#embedded software course
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emblogicsblog · 1 day ago
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Embedded Systems Software Engineering Course
Embedded systems are at the heart of modern technology, powering devices ranging from smartphones to industrial machines. If you're a BE or B. Tech students looking to master this fascinating field, an Embedded Systems Software Engineering Course is the perfect choice. This course equips you with the knowledge and practical skills to design, develop, and deploy embedded software solutions.
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Training in embedded systems focuses on the integration of hardware and software to create efficient, reliable systems. In locations such as Noida, Texas, Cambridge, Chicago, Sydney, Perth, Tampa, Brisbane, Melbourne, New York, Quebec, British Columbia, Ontario, Calgary, Alberta, and Yorkshire, these courses are tailored to meet the needs of students and professionals aiming to excel in embedded software development.
What You’ll Learn:
Basics of embedded systems architecture.
Programming with C and C++ for microcontrollers.
Real-time operating systems (RTOS) and their applications.
Debugging, testing, and deploying embedded software.
Hands-on experience with project development.
Practical Project Training
The best way to learn embedded software is through hands-on practice. Courses include real-world projects like developing IoT devices, robotics systems, and automotive controls. These projects give you a deep understanding of embedded systems and boost your confidence to work on advanced applications.
Global Opportunities
Embedded systems professionals are in demand worldwide. Whether you're in Cambridge, Chicago, or Sydney, training in this field opens doors to exciting job roles in industries like automotive, healthcare, and consumer electronics.
Embark on your journey in embedded systems software engineering today, and pave the way for a rewarding career in cutting-edge technology!
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learnandgrowcommunity · 1 year ago
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Use this trick to Save time : HDL Simulation through defining clock
Why is this trick useful? Defining a clock in your simulation can save you time during simulation because you don't have to manually generate the clock signal in your simulation environment. Wanted to know how to define and force clock to simulate your digital system. Normally define clock used to simulate system with clock input. But I am telling you this trick for giving values to input ports other than clock. It will help you to save time in simulation because you do not need to force values to input ports every time. Lets brief What we did - gave some clock frequency to input A, like we gave 100. Than we made Half the frequency of clock to 50 and gave it to Input B. In similar way if we have 3rd input too we goanna half the frequency again to 25 and would give to next input.
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questacademy · 2 months ago
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Unlock Your Career Potential with QIS Academy: The Best Software Training Institute in Kochi
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QIS Academy, a division of Quest Innovative Solutions, is dedicated to empowering aspiring professionals with industry-relevant skills and knowledge. As the Top Software Training Institute & Placement in Kochi, QIS Academy offers a wide array of courses tailored to the demands of the tech industry. With options for both online and offline classes, expert guidance, and comprehensive placement assistance, we ensure your success in today’s competitive job market.
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3. Full Stack Developer Course in Kochi
Our Full Stack Developer Course in Kochi equips you with the skills needed to build dynamic web applications. From HTML, CSS, and JavaScript to advanced frameworks, this course covers it all. Ideal for those looking to excel in front-end and back-end development.
4. .NET Full Stack Developer Course in Kochi
Learn to build robust and scalable applications with our .NET Full Stack Developer Course in Kochi. This course includes training in C#, ASP.NET, and SQL Server, making it perfect for individuals aiming for careers in enterprise-level software development.
5. Best Python Training in Kochi & Calicut
Our Python training program in Kochi and Calicut is designed for beginners and professionals alike. Known as the Best Python Training in Kochi & Calicut, this course emphasizes practical coding and problem-solving to enhance your programming expertise.
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Placement Assistance at QIS Academy
Our dedicated placement team ensures you’re equipped with the right skills to succeed in interviews and land high-paying jobs. Many of our students have been placed in top MNCs as full stack developers, Python programmers, .NET specialists, and data scientists.
Learn from the Best in Kerala
Located in Kochi, Kerala, QIS Academy is renowned for delivering the Best Software Training in Kochi. Whether it’s data science, full stack development, or Python programming, we provide unmatched quality and results.
Conclusion
QIS Academy stands out as the Top Software Training Institute & Placement in Kochi, offering a range of industry-relevant courses to help you excel in the competitive tech world. With expert trainers, hands-on projects, and dedicated placement support, we are proud to be recognized as the Best Software Training Institute in Kochi. Join QIS Academy today and take the first step toward building a successful career in technology!
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technoscoe · 4 months ago
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Discover the Best Embedded Software Development Course in India
Discover the best Embedded Software Development Course in India with Technos! Our expertly designed program offers hands-on training, industry-relevant skills, and comprehensive knowledge to help you excel in embedded systems. Gain practical experience, learn from professionals, and boost your career. Enroll today to start your journey in embedded software development with the best course in India.
