even its most successful players could barely process the ethical ramifications of their work. “So much of the media portrayal in TV and film is this unbelievable, hype-train, super-glamorised version of these places,” Stevenson says. “I’ve been in these places, and I think what you actually see is a lot of really sad, pathetic people, and I don’t think anyone had written that story. I thought there was a real space to make something that was way more real and experiential.” Having grown up in Ilford in a single-income household – the son of a Post Office worker and an immigrant mother – Stevenson hustled from childhood, selling sweets at school before being expelled for a “drug-related transgression” at 16. Even so, his knack for numbers and promising grades secured him a place at the London School of Economics (LSE). Thrust into the nepotistic realm of international elite, he quickly realised academic brilliance alone wouldn’t land him a job in finance. “You can imagine what their extracurriculars were compared to mine,” Stevenson chuckles. “When I was a teenager, I was working in DFS, fluffing pillows. I was going to be a grime MC. I was delivering newspapers. And these guys were founding the junior United Nations and bullshit like that, all of this crazy shit that rich kids do. So, I was like, ‘I’m fucked,” basically. It’s ridiculous, but the way I was as a kid, I wasn’t really going to let that stop me.” Courtesy of Penguin By his second year, his classmates were already cosplaying successful bankers – speaking in acronyms, attending finance society events, sporting crisp suits to class. “When I went to LSE, I thought it was going to be full of really smart kids, but because most of these guys come from very wealthy backgrounds, a lot of them actually don’t give a shit,” he asserts, explaining that their future financial positions were not determined by merit but instead who their parents were. “They don’t need the degree. They don’t care about their grades. They literally go to LSE to find a husband or a wife.” Jarred by these strange new tongues and customs, with no clue how to get his foot in the professional door, Stevenson resolved to make himself unignorable. “I just became a dick. I would go to the front of lectures, shout out and correct the professors,” he recalls, bemused. “I knew I was good and just figured, if I can make myself noticed, maybe something will happen.” It worked. A student in the year above introduced him to Citibank’s backdoor hiring process: a single trader was recruited each year through a card game, a test of probability and risk that mimicked the real thing. “As soon as this guy told me, I just started obsessively memorising this game. There was a first round at LSE, which I easily won,” the final round was held at Citibank centre. “When I got to there, I don’t think the kids from posh backgrounds went there expecting to win the final. They wanted to network their way into a job [...] But I was never very good at networking. I went there like, ‘I’m going to win this final.’” That was how, at 21, Stevenson found himself in one of Canary Wharf’s towering office buildings, hazed into taking lunch orders for a trading floor of a hundred. Hungry himself, he devoured every lesson he could from colleagues whom his book depicts as varying shades of eccentric and unhinged (like bosses thumbing through Sports Illustrated to feign camaraderie on day one). But wading deeper into his trade bred a kind of detachment that, while the currency on the trading floor, became corrosive to his sense of self. “I think a lot of young people, especially young men, get into this space because they’re told the only thing that matters is money, money, money,” he observes. “If you’re the kind of person who can lose yourself in a game – and I am, I have to prevent myself from playing computer games because I’ll wake up three months later – you can become completely detached from your humanity.” [The right] want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want In his first year of trading, Stevenson got a bonus of £400,000. He was 23 years old. But it wasn’t so much his college-earned technical knowledge that served his bets; it was his background. While other traders bet on economic recovery after the 2008 crash, Stevenson only had to look to his family and childhood friends to know that interest rates would stay at zero. His staggering bonuses were granted on his knowledge that things would only get worse for most people. “There’s no conscious moralising in the book. But you have these moments where I just made a two-million-pound bonus and cycle past this homeless person, and my first thought is, ‘how did he get such white bed sheets?’” For years, he stifled the growing dissonance of his work and his surroundings. He reflects that, while today’s young people naturally question whether society is on the right path, such questions were far less common in his world at the time. “I grew up in the 90s and the 00s. Pre-2008, pre-Iraq war. The era of MTV Base, of throwing strippers into swimming pools, of excess,” he grins with a wry nostalgia. “I was living the dream that I was told was the dream, and I had this breakdown in full view of myself and everyone around me. And because I was making so much money, nobody was even able to conceptualise it was a breakdown – not even me.” Using a mix of long-term interest rate swamps, he continued to bet against hikes in interest. Year after year, his paycheck was proof of the very inequality he bet on, the reason his childhood friends’ parents were unable to own their homes or feed their kids. It began to gnaw at his body before his mind caught up. “We all have these things that stick, but you push them down and pretend they don’t exist. And then you get physically sick – it’s a kind of rebellion of the spirit against the mind because you want to believe there’s no such thing as altruism or social responsibility. But part of me was saying behind the scenes, ‘No, no, it’s not right.’” After months of somatic warnings, a surreal moment at a karaoke bar in Tokyo snapped things into focus. He had to leave. At 27, Stevenson walked away from Citibank at the height of his earnings. He went on to earn an MPhil in Economics at Oxford, then lent his insights to platforms like the BBC, The Guardian, and Novara. By 2020, he turned to YouTube, first unpacking overlooked drivers of inequality before shifting into full-scale economic advocacy, pushing to tax the super-rich. His channel exploded. Yet even now as he warns of an impending collapse, his inbox is flooded with variations of the same question: but how do I make money like you did? “It’s like Margaret Thatcher’s ‘there’s no such thing as society’ – it won. We’ve convinced young people that altruism doesn’t exist. When I was 16, 20, 23, I didn’t believe it either. But now, at 38, I think selfishness isn’t all we are.” Stevenson recognises in his audience the same desperation for wealth – now really a matter of survival – that once consumed him. He knows the system is built to sustain itself, and that worsening conditions will inevitably bring political upheaval – either through progressive tax reform or reactionary nationalism. His platform fights for the former while sounding the alarm on the latter. “The billionaire-owned right-wing media is intentionally driving hatred and division amongst the working classes, amongst the public. They’re doing it on purpose. Hatred of migrants is the number one thing standing between the billionaires and higher taxes, and they are going to fund it.” Beyond exposing the inner workings of financial systems, Stevenson dissects how government-fueled social and political tensions reinforce economic inequality, urging his viewers to stay wary. “The right is going to throw all of these wedge issues at you. They’re going to try and get you angry about immigration and gendered issues, about trans rights and all of this other stuff. They’re going to try to make you mad. But when they do that, they want to divide the working class. They want men to hate women. They want women to hate men. They want white people to hate foreigners. They want foreigners to hate white people. That’s what they want.” While billionaires manufacture division between left and right, Stevenson insists the real conflict is top-down. “At the end of the day, 90 per cent of us are going to lose out economically. The economy is our common ground. I know it can be difficult when you’re getting these things that you’re very passionate about thrown at you, but if we cannot find common ground to protect each other’s interests on the economy, we’re going to lose our fucking houses.” Does he think things can get better? He pauses. “I work really hard at this, and the growth in my channel is just unbelievably rapid. That has to be a source of hope. You’ve read my book. I’ve not got a long history of losing. I don’t want to lose this one, and I’m going to try my best to win.” The Trading Game by Gary Stevenson is published by Penguin. !function (f, b, e, v, n, t, s) if (f.fbq) return; n = f.fbq = function () n.callMethod ? n.callMethod.apply(n, arguments) : n.queue.push(arguments) ; if (!f._fbq) f._fbq = n; n.push = n; n.loaded = !0; n.version = '2.0'; n.queue = []; t = b.createElement(e); t.async = !0; t.src = v; s = b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t, s) (window, document, 'script', ' fbq('init', '357833301087547'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[meltedhorror]

