Cyberpunk Pillz – by Sara Rael

Being a Cyberpunk, dealing with mild depression and the fucksticks who try to cure us.

In our world there is loneliness of some sort and social anxiety which drives us to work from the shadows and hack or attack fools indiscriminately. As society pushes forward to the brink we will definitely be seeing more in the way of nano drug solutions and hypocritical pseudo medical professionals offering us freedom from our ills. Since the early days of the wild west of the web pseudo science has been there led by a bunch of hacks trying to offload the latest gimmick or drug which ultimately we know will not cure our ills but create more problems. I’m not even going to start on Gwyneth Paltrow’s Vagina Candles (She should be locked up by the way).

There’s a freedom in knowing that you are part of the subversive collective. Even if you Trode solo, it’s those little wins that keep us going. It might come in the form of a successful hack or a music mix you’ve just downloaded finding layers in the strings of the soundtrack to your digital sea. Obsession and love also appear on horizon from time to time just never forget that those are more often than not pussy, dick or slide traps and not at all what you are expecting them to be.

It’s those little wins that I want to focus on. Remember back in the 90’s when the first energy drinks were coming out? My favourite was a one called “Magic” which I just had to have if I was going to code or going into battle on half life with that gorgeous rival cyber goth chick at the local cyber cafe. I asked her out for months but little did I know that all I had to do was let her win a game before she decided to make out with me. I didn’t by the way, she beat my ass from that time on. Little Wins…

I think as you get older you hold on to those experiences more, they become little gemstones you can stare at when depression comes a knocking. You find your bag of tricks to deal but I don’t think you really get cured per se, and that’s why the attitude of promising drug relief is so dangerous. Don’t get me wrong there are those who definitely need to be medicated but don’t ever look upon it as a cure. Even the promise of nano drugs of the future is just so fucking dangerous. Play Deus Ex Human Revolution as an example.

Filling your time with distractions is no cure either. If you don’t feel like you are pursuing the things you love then you are distracting yourself, life might be easier being a salaryman or working in some field you have no passion for, you might be struggling on benefits or you might be on the street and have determined that this is all you deserve. I think if you have a computer or mobile device and you are reading this right now that you have the potential to change the world in your own way. You might give in from time to time and its okay to be a failure in the eyes of others but what the fuck do they know. They don’t know you. They don’t know your exploits. They don’t know that you charmed your way out of being shot in a ditch or you got to kiss that one. Your life is not over. You are part of a larger army of online comrades who are fighting to keep the digital world free.

Keep making forward steps and you will see.

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Rediscovering the freenet – by Sara Rael

An ongoing exploration of where and why shit should be free on the net.

Recently I’ve been cutting down on the services i use from online paid video streaming platforms to music services and anything else that has been leaking my purse. In a bizarre way i feel like I’m rediscovering what the internet was designed for in the first place. A wild fucking platform where anything can happen, as opposed to the boring ins and outs of modern life. Unfortunately the internet has become a part of that and i wanted to explore what happens when i go a little bit deeper in order to find shit i ordinarily wouldn’t otherwise find.

Now a bit of a disclaimer; while yes I’m searching for ways to keep money leaking out of my asshole like a sieve, i still support artist where i can, especially independent artists or programmers or filmmakers. If there’s a mega corporation behind the work however i will go to fucking town.

First thing i did was turn off Netflix, Amazon and Disney (Why did i even sign on to Disney in the first place sigh… baby fucking Yoda), then painfully turned of my YouTube subscription… I’d become so dependant on it that i didn’t mind paying the fifteen or so bucks for the service and it sort of had become a drug for me. Just think of it as evil corporate nanites that had infected my sense of reasoning. I immediately went to qBittorrent and saw that there was an upgrade. Now I’d only been using it very sparingly to look up shit but not use but I knew this is the first place I needed to look. I looked up Napster but like most things it’s gone subscription based now. They (subscription based entities) entice you in with those fucking 30 day trials and then charge you before the 30 day trial begins so that you have to spend at least a month with them and you are more likely to get addicted.

Of course whatever you search for you still need to use a browser and search engine like DuckDuckGo or Torrent Freak for updated info, remembering I bought into the corporate animal for a while and this is all about rediscovery. You’ll need to use a proxy to access most sites from Australia these days. Pretty east to find like or the Pirate Bay’s own proxy

So now that I’ve got a couple of old retro wave files. I need something to play them in that’s not gonna fuck me up so much. I thought Winamp really is the one old reliable so I downloaded that I giggled so hard when I heard the Winamp intro again after all these years “Winamp, it really ‘still’ whips the Llama’s ass”

So while that has taken care of some of my audio needs, there’s still some limitations which I need to break. Most notably with latest tv shows and films and having to click on incoming spam advertisements constantly. Again I will note I will support independent artists and films where I can, course if they want to be cunts then fuck em.

