It’s hard to say Idaho legislators are anti-technology, seeing as they recently made an elaborate deal with Meta to set up data centers in Kuna. Yet, two recent cryptocurrency bills and hopes for deeper relationships with Bitcoin mining companies were, for the time being, set back in the Gem State when government, private entities, and out-of-state players failed to negotiate mutually beneficial solutions to questions of energy prices.Some have wondered in the fallout if it’s not technology but Bitcoin that is the problem for politicians because the state has indeed made other deals with Big Tech work.Bills 1295 and 585, respectively, sought to expand certain rights related to distributed ledger technology and exempt crypto miners from “discriminatory” local ordinances that also do not apply to data centers.Are free-market advocates seeking to restrict private electric companies' abilities from charging crypto miners what they want? Utilities are concerned about investing in the infrastructure necessary to accommodate mining operations because of the speculative nature of the product. Meta’s deal with the state included $70 million for new water and sewage systems in the city of Kuna, where the proposed operation was established. Additional concessions/promises to the state included various “renewable energy” and jobs commitments.The existing protocols in Idaho grant sales-tax exemption to data centers if they invest $250 million or more and create at least 30 local jobs. The Meta data center in Kuna invested $800 million and foresees adding 100 new jobs.For the moment, Idaho, in conjunction with its Public Utilities Commission, has concluded that cryptocurrency mining operations are subject to price instability and do not warrant the same cooperation or exemption from Idaho regulators.Public Utilities Commission and Idaho Power likely will not strike some deal without third-party intervention. Maybe the push here in Idaho to crack wide the crypto game is just too ambitious now.At the time of this writing, it’s apparent at almost every political and economic level that the game is on pause. We need to see the results of the presidential election, of course, but then we need to see what promises do and do not manifest. The Trump train has of late signaled strong support for Bitcoin and related technologies, but which firms and personalities are tasked with implementation and how the fiat-regime summons out of the dark as countermeasures are legitimate questions.A decentralized movement still needs to operate somewhere along the line in the real world. Electricity for crypto mining must be generated, harnessed, and applied to computational work, but unless there is an entirely autonomous infrastructure, Bitcoin miners, monks, and assorted adherents will persist in their dependence upon the tenuous (and collapsing) webs of finance (read: extant power structure).Some other questions that the Idaho crypto mining legislative situation brings to the fore: Are Bitcoin miners eventually going to acquire land, infrastructure, and expertise enough to generate and distribute their own electricity? Will they be able to defend such efforts by lawfare, one presumes?If not, we know what’s in store from a globalist point of view vis-a-vis crypto. It’s CBDC but centrally controlled and tied into absolutely every possible conceivable monetary leverage point. In this scenario where technology just fails to wriggle out of classic power dynamics, you will live to see Lovecraftian tax and fee horrors heretofore deemed impossible.A visionary, just (state, local, or national) government could balance the public-private equation with some sort of citizen dividend scheme. A price structure scheme for crypto mining in Idaho eschewing typical Randian hyper-libertarian models in favor of public works and local, immediate reinvestments would go a great distance toward effecting the sort of high-minded ideals purported by crypto devotees while also securing again so much of the social capital already squandered in the past century.Is this about establishing a tax on digital property? Section 63-602L seems to imply that Idaho should now commit to not taxing such property. Why stuff that into a bill ostensibly about barring private utility companies from creating and enforcing rate castes for different types of clients?On the other hand, if we’re being realistic — if we do not embrace some sort of Randian path into the future of technology where some bold “founder” type is going to purchase his or her legal solution effectively — is Christianity a viable overlay by which a legislature could see to properly implement or manage such newfangled considerations as a digital, quasi-centralized currency (or is it a store of wealth or neither)?In this case, are free-market advocates seeking to restrict private electric companies' abilities from charging crypto miners what they want? Utilities are concerned about investing in the infrastructure necessary to accommodate mining operations because of the speculative nature of the product. Isn’t that a legitimate concern when we see the stalling, the backroom dealing, and the depth of ignorance with respect to all things crypto from the highest levels?It seems almost that the current tangle of public-private machinations we’ve experimented with may simply be outdated. Idaho is paused on the issue for the moment.