My god I just realized with Casio

Since he goes along with Law on Punk Hazard, that also means he'd have to go undercover with him and pretend to cooperate with Caesar

Firstly that means he'd HAVE to interact with Caesar, and he would hate every single moment of it

But

Casio has an active bounty on himself not just because of his less than ethical ways of getting data, but also just because of what type of research he does (It would be valuable information to the Marines especially)

Caesar 100% would at least know of Casio, since Casios research specifically deals with DFs and their limits, so I think he'd be pretty interested, or at the very least want to brag about his artificial SMILE fruits to him since we all KNOW Caesar cannot shut the fuck up about how great he is

So not only would he have to get to know about the SMILE fruits from Law beforehand, he'd also probably get to know more from Caesar himself and hate him even more (lmao)

I've accidentally created a consistent running plotpoint for Casio about these stupid fucking artificial fruits

[radpandamiracle]

Gvfc kampgrounds hunger and thurst paid loc sendings outoed paid laid outoed loc paid paid paid loc gv love df sent outoed paid loc dx show Ed show eds show paid loc movies ethics Etics paid gv mouvies hn ethics etics paid VVoiced on laid paid - paid fcd doors openings and closeings paid auto outo loc paid paids paid paids loc must return to Candace Marie Hughes and earth and paid. On. Paid. Loc. mail KIY key card dh to Candace Marie Hughes. On. Paid. Loc. Remove kover. Paid. Loc. Remove cover. Paid. Loc. VVoiced on paid. On. Paid. Loc. Parked. Paid. Lod.