The next thing, because our digital rights don’t exist anymore, is to use tor or a VPN for searching to mask your IP Address. Using PPTP on Windows 7,8 or 10 you can create your own VPN Server but that comes with its own vulnerabilities.

Continue on to part 2 via Patreon:

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Zero Fuckz – Terminator Dark Fate – By Sara Rael

Disclaimer – Not too many spoilerz.

Forget that T3, T4, T5 and the Sarah Connor Chronicles ever happened and What you get is Dark Fate which has just dropped online in HD and is way fucking awesome.

I feel like after many fuck-ups, blunders and no direction that the James Cameron team have restored faith to the franchise capturing the essence of the rage that is Sarah Connor against the machines. What’s most impressive is that it goes way beyond what its predecessors have done in terms of believable threat. I honestly didn’t know who was going to live and who was going to die, including the “new John”.

The visual effects are way fucking awesome too and before you go into the de-aging debate, let me tell you these cunts pulled it off for once.

Grace, an over engineered human comes from a future where Skynet does not exist but rad Roman “Legion” Robots still do. She has a mission, to fall off a bridge, steal some clothes and protect a you Mexican Woman who is going to help save the human race somehow. I know i know, your asking yourselves why isn’t it ever an Australian who saves the world?

Teaming up with her pals Grandpa 101 and the original mutherfucking Sarah Connor Linda Hamilton, they battle to save the future from an even worse fate than skynet… You guessed it Diego Ramos the pop singing sensation.

Once Diego is out of the picture, nothing can stop the insensitive robots from taking over the planet and wiping out the human infestation once and for all, one can merely survive the future and pick your battles.

Overall its a good film, i was on the edge of my couch for the second half and i give 4 out of 5 fuckz.

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Take out Ramen from the Uncanny Valley – by Eric Gabrielsen

Undercover of the night…

They looked enough alike to be twins which they were… paternal… tall, compact with a crown of glossy jet black hair. Twenty-seven years ago they had been pulled from a orphanage in Pusan by AKOM a Korean tech giant and groomed for deep cover in Japan. A convenient traffic accident in Kobe, a man and woman with two twin boys killed. Except the twins then survived or more to the point two boys were later found alive in the wreckage. A wealthy patron adopted them and raised and educated them in a proscribed fashion. They were hired and then rose quickly in Toshiba’s R and D which lead to being assigned to Odin’s exclusive back engineering team.

“We got it.” Leif said looking up from his screen. They had been at it for over ninety hours with just three sleep breaks and despite Akira’s and Takeshi’s subtle redirections he had broken into the crypto squirt transmitter’s operating system. It was AKOM’s benchmark setting tech and it was now compromised. As Leif linked to admin, Akira stood to block his view of his workstation as Takashi peeled the flesh toned composite from his forearm and attached to Leif’s data sink. The lab was under a mnemonic lock, any memory of what transpired within was segregated in both Akira’s and Takashi’s mind and irretrievable once they passed the threshold. The only way it could be accessed was by a code word being spoken which Leif did every time the entered but which they never retained. The composite instantly mirrored and internalized the sink’s data after which Takashi deftly reapplied smoothing it to the anterior of elbow.

Tonight, Leif’s co-researchers had oddly begged off so he had decided to solder on himself. There had been a break through today, had managed to backdoor into the operating system of a piece of crypto gear the team had spent the last six months back engineering. It was their first real progress which only added to his surprise as his assistants claimed pressing business at home. It was Leif Odin’s usual stop after locking out of Toshiba’s covert R and D that was located on the second floor of a carefully distressed pachinko parlour two blocks east. He and two of his co-researchers regularly participated in a Japanese timeworn office ritual known as nomikai which involved working their way through a war club of Sake , toasting themselves into near oblivion while stuffing themselves on the grilled chicken skewers.