Those of us who grew up laughing at the antics of British comedy troupe Monty Python remember the film “And Now for Something Completely Different,” which compiled some of the best sketches from their hit TV series.The humor throughout “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” and their various films was inventive, original, and often unexpectedly off-the-wall.For better or worse, this election season has followed that quirky formula.None of us “of a certain age” has ever witnessed political antics like those unfolding since the disputed close of the 2020 election season. Up until that year, we had never seen anything like what happened leading up to — and beyond — Nov. 3, 2020.But just when it seemed “safe to go back in the political waters” (to borrow a line from a 1978 “Jaws 2” movie poster), something “completely different” would surface.The Democrats, in particular, seemed ready to outdo their last incredible “Gotcha!”How surprised should any of us be if the Democrats, out of total desperation in the waning days of the 2024 election, come up with something ... completely different?These are the same shysters who claimed the 2020 election was “the most secure in American history”; who locked up citizens for peacefully protesting what they saw as an obvious steal; who, by omission or commission, allowed an assassin to target a presidential candidate and former president; who insisted they are the party on the side of good and suggested that if you believe “Jesus is Lord,” you’re “at the wrong rally”; and who repeatedly used "Hitler" to describe the president who once leaned through a McDonald's window and asked, "Would you like fries with that?"Now, with just days to go, the “Hitler candidate” has surged in popularity, like the TV series “Seinfeld” in its prime. Everyone seems to be watching, eagerly awaiting the next episode. It’s a stretch, but imagine Trump as Jerry, with an intriguing new cast: RFK Jr. as George, Tulsi Gabbard as Elaine, and, yes, the wild and unpredictable Elon Musk as Kramer.All and all, this cast of characters is fun to watch.But the other show that just could not quite get it in gear, “Harris” (whose working title was “Build Back Biden”), is now bleeding ratings and is about to be canceled. So what do they do?They go back to what got them on the lineup in the first place. They are the anti-Trump cast. And they trot out old have-beens or never-were “stars” with thread-bared storylines; nefarious characters like Hillary and Obama who badly deliver their never-could-stick lines chalk full of accusations of racism, sexism, and Hitlerism.You can almost see the deep state, which is storyboarding this particular "last episode," calling in the star of the show, Kamala Harris, and laying it on the line with her.[Door opens: Harris ENTERS]D.S.: Ah, Ms. Harris. Come in. Sit down.K.H.: Yes, I will sit down on this chair that was made for sitting and on which I will then sit.[Harris SITS]D.S.: OK, look. Whatever it is you’re doing it’s not working ...K.H.: Yes, working is what we want to work here so I am working to make it work.D.S.: Shut up. Here’s what's going to happen. You are going to keep calling Trump “Hitler.” You are going to keep repeating that since we know you are good at repeating everything.K.H.: Yes, repeating what needs to be repeated —D.S.: Enough! Listen. The last time we repeated “Trump is Hitler,” we had at least two assassination attempts on his life. That means we can gin up more attempts using the same strategy. That way, by Election Day, Trump’s name may still be on the ballot but the man himself will be in the funeral home.K.H.: [Cackles]D.S.: And if Trump is not gone from this planet in the next few days — someone will be taking a shot at you.K.H.: [Stops Cackling]D.S.: You heard us. But don’t worry, we will make sure — fingers crossed — that they just nick you on the arm ... or something. Then, we will blame Trump and his MAGA crazies and say that their hateful rhetoric led to one of their own trying to destroy our Democracy. And to save our Democracy, we will disqualify Trump, jail him and anyone wearing a red hat (whether it says MAGA or not). And while you are recuperating (if you’re lucky) in the hospital, we will declare Hillary our candidate. She will win, and we will continue to fundamentally transform America and finally complete the directive initiated in 2008.K.H.: [Long pause] But ... but ... but ...D.S.: You may go.[Harris STANDS up from the chair she has been sitting in that was made for sitting in and EXITS.]This scenario is a stretch. No doubt about it.But how surprised should any of us be if the Democrats, out of total desperation in the waning days of the 2024 election, come up with something ... completely different?Editor’s note: A version of this article appeared previously at American Thinker.