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acvk · 8 months ago
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codei5academy · 9 months ago
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neuailabs · 1 year ago
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Crafting Your Path: Embedded Systems Course with Placement at NeuAI Labs
Join NeuAI Labs for an embedded systems course with placement support. Gain real-world experience and kickstart your career
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iiesbangalore · 2 years ago
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Maximizing Performance and Efficiency with Microcontrollers in Embedded Systems
Embedded systems are becoming increasingly common in modern technology, and microcontrollers are a key component in these systems. Microcontrollers are small computers that are embedded in hardware and are used to control various functions of the system. In this blog, we will explore the applications for embedded systems and how microcontrollers can be used to maximize performance and efficiency.
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Applications for Embedded Systems
Embedded systems are used in a wide range of applications, from consumer electronics to industrial automation. Some common applications for embedded systems include:
Medical Devices
Embedded systems are used in medical devices such as pacemakers and insulin pumps. These devices require precise control and monitoring, and microcontrollers are used to ensure that the device operates safely and efficiently.
Automotive Systems
Embedded systems are used in automotive systems such as engine control units and anti-lock braking systems. These systems require real-time control and monitoring, and microcontrollers are used to ensure that the system operates safely and efficiently.
Consumer Electronics
Embedded systems are used in consumer electronics such as smartphones and smart home devices. These devices require low power consumption and high performance, and microcontrollers are used to ensure that the device operates efficiently and effectively.
Maximizing Performance and Efficiency with Microcontrollers
Real-Time Control
One of the key advantages of microcontrollers is their ability to provide real-time control. Real-time control allows the system to respond quickly to changes in the environment or user input. This is essential in applications such as automotive systems, where quick response times are critical.
Low Power Consumption
Microcontrollers are designed to consume very little power, making them ideal for battery-powered applications. This is essential in applications such as medical devices, where long battery life is critical.
High Performance
Microcontrollers are designed to provide high performance in a small package. This makes them ideal for applications such as consumer electronics, where space is limited but high performance is required.
Integration with Other Components
Microcontrollers can be integrated with other components such as sensors and actuators. This allows the system to monitor and control various functions, providing greater efficiency and performance.
Conclusion
Embedded systems are becoming increasingly common in modern technology, and microcontrollers are a key component in these systems. Microcontrollers provide real-time control, low power consumption, high performance, and integration with other components. These features allow embedded systems to operate efficiently and effectively in a wide range of applications. If you are interested in developing embedded systems, it is important to understand the applications for embedded systems and the advantages of using microcontrollers to maximize performance and efficiency.
The Indian Institute of Embedded Systems is the best embedded training institute in Bangalore, offering high-quality education and training to students who want to pursue a career in embedded systems. With experienced instructors and a comprehensive curriculum, students can be sure that they will receive the knowledge and skills needed to succeed in this field. The institute offers a wide range of courses, including microcontroller embedded C programming, embedded Linux, and embedded systems design. With hands-on training and practical experience, students can apply their knowledge to real-world applications. Choose the Indian Institute of Embedded Systems for the best embedded training institute in Bangalore.
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ipcsathira · 2 years ago
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https://ipcsglobal.com/siliguri-ipcs-global/
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le-chevalier-au-lion · 2 months ago
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cannot dream of returning to dust: marcnaia [m]
Marc dabs the corner of his mouth. It’s blood—stark, rusting, red.
He looks at Pecco. Startles after a disjointed moment like an old, whirring computer, too little hardware to contain the leaden software of his racing instincts and the bike data. And his soul too, but Pecco isn’t one for theatrics as much as he is for punishment.
“You alright?” He prods clumsily. He can’t not.
Marc shrugs—a disquieting thing to watch. Everything is half a second off, and his body jerks unevenly. “’s fine,” he spits, sharp, all at once. “Long day. But it is good.”
It was, technically.
He won.
Pecco doesn’t know how, exactly, but surely he’s long past asking that. Staring at Marc’s data is like staring at that little phial of fresh, millennia-old blood in the Naples Cathedral. And worse yet, if they tear the wiring out of Marc’s veins, Pecco thinks he’d still be Marc. Miraculous, except their kind isn’t in the business for that.
It’s not flattering. Being close to him at all isn’t flattering.
Marc keeps watching him. The whites of his eyes are too white. His fingers—carbon fiber, dented, dusted—spasm at his side, with a staticky hiss. There’s old blood on his upper lip.
“Here,” Pecco says, automatic. Hands him the towel wrapped around his neck.
One day, it won’t rake its nails through his nerves and sensors, the sheer fucking suffocating awkwardness of existing close him. Marc picks it up warily, wipes down his face twice. Pecco wants to twitch. The hardware embedded in his flesh feels like it’s groaning, overwhelmed, overheating.
“Thanks,” Marc mutters. Then: “I'm fine. You don't have to worry.”
Probably not. And probably impossible. Pecco huffs out a noise that can pass as a snort���reedy as it sounds. “Ok.”
It doesn’t settle anything.