Ducking his near two meter frame, he entered the Yakitory stand bringing greetings from the owner and two of the regulars. He was something off a curiosity locally, sporting a wild head of blond hair and beard that radiated gajjin, but being in country almost ten years his Japanese was without accent and excellent. He ordered a couple skewers of Yakitory and a masu of sake and slid onto the bench throwing out Konbanwas all around. The Yakitory stand Izakawawas nestled under a train line in the bustling Yarakucho neighborhood that lies in one of Tokyo’s many entertainment districts. For its walls, the owner had strung up coaxial cables to the concrete bridge supports and attached to them thick sheets of dusky painters plastic. From the outside it glowed a ghostly white, reducing the images of those inside to spectral shifting surreal smudges. Heated by a dented orange 20 year old Salamander designed by a defunct Malaysian concern roared like a tame jet engine making it warm at chest level but freezing at your feet next to it was a long table made from a chipped piece of particleboard balanced on two Tokyo public works saw horses making seating for eight , a cooking area with two butane gas rings, one that held a large dented pot kept to a full boil to heat Sake and a small brazier on which the yakatori grilled. It was Leif Odin’s usual stop after locking out of Toshiba’s covert R and D that was located on the second floor of a carefully distressed pachinko parlour two blocks east. He and two of his co-researchers regularly participated in a Japanese timeworn office ritual known as nomikai which involved working their way through a war club of Sake , toasting themselves into near oblivion while stuffing themselves on the grilled chicken skewers.

“Sumimasen.” trilled a very feminine voice. Lief looked up groggily through a veil of rice wine and forced himself to focus. He saw a young girl in traditional geisha mufti, grinning shyly though bone white face paint. “Hai” He managed. She smiled and then showed him a small black sphere that was cradled in the palm of her hand. Deftly taking it between thumb and forefinger, she squeezed it, causing a stud to pop up. Bowing, she depressed it, igniting two ounces of hexogen wrapped in fifty meters of razor sharp monofilament. A soundless flash of white filled his world.
Takashi and Akira were two blocks east of the pachinko parlour when the blast rang out. Both men turned and looked back as they practiced due to the near ubiquitous cc coverage in Japan and then continued walking. ** “Morning, Sunshine.” Leif opened his eyes and saw the same white which slowly resolved into a very Japanese hospital room which did not sync with the greetings which though in English had a distinct Dutch lilt. You sound like my grandmother. Lief said in Dutch. Danke said the yet to be identified man. Leif turned his head, pain flared down the length of his body causing him to gasp. “Easy.” Said the voice. “We had to graft almost forty-three percent of your body mass replacement tissue on top of composite scaffolding to replace what was damaged in the blast.” “Blast? That was an explosion last night?”

Three vans packed with HR retrieval and recovery showed up eleven minutes after the blast, screeching to a stop and discharging Rapids in full beetle, Bullpup assault rifles at the ready swarmed toward Akira and Takashi. The response time was thirty seconds faster than AKOM’s predicted. Takashi dropped to one knee as he ripped free a Glock Talon with extended mag and opened fire.

A tan, angular face came into Leif’s field of vision and smiled, exposing a brilliant swath of enamel, his ice blue eyes actually sparkled as he raised his hand palm outward revealing a corporate illuminare tattoo. “Jon Yuan? HR recovery?” Leif read confused. “Got it in one.” Jon said flipping over his hand to grasp Leif’s. “And you’ve been OOC for close to three months since the incident.” “Three months?” Leif asked with dawning horror. “OOC? Out of commission?” “It was a near thing, your two co-researchers had arranged your…near obliteration.” “Takashi and Akira? Who the fuck was the Geisha?” “A Korean AKOM operative, meat puppet, both Akira and Takashi AKOM deep operatives, Akira suicided before we could pick him up, but we gleaned Takashi till he was almost fuckin see-through.” Leif winced. HR was notorious for being enthusiastic. “So how much damage was there?” Lief asked as he pulled up his hospital johnnie exposing an unmarked blameless Expanse of torso. “Quite extensive but being a tier 1 employee has its benefits.” The HR exec said with a wink. “Thankfully the head trauma was minimal, the force of the blast was centred on mostly your trunk and upper thighs. The wire that wrapped the explosive was treated with a hemorrhagic enzyme, so bleeding was a issue. Once they locked you into the medical AI and got you stable, things progressed quickly. Replacement tissue was grown on cartilage scaffolding and grafted using cutting edge antivirals, recovery under a stim net for tissue regrowth and muscle tone.” “Thanks?” Lief said uncertainly. “De nada.” The HR exec said around a grin.”

The cell phone tower was disguised poorly as an Elm sat half in and out of the shadow of a shipping container condo rack. Akira ducked behind it as bullets kicked up quarter sized pieces of asphalt behind him. Pulling the composite from his arm, he slapped it to the metal of the tower, triggering an integral capacitor to discharge, punching to data up and out onto the net. The impact of a soft alloy round spun him onto his back. Stunned he watched the closing Rapid pull out the Zip cuffs.

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