The Monster Hunter Wilds beta hasn't been going down well on PC. While it's attracted a colossal number of players, there are myriad reports of crashes, bugs, and graphical problems across the board. The full launch is still four months away, though, and Capcom is assuring us that we'll be playing a very different game come 2025. If you've been playing on PC, that might look like a pretty tall order. I wouldn't worry about your beta experience too much, though, because there are already a handful of fixes for all those PS1-looking faces. Continue reading Capcom assures that the Monster Hunter Wilds launch will improve on the beta MORE FROM PCGAMESN: Monster Hunter Wilds monsters, Monster Hunter Wilds system requirements, Monster Hunter Wilds release date

It's Happening? Ron Paul Hints at Joining Elon Musk to Eradicate Government Waste

Image: Motion Twin Some of the most beloved roguelikes are single-player — the likes of Hades, Balatro, and Dead Cells are all solo titles. But Windblown, the new roguelike from Motion Twin, the studio that created Dead Cells, showed me just how cool it can be to play a roguelike with other people. In Windblown, your character, one of a few adorable animal adventurers like an axolotl or a bat, is shot out of a cannon into a mysterious giant tornado to fight your way through various zones. Like Dead Cells, you can equip up to two main weapons. I typically have one for close-range bouts and another for long-distance attacks. But with every weapon, you’re also able to pull off a combo that uses a special move from the other weapon called an “Alterattack.” H... Continue reading…

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Dick Cheney did it. Arnold Schwarzenegger did it. Adam Kinzinger did it, of course. So did Jeff Flake. Mike Pence walked right up to the edge but ultimately declined to take the plunge, but even George…

Like a bad penny, former Georgia gubernatorial candidate and election denier Stacey Abrams keeps showing up right around election time. She's as predictable as a rainy night in Georgia as she once again…