Marc’s motorhome seems three sizes too small for them. Walls scraping against his shoulders, the ceiling too low, Marc everywhere he looks. Marc, Marc, Marc—distrusting, cagey like a kicked dog down to the hard line of his shoulders. Pecco picks at his cuticles until they bleed. The tips of his fingers ache, swollen.
The podium champagne is heavy in his stomach. He feels nauseous—faintly. Maybe they downloaded nervous puking along with his first riding augmentations.
Pecco crumbles on Marc’s sofa. He feels gritty, slow. Like there’s circuit rot in the hollow of his chest, melting his wires together and getting the signals to blur. Marc follows. Sits so close he might hear semantic errors piling up, the stutter of ram processors in overdrive.
He’s a pitiless thing through that—grabs Pecco’s hand and puts it on the crook of his elbow. The flesh one. When Pecco runs his fingers over the skin there, fragile, there’s only the faint knob of a sensor port, as familiar as the shape of his bones.
It’s too much, suddenly.
“You are excited for Sachsenring,” Pecco says. An abrupt, lumbering way out. Next weekend, more racing, easy stuff.
Marc barks out a laugh. Light, airy. “Of course.”
Of course.
“King of the ring. Right.”
It comes out—strained, maybe. Settles all under his skin with a red-hot kind of humiliation, of awe. The fans in this frenzied delirium. Ducati whispering among itself, that he’ll be splendid, glorious, like Pecco hadn’t been winning for them. As much as he humanly could, even.
The problem is that Marc might not be human—Valentino said it first, he remembers. After Argentina. That Marc is too much chromium and stainless steel and copper wirings and doesn’t care for the rest of them. There was a hanged cardboard robot in one of the Misanos, once.
Or he’s too human. The last great thing of real meat and real talent. A modern rider Agostini can admire. A rider from before the current, palatable bikes and the seamless lines of seamless implants.
“Pecco,” Marc says, urgent, gravelly.
When Pecco turns his head, Marc is right there, blinking up at him, looking miserable—pale, wan, cheeks gaunt—and handsome about it.
They’re both very good at miserable. In opposite directions.
Pecco doesn’t see it happening. It’s like an overtake—he only breathes out when it’s done and doesn’t ask questions. He curls his palm around the back of Marc’s head and kisses him. Chases the coppery bite pooling on his tongue with his own.
Marc makes a noise, hard, wanting. Then he’s on Pecco’s lap, wrangling him like a Ducati on the corners, all ten fingers digging into his shoulders. Those little flashes of pain scramble his thoughts, makes his systems fumble in every direction, frizzing.
“Can you,” Marc trails off, sighing against his mouth.
“Yeah, yeah,” Pecco mutters, halfway to delirious, the taste of blood and naked wires clinging to the insides of his cheeks.
He flips them around, presses Marc against the couch, boxing him with his knees. He knows what Marc wants—and doesn’t want to say why he knows. This is a terrible idea, but it was a terrible idea the last ten, eleven times too.
Pecco splays his thumb on the sharp cut of Marc’s cheek. He grins, waggles his eyebrows. It’s ridiculous. Doesn’t make it any less devastating when he turns his head to the side and sucks his finger into his mouth.
He tries to not think about spraying champagne on his face. Fails. Tries to not think about Marc, on his knees, lips spit shiny, and—
Fails too.
So Pecco kisses him again to stop himself, reckless, feverish, and Marc’s hands go under his shirt, the horrible red of it. He fucking hates it. The heat of Marc’s touch, how it flays him open. The mortification and amazement sizzling in his throat. The jealousy.
That Marc gets to be a mechanical haunting and still—still win. That he got bishops calling him a freak, and the Pope pleading sports to cease their fiddling into God’s own most beloved creatures, and Valentino branding him an enemy, and he just keeps going. Keeps winning. Godless twice over, and yet.
That Pecco—sleek carbon fiber, updated processors, the new deal—can replaced by an ugly, bleeding Frankenstein of wrong parts and outdated code.
“You are thinking,” Marc hums, face flushed pink and lovely, the bite of his prosthetic fingers unyielding on Pecco’s waist. It lilts like a question. “Francesco.”
“Hmmm,” he manages to pry out. He hates it a little less now. “About you.”
Marc laughs. “All bad things, I hope.”
And so Pecco laughs too—almost unwillingly. Chokes on it when Marc rocks up, grinds their cocks together.
That close to him, Pecco is washed out. Perfect, passionless.
But at least Marc is also less. There’s an electric hiss, and his entire body jolts. He’s in pain, probably. Parts two generations ahead of him and ancient wires misbehaving together.
If Pecco opened the panel on his back, he’d get to see what massacre of limits stripped and repeating signals is acting up, he thinks. What is hurting him.
Marc clings to pain like he’d cling to a naked razor, though—all maniac glee. When Pecco hesitates, hovering above him, he surges up for the kill. Bites down on his bottom lip, licks hotly into his open mouth. He’s fumbling—greedy and insistent—with his jeans.