[aibyrdidini]

DEVELOPING A WHITE LABEL MACHINE LEARNING PLATFORM FOR SMALL BUSINESSES AS A SAAS. V 2.0

Proposal: Developing a white label machine learning platform for small businesses as a SaaS.

Definition: "SohoMind" - A white-label machine learning platform as a SaaS, designed to empower small and medium-sized businesses to leverage machine learning capabilities without requiring extensive technical expertise.

The ideas are like fleas, they jump out at you, some come to nothing and if one bites, it becomes reality.

In today's AI landscape, people are looking for opportunities to create AI tools.

The big problem is resources such as: investments, technicians, software, equipment and internal and external storage media.

Start ups and incubators have the capacity to select ideas that follow their own regional and cultural parameters. They are in a hermetic aquarium that doesn't allow them to see outside the box.

They favor the interests of investors and often leave out the real needs of industries.

If we follow the protocols of conduct, we have ideas that don't develop, like fleas that don't bite.

Considering ethics without NDA, I don't care about the rules, which were made to be broken.

I'm presenting a business proposal to the global market, looking for a partnership to develop this idea: " Create a Machine Learning for the Soho market where small and medium-sized businesses will be assisted by a SaaS ML".

I am available to study partnership proposals to develop this idea!

Potential features and functionalities for the platform:

1. Data integration: Connects with databases, APIs, and files for machine learning tasks.

2. Pre-built algorithms: Offers ready-made ML algorithms for classification, regression, clustering, and recommendation systems.

3. Customizable models: Allows businesses to train their own ML models with their data.

4. User-friendly interface: Easy data manipulation, algorithm selection, and model training.

5. Scalability: Handles large data volumes and complex ML tasks.

6. Security: Ensures data encryption and secure storage.

7. Integration: Integrates with platforms like hubspot, Shopify, Salesforce, and Zapier.

8. Affordable pricing: Tailored plans including free and paid tiers.

9. Support and resources: Documentation, tutorials, and customer support.

10. Custom branding: Lets businesses match the platform's branding with their own identity.

Potential Features and Functionality, and snippet codes as POC:

1. Data Integration:

```python

import pandas as pd

from sqlalchemy import create_engine

# Connect to a database

engine = create_engine('postgresql://user:password@host:port/dbname')

df = pd.read_sql_query("SELECT  FROM table_name", engine)….

2. Pre-built Algorithms:

```python

from sklearn.linear_model import LogisticRegression

from sklearn.ensemble import RandomForestClassifier

# Load pre-trained model

model = LogisticRegression()

# Train the model on the data

model.fit(X_train, y_train)….

3. Customizable Models:

```python

from sklearn.model_selection import train_test_split

from sklearn.metrics import accuracy_score

# Split data into training and testing sets

X_train, X_test, y_train, y_test = train_test_split(X, y, test_size=0.2, random_state=42)

# Train a custom model

model = CustomModel()

model.fit(X_train, y_train)……

4. User-friendly Interface:

```python

import streamlit as st

# Create a Streamlit app

st.title("SohoMind")

st.write("Welcome to SohoMind!")…….

5. Scalability:

```python

import dask.dataframe as dd

# Load large dataset

df = dd.read_csv('large_data.csv')

# Scale the data for processing

df = df.compute()……

6. Security:

```python

import cryptography.fernet

# Generate a secret key

secret_key = cryptography.fernet.generate_key()…..

7. Integration:

```python

import hubspot

# Connect to HubSpot API

hubspot = hubspot.HubspotAPI()….

10. Custom Branding:

```python

import streamlit as st

# Set custom branding

st.set_page_config(page_title="Custom Brand", page_icon="custom_icon.png")….

 

[mbamanagementquota]

To Get direct admission in DFS Delhi management quota Call@ 9354992359.

The option of DFS direct admission is not merely an expedited route to an MBA; it's a strategic move towards nurturing the next generation of sustainable innovators. DFS Delhi's direct admission process emphasizes the importance of instilling a deep understanding of sustainability principles and practices in aspiring business leaders.

Graduates from DFS Delhi's direct admission program emerge not only with a strong foundation in business fundamentals but also with a keen awareness of the ethical and environmental considerations that underpin sustainable business practices. This holistic approach ensures that MBA graduates are well-positioned to lead organizations towards a more sustainable and responsible future.