“Marc,” Pecco tries protesting, tries slowing him.
The name breaks into a groan. Marc flattens his palm against his cock, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, his tongue between his teeth, sweat gathering along his forehead.
Fine.
Fucking fine.
He has to be in pain, and Pecco is—wired and nauseous and waiting for the moment when the spiral over second place will sharpen him. They are—it has been said—very good at their own types of torment.
Pecco gets to work on Marc’s pants, shoves his own down unceremoniously. He spits on his own palm and wraps it around both of them. It’s smooth, the good synth stuff over his ports and sensors—and, ha, isn’t that a win.
Marc relaxes a fraction. Lets out this tiny, breathy sound. He buries his face against the hollow of Pecco’s neck, his nose brushing against the small, closed panel there. His hips sway in odd lurches, rub them together anyway.
It’s good. Pecco would like to say he’s above liking it, but he isn’t. Can’t lie.
Christ.
His tongue is plastered to the roof of his mouth. He tightens his fist, sinks into the sensation of the head of his cock rubbing against the patch of rough hair between Marc’s legs. Into the absurdity of this, Marc quiet and wanting and greedy under him. Wide-eyed.
“Pecco,” he whispers, clumsily, and then cuts himself off. Kisses the wild flutter of his pulse on his neck rather than speaking.
“It’s fine,” Pecco shushes him, runs his thumb over the vein on Marc’s cock so he stops talking. He has no idea what else this could be.
Proof that they’re human, maybe. They act outside their code and don’t grind to a halt.
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periprose · 8 months ago
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i kno its not everyones cup of tea but would u ever do tasm!peter parker as a baby girl dad?? like reader and him are parents to a baby girl 🥹🥹 maybe even pregnant reader!! ajfdhjfd i have many thoughts but i kno again not everyone likes pregnancy/baby stuff
yeah maybe!! honestly I had a dream about this once. It was pretty cute and I can see myself writing something about it lolol. I love babies and pregnancy stuff tbh. If it was feasible financially I'd love to be a mom too!! Baby fever goes hard lol
and I just know tasm Peter would be so good at being a dad... he would love that lil baby to pieces.
Like just imagine him balancing his work and little baby Mayday (just abusing the canon baby name here lol sorry MJ) on his knee. She's full of giggles and wandering hands constantly touching whatever tech he's working on.
And Peter's all gentle so he pulls her away with soft hands, not wanting to dissuade her, just for her safety, but he secretly loves that his daughter clearly takes after him.
"Who's gonna be a cute little inventor, huh? Is May-May gonna take after her papa Peter Parker?" He jostles her around and she shrieks with laughter.
Eventually he'd set up a LEGO block corner for her so her hands can stay busy. And Mayday loves building things, so eventually Peter looks over to see just the top of her red hair, as she's mostly obscured by the giant LEGO wall she built.
And he's be so proud, the first thing he would do is show you when you get back home from work:
"Look at what May made!" He would hold her up and she'd grin really proud as they both motion towards the big wall she made in the corner of your bedroom.
"Aw, you wanna be an architect like Mommy?" Because of course you'd be an architect in this scenario, and it would be a hilarious, small-fake-beef between you and Peter. And Mayday, not really processing your sentence, nods, adding to your shit-eating grin.
"Uh, no, just wait until she gets into software. Mayday's gonna be a coder like her Papa." Peter fixes his glasses and side-eyes you. Mostly jokingly.
"Well, I don't see any tech embedded inside the LEGO wall." You coo at Mayday, who's reaching towards you from Peter's hands. "You want to build beautiful, artsy buildings in the heart of the city like Mommy, right?"
"Nuh-uh." Peter puts on a silly, girly voice mimicking Mayday, placing his face behind her as if his voice is really coming out of her. She bites her thumb, laughing. "I wanna be like Papa because coding actually does something."
"Hey!" You pull Mayday out of his hands, with a falsely offended gasp at his audacity to use Mayday in his propaganda. "Housing important things is something, you jerk."
"Yeah, but it's not an action executed by a program, is it?" Peter prods your shoulder. "Architecture is cool and all, but it just... is."
"Wow." You blink. "Why did I marry you?"
"Papa?" Mayday tilts her head at you and you burst out laughing, rubbing your face against hers.
"Yeah, May."
"Cool." She points to him, and you roll your eyes, as Peter takes this with some nerd-afflicted ego.
"Yup. Papa cool, May."
"You so told her to say that." You shake your head at him, and he shrugs, pulling the two of you into a hug.
Whatever Mayday does, you know you'll both be proud of her.
(NGL I could write this into a whole actual fic if we want it, instead of a blurb lol)
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poeticlark · 7 days ago
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769 words, my own au i call "doll au", inspired by cyberpunk. everyone is a cyborg yah whatever. enjoy, and yes i accept questions on the au.
Part Two
-.-.-
Captain Curly’s medical file is 13 pages of technical jargon, schematics, therapy notes and several police reports. It's the longest in volume, outmatching even Swansea’s extensive age and habit of replacing livers when they fail him. 
Before completing a trimonthly diagnostic on each crewmember, Anya must read through their medical records to prepare. All restricted files on the Tulpar are paper, unable to be downloaded or accessed through any cyberware. Locked away in cases and drawers for select crew.
She opens Curly's file on the desk, organises the paper's with a soft shuffling. Slides her glasses on, so the eyestrain of the contacts doesn’t overwhelm. 
Her radio comforts, cello solos for reading while she drinks the Pony Express tea. Tea is a liberal interpretation of dust swept from the factory floor and stuffed into rice paper pouches that dissolve into the water, leaving behind a starchy taste. There’s only 100 packed for the whole trip, and she hates them.
Alas, the urge to drink tea while studying, self-ingrained through her schooling habits, is too strong to beat. Anya sips at her starchy dust water and tries to comprehend what a Systematic Ram Reshuffler is.
The Captain’s body is full of things, full of wires and chips. His files are full of complications from those wires and chips. She reads through the reports from his biomonitor, the watch embedded in his wrist, the bracing on his hand where he broke it in a warehouse accident. The optical enhancements he has, top market for his line of work. The maintainer attached to his heart. A diagram of his brain overflowing with neuralware, stretches of cabling stretching along the rippling tissue.
She jots down a note to monitor Curly for complications, and more stringent psychological evaluation. No wonder he’s so indebted, she thinks to herself. These implants must cost tens of thousands.
She stops in her shuffling, turns the radio down when a note rings out like a squeal. Surely, she misread it. Misunderstood. 
The fourth page is an extensive report of the process of installing a Morpheus Behavioural Chip from Projekt Industries. 
Something's kicking in her chest, something scared. A Morpheus.
The report is not as dramatic as maybe it should be, size twelve lettering on slightly creased paper. Perfectly normal language, probably typed out by a surgeon eager to rush off to their lunch break. Nauseatingly mundane and impassive. Totally typical of a post surgery report. She’s unsure that it’s about Curly, until she doubles and then triple checks his full name at the top of the page.
26th September, 1984: The implant was installed into the client’s frontal lobe. Surgery was 7 hours and 42 minutes. There were no complications.
28th September, 1984: The client woke up from anaesthetic and attempted to decannulate himself. The nurse on duty prevented this from happening, and he quickly regained composure.
29th September: 1984 The implant appears to have integrated with the client’s nervous system and frontal lobe without complication. No inflammation beyond standard medication. Diagnostics by a software engineer shows full functionality has been achieved.
13th October, 1984: The client will be discharged tonight, and return weekly until the end of the month for monitoring. Prescription for courses of medication sent electronically: immunosuppressants, antibiotics, antiinflammation and antiemetics will be supplied in courses  
A Morpheus chip in the frontal lobe of Captain Curly. Anya leans back, spine slamming into the back of her chair as her vision seems to fizzle at the edges. Curly, in charge of The Tulpar and the wellbeing of every single person on board, has a behavioural chip. Curly is a doll. 
Scolding herself for that kind of language, she lets the paper down on the desk like it stings to touch. Curly’s a person, a person with independent thoughts. Not some meat machine, and she’d be able to tell if it wasn’t him. His opticware is connected to the implant, an alert to anyone he talks to if it's active. Curly is himself, and himself is a person. A Morpheus chip doesn’t mean anything.
The cup of tea, wobbling precariously in her unsteady hand, tips onto her. It scalds, soaking into her uniform’s trousers and the pants underneath that.
“Fuck!” 
She stumbles to her feet, stumbling to get out of her uniform and shoving the papers across the table. It burns, bringing angry tears to her eyes as she stumbles to the sink reserved for handwashing. At least the medical room can lock, she bitterly recalls while stripping down to her underclothes and splashing water onto her angry, red skin. 
She's lost her appetite for pony express tea even more, now. Behavioural chip interfaces with all programs in functionality tests, the report read, and the dead pixel flashes at the back of her skull insistently.
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seat-safety-switch · 2 years ago
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There’s a disease out there. A grotesque, spreading thing that will get you when you least expect it. That’s right, the internet is packed solid with t-shirt making bots. When you post a picture on Twitter, some script will come by and turn it into a t-shirt for sale. Will you get a penny of that garment money? No. Is it a little weird that the machines have converted blurry pictures of erotic pancakes into clothing they will mail to you for twenty United States dollars? By recent standards, also no.
It got me to thinking. A picture is pretty easy to copy. What if you made a picture that was difficult to copy? Then, it would be much more expensive to turn it into a t-shirt. I embarked on my journey of refreshing my computer-science fundamentals, diving deep into the mathematics behind cryptography and modern commerce. Then I figured out that of course you can’t do that, so I decided to go to plan B: tricking the robots into doing work for me.
Here’s the thing: these “robots” are actually just computer programs, and those computer programs are running on a computer that I don’t have to pay for electricity or disk space on. I started to upload the contents of my hard drive as images, and tagged the t-shirt bots to come over and back them up for me for free. Thanks, assholes! That was just the beginning, though, and I soon experimented with embedding exploit code into the images. Surely these outfit pirates haven’t kept their software patched, I figured, and I was right.
Once I got access to a few thousand t-shirt bot computers, it was a relatively simple matter to turn them loose on their creators. I released my new winged monkeys onto the internet at large, in search of any words left unclothed. The world of human language is rich, and dense, and surely that would immediately fill up their hard drives with useless gibberish.
All this is to explain why I’m a little grumpy today. You see, I didn’t get any credit for this year’s must-have fashion item, a white Gildan t-shirt that says “Gargle My Ass.”
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questacademy · 9 months ago
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Quest Innovative Solutions: Master Embedded Systems Training in Kochi
Discover comprehensive embedded systems training in Kochi with Quest Innovative Solutions. Elevate your skills and unlock new career opportunities. https://www.qisacademy.com/course/advanced-diploma-in-embedded-systems
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ugackminer · 2 years ago
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So, I made a tool to stop AI from stealing from writers
So seeing this post really inspired me in order to make a tool that writers could use in order to make it unreadable to AI.
And it works! You can try out the online demo, and view all of the code that runs it here!
It does more than just mangle text though! It's also able to invisibly hide author and copyright info, so that you can have definitive proof that someone's stealing your works if they're doing a simple copy and paste!
Below is an example of Scrawl in action!
Τо հսⅿаոѕ, 𝗍հᎥꜱ 𝗍ех𝗍 𐌉ο໐𝗄ꜱ ո໐𝗋ⅿаⵏ, 𝖻ս𝗍 𝗍о ᴄоⅿрս𝗍е𝗋ꜱ, Ꭵ𝗍'ѕ սո𝗋еаⅾа𝖻ⵏе!
[Text reads "To humans, this text looks normal, but to computers, it's unreadable!"]
Of course, this "Anti-AI" mode comes with some pretty serious accessibility issues, like breaking screen readers and other TTS software, but there's no real way to make text readable to one AI but not to another AI.
If you're okay with it, you can always have Anti-AI mode off, which will make it so that AIs can understand your text while embedding invisible characters to save your copyright information! (as long as the website you're posting on doesn't remove those characters!)
But, the Anti-AI mode is pretty cool.
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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago
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A link-clump demands a linkdump
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Cometh the weekend, cometh the linkdump. My daily-ish newsletter includes a section called "Hey look at this," with three short links per day, but sometimes those links get backed up and I need to clean house. Here's the eight previous installments:
https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/
The country code top level domain (ccTLD) for the Caribbean island nation of Anguilla is .ai, and that's turned into millions of dollars worth of royalties as "entrepreneurs" scramble to sprinkle some buzzword-compliant AI stuff on their businesses in the most superficial way possible:
https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/08/ai-fever-turns-anguillas-ai-domain-into-a-digital-gold-mine/
All told, .ai domain royalties will account for about ten percent of the country's GDP.
It's actually kind of nice to see Anguilla finding some internet money at long last. Back in the 1990s, when I was a freelance web developer, I got hired to work on the investor website for a publicly traded internet casino based in Anguilla that was a scammy disaster in every conceivable way. The company had been conceived of by people who inherited a modestly successful chain of print-shops and decided to diversify by buying a dormant penny mining stock and relaunching it as an online casino.
But of course, online casinos were illegal nearly everywhere. Not in Anguilla – or at least, that's what the founders told us – which is why they located their servers there, despite the lack of broadband or, indeed, reliable electricity at their data-center. At a certain point, the whole thing started to whiff of a stock swindle, a pump-and-dump where they'd sell off shares in that ex-mining stock to people who knew even less about the internet than they did and skedaddle. I got out, and lost track of them, and a search for their names and business today turns up nothing so I assume that it flamed out before it could ruin any retail investors' lives.
Anguilla is a British Overseas Territory, one of those former British colonies that was drained and then given "independence" by paternalistic imperial administrators half a world away. The country's main industries are tourism and "finance" – which is to say, it's a pearl in the globe-spanning necklace of tax- and corporate-crime-havens the UK established around the world so its most vicious criminals – the hereditary aristocracy – can continue to use Britain's roads and exploit its educated workforce without paying any taxes.
This is the "finance curse," and there are tiny, struggling nations all around the world that live under it. Nick Shaxson dubbed them "Treasure Islands" in his outstanding book of the same name:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780230341722/treasureislands
I can't imagine that the AI bubble will last forever – anything that can't go on forever eventually stops – and when it does, those .ai domain royalties will dry up. But until then, I salute Anguilla, which has at last found the internet riches that I played a small part in bringing to it in the previous century.
The AI bubble is indeed overdue for a popping, but while the market remains gripped by irrational exuberance, there's lots of weird stuff happening around the edges. Take Inject My PDF, which embeds repeating blocks of invisible text into your resume:
https://kai-greshake.de/posts/inject-my-pdf/
The text is tuned to make resume-sorting Large Language Models identify you as the ideal candidate for the job. It'll even trick the summarizer function into spitting out text that does not appear in any human-readable form on your CV.
Embedding weird stuff into resumes is a hacker tradition. I first encountered it at the Chaos Communications Congress in 2012, when Ang Cui used it as an example in his stellar "Print Me If You Dare" talk:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njVv7J2azY8
Cui figured out that one way to update the software of a printer was to embed an invisible Postscript instruction in a document that basically said, "everything after this is a firmware update." Then he came up with 100 lines of perl that he hid in documents with names like cv.pdf that would flash the printer when they ran, causing it to probe your LAN for vulnerable PCs and take them over, opening a reverse-shell to his command-and-control server in the cloud. Compromised printers would then refuse to apply future updates from their owners, but would pretend to install them and even update their version numbers to give verisimilitude to the ruse. The only way to exorcise these haunted printers was to send 'em to the landfill. Good times!
Printers are still a dumpster fire, and it's not solely about the intrinsic difficulty of computer security. After all, printer manufacturers have devoted enormous resources to hardening their products against their owners, making it progressively harder to use third-party ink. They're super perverse about it, too – they send "security updates" to your printer that update the printer's security against you – run these updates and your printer downgrades itself by refusing to use the ink you chose for it:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer
It's a reminder that what a monopolist thinks of as "security" isn't what you think of as security. Oftentimes, their security is antithetical to your security. That was the case with Web Environment Integrity, a plan by Google to make your phone rat you out to advertisers' servers, revealing any adblocking modifications you might have installed so that ad-serving companies could refuse to talk to you:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai
WEI is now dead, thanks to a lot of hueing and crying by people like us:
https://www.theregister.com/2023/11/02/google_abandons_web_environment_integrity/
But the dream of securing Google against its own users lives on. Youtube has embarked on an aggressive campaign of refusing to show videos to people running ad-blockers, triggering an arms-race of ad-blocker-blockers and ad-blocker-blocker-blockers:
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/where-will-the-ad-versus-ad-blocker-arms-race-end/
The folks behind Ublock Origin are racing to keep up with Google's engineers' countermeasures, and there's a single-serving website called "Is uBlock Origin updated to the last Anti-Adblocker YouTube script?" that will give you a realtime, one-word status update:
https://drhyperion451.github.io/does-uBO-bypass-yt/
One in four web users has an ad-blocker, a stat that Doc Searls pithily summarizes as "the biggest boycott in world history":
https://doc.searls.com/2015/09/28/beyond-ad-blocking-the-biggest-boycott-in-human-history/
Zero app users have ad-blockers. That's not because ad-blocking an app is harder than ad-blocking the web – it's because reverse-engineering an app triggers liability under IP laws like Section 1201 of the Digital Millenium Copyright Act, which can put you away for 5 years for a first offense. That's what I mean when I say that "IP is anything that lets a company control its customers, critics or competitors:
https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/
I predicted that apps would open up all kinds of opportunities for abusive, monopolistic conduct back in 2010, and I'm experiencing a mix of sadness and smugness (I assume there's a German word for this emotion) at being so thoroughly vindicated by history:
https://memex.craphound.com/2010/04/01/why-i-wont-buy-an-ipad-and-think-you-shouldnt-either/
The more control a company can exert over its customers, the worse it will be tempted to treat them. These systems of control shift the balance of power within companies, making it harder for internal factions that defend product quality and customer interests to win against the enshittifiers:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/
The result has been a Great Enshittening, with platforms of all description shifting value from their customers and users to their shareholders, making everything palpably worse. The only bright side is that this has created the political will to do something about it, sparking a wave of bold, muscular antitrust action all over the world.
The Google antitrust case is certainly the most important corporate lawsuit of the century (so far), but Judge Amit Mehta's deference to Google's demands for secrecy has kept the case out of the headlines. I mean, Sam Bankman-Fried is a psychopathic thief, but even so, his trial does not deserve its vastly greater prominence, though, if you haven't heard yet, he's been convicted and will face decades in prison after he exhausts his appeals:
https://newsletter.mollywhite.net/p/sam-bankman-fried-guilty-on-all-charges
The secrecy around Google's trial has relaxed somewhat, and the trickle of revelations emerging from the cracks in the courthouse are fascinating. For the first time, we're able to get a concrete sense of which queries are the most lucrative for Google:
https://www.theverge.com/2023/11/1/23941766/google-antitrust-trial-search-queries-ad-money
The list comes from 2018, but it's still wild. As David Pierce writes in The Verge, the top twenty includes three iPhone-related terms, five insurance queries, and the rest are overshadowed by searches for customer service info for monopolistic services like Xfinity, Uber and Hulu.
All-in-all, we're living through a hell of a moment for piercing the corporate veil. Maybe it's the problem of maintaining secrecy within large companies, or maybe the the rampant mistreatment of even senior executives has led to more leaks and whistleblowing. Either way, we all owe a debt of gratitude to the anonymous leaker who revealed the unbelievable pettiness of former HBO president of programming Casey Bloys, who ordered his underlings to create an army of sock-puppet Twitter accounts to harass TV and movie critics who panned HBO's shows:
https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/hbo-casey-bloys-secret-twitter-trolls-tv-critics-leaked-texts-lawsuit-the-idol-1234867722/
These trolling attempts were pathetic, even by the standards of thick-fingered corporate execs. Like, accusing critics who panned the shitty-ass Perry Mason reboot of disrespecting veterans because the fictional Mason's back-story had him storming the beach on D-Day.
The pushback against corporate bullying is everywhere, and of course, the vanguard is the labor movement. Did you hear that the UAW won their strike against the auto-makers, scoring raises for all workers based on the increases in the companies' CEO pay? The UAW isn't done, either! Their incredible new leader, Shawn Fain, has called for a general strike in 2028:
https://www.404media.co/uaw-calls-on-workers-to-line-up-massive-general-strike-for-2028-to-defeat-billionaire-class/
The massive victory for unionized auto-workers has thrown a spotlight on the terrible working conditions and pay for workers at Tesla, a criminal company that has no compunctions about violating labor law to prevent its workers from exercising their legal rights. Over in Sweden, union workers are teaching Tesla a lesson. After the company tried its illegal union-busting playbook on Tesla service centers, the unionized dock-workers issued an ultimatum: respect your workers or face a blockade at Sweden's ports that would block any Tesla from being unloaded into the EU's fifth largest Tesla market:
https://www.wired.com/story/tesla-sweden-strike/
Of course, the real solution to Teslas – and every other kind of car – is to redesign our cities for public transit, walking and cycling, making cars the exception for deliveries, accessibility and other necessities. Transitioning to EVs will make a big dent in the climate emergency, but it won't make our streets any safer – and they keep getting deadlier.
Last summer, my dear old pal Ted Kulczycky got in touch with me to tell me that Talking Heads were going to be all present in public for the first time since the band's breakup, as part of the debut of the newly remastered print of Stop Making Sense, the greatest concert movie of all time. Even better, the show would be in Toronto, my hometown, where Ted and I went to high-school together, at TIFF.
Ted is the only person I know who is more obsessed with Talking Heads than I am, and he started working on tickets for the show while I starting pricing plane tickets. And then, the unthinkable happened: Ted's wife, Serah, got in touch to say that Ted had been run over by a car while getting off of a streetcar, that he was severely injured, and would require multiple surgeries.
But this was Ted, so of course he was still planning to see the show. And he did, getting a day-pass from the hospital and showing up looking like someone from a Kids In The Hall sketch who'd been made up to look like someone who'd been run over by a car:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/53182440282/
In his Globe and Mail article about Ted's experience, Brad Wheeler describes how the whole hospital rallied around Ted to make it possible for him to get to the movie:
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/music/article-how-a-talking-heads-superfan-found-healing-with-the-concert-film-stop/
He also mentions that Ted is working on a book and podcast about Stop Making Sense. I visited Ted in the hospital the day after the gig and we talked about the book and it sounds amazing. Also? The movie was incredible. See it in Imax.
That heartwarming tale of healing through big suits is a pretty good place to wrap up this linkdump, but I want to call your attention to just one more thing before I go: Robin Sloan's Snarkmarket piece about blogging and "stock and flow":
https://snarkmarket.com/2010/4890/
Sloan makes the excellent case that for writers, having a "flow" of short, quick posts builds the audience for a "stock" of longer, more synthetic pieces like books. This has certainly been my experience, but I think it's only part of the story – there are good, non-mercenary reasons for writers to do a lot of "flow." As I wrote in my 2021 essay, "The Memex Method," turning your commonplace book into a database – AKA "blogging" – makes you write better notes to yourself because you know others will see them:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/
This, in turn, creates a supersaturated, subconscious solution of fragments that are just waiting to nucleate and crystallize into full-blown novels and nonfiction books and other "stock." That's how I came out of lockdown with nine new books. The next one is The Lost Cause, a hopepunk science fiction novel about the climate whose early fans include Naomi Klein, Rebecca Solnit, Bill McKibben and Kim Stanley Robinson. It's out on November 14:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause
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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/2023/11/05/variegated/#nein
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