Did you miss the other parts? Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 “I’m just going to rest my eyes for a few minutes,” she thought to herself, leaning against the wall. She thought of her daughter, back home in America, staying with her best friend while her mother was away. She had to get back for Ariel. She would get back for Ariel. It felt like she had just blinked when she heard a barrage of angry Greek. She jumped to her feet and looked around frantically for the source. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep, and she was completely disoriented. An older man stood there in the dark, quivering with rage. She couldn’t understand the words but got the gist of his meaning. He appeared to be a squatter. He was visibly dirty, even in the dim light trickling through the boarded-up window, and he was thin. Joan and Savannah were reeling back in terror. Max had to fix this, and she had to fix it now. “I’m sorry!” she apologized, desperately searching her memory for one of the few Greek phrases she had memorized. “Syngnómi!” She held up her hands in a gesture she hoped was universally placating and not something obscene in Greece. The man continued his rant, waving his arms around to punctuate what he was saying. He did stop advancing on them, and Max supposed that was progress. She pulled her wallet out of her purse and offered him a twenty Euro note. He snatched it from her and held his hand out for more. She gave him the remainder of money in her wallet, another 20 and some change. She was glad she’d had the forethought to separate her money. She also offered him a bag of peanut candy she had purchased at the market and nudged Savannah to get off the rain poncho so she could hand over that as well. He accepted her offerings and retreated, glaring at them from across the room in the darkness, muttering to himself. Savannah’s eyes were wide with fright, and she shrunk away from the perceived threat. Joan also looked incredibly uncomfortable but prepared for battle if she needed to be. Their rest was over, it appeared. Max quickly and carefully memorized their new route. It was time to leave. They helped Joan out of her chair and Max could tell she was in pain. The older woman wasn’t accustomed to walking this far or this fast, especially while under stress. She backed out of the building, saying goodbye to their rather inhospitable host. “Ta léme.” She hoped it was actually a farewell wish and not something antagonistic. He chewed the candy she’d given him with his mouth open and didn’t reply. But he also didn’t chase them or throw things at them, so she considered it a win. “Oh my God,” said Savannah. “I thought he was going to kill us.” “I’m sure he was just hungry and as scared of us as we were of him,” Joan attempted to console her somewhat unconvincingly. “Yeah, I’m sure,” agreed Max, equally insincerely. She was paying more attention to her surroundings than the conversation, determined not to get lost again. She considered navigating with her phone, but her battery had dwindled to 20% and she wanted to save it in case of an emergency. “A bigger emergency,” she corrected herself mentally. “Okay, ladies,” she said out loud with forced enthusiasm. “Let’s get to the embassy! It’s just two more miles. We’re going this way.” She strode off with a feigned confidence, hoping it would make them feel better. *** It was 2 am as they trudged through the dark streets of the city. Max remembered her admonition to her daughter that nothing good ever happened after midnight. Ariel had argued vehemently that all sorts of fun and wonderful things happened in the wee hours and Max found herself hoping sincerely that her daughter was right. She, Savannah, and Joan walked in single file, staying as close as possible to the buildings and avoiding other people. It wasn’t too difficult to avoid others. The streets were mostly abandoned aside from angry clusters of people shouting outside of bars and cafes. Max wondered if they were enraged for the same reason as the people rioting and decided it was best to avoid them altogether, regardless of their reason. Because of this, the trio silently agreed to made multiple detours, looping around the block to avoid the crowds and get back on Max’s carefully planned route. They were not in a tourist area, so it felt like it was best not to engage considering the current climate in Athens. Nothing said “capitalist” like being an American and that was a dirty word, at least in Exarcheia on an evening like this. Their second mile was turning into more like two with all the detours. They could hear chaos all around them. A storm of angry shouts and chants, screams of pain, sirens, and helicopters all created a distant cacophony of sound that propelled them to keep moving, no matter how tired they felt. They were not safe. The scent of smoke was in the air. Max was thankful for her natural sense of direction and good navigational skills. As long as she focused, they were staying on track. And then the chaos was right in front of them. Max was pretty certain the place they were approaching was Exarchion Square, a public gathering place known for its anti-establishment protests and its popular outdoor cinema, Vox. The crowds here were louder, the mood more outraged. Fires burned in metal trash cans around the square. Someone had a microphone and whatever he was saying was inciting even greater fervor from the audience. It was a perfect place not to be. Max remembered some lessons from her favorite survival blogger, Selco, the guy from SHTFSchool.com. His first rule of survival was “don’t be there.”  And if you were talking about places to avoid, Exarcheia at 3 am was the Capitol of Don’t-Be-There-Land. There was no way around it. No detour that wouldn’t get them totally off-track was available, as far as Max could tell. She pulled Joan and Savannah into another alley.  “Behind there,” she pointed at a large dumpster that looked as though it hadn’t been emptied for several days. Savannah looked horrified as they made their way around the trash scattered on the ground to get behind the dumpster. Some rats fled, squealing and alarmed by the presence of the large usurpers. Ubiquitous feral cats saw their chance and gave pursuit. Savannah visibly bit back a scream and closed her eyes tightly. Joan caressed her arm maternally, trying to hide her own distaste. Max spread out another poncho then unfolded her map, not willing to put it on the ground amidst the filth. The smell of rotting food emanating from the dumpster filled the air, adding to the unpleasant atmosphere of their hiding place. “We need to hide for a while,” Max said softly. “We can’t walk through that crowd and there’s no easy way around it.” She pointed at the map. “That’s Strefi Hill ahead of us. It’s steep to go over it, and we’d go miles out of the way going around it.” Joan nodded in agreement. “You’re right.” “But do we have to wait here?” Savannah asked shakily. “Look at the bright side,” Max suggested. “Nobody is likely to come back here on purpose.” Savannah shot her the pained look that was universal among young people who thought their elders had lost their minds, but she didn’t argue. The shock of seeing Will get beaten by the police had convinced her that she was far safer sticking with Max. The three women leaned against the wall, nobody willing to sit down in such a dirty place. “At least I’m not hungry now,” Savannah offered, looking for the silver lining. As Max laughed, the sound was drowned out by approaching sirens.  It looked like they were in for another round of Police Vs. Protestors. They huddled behind the dumpster as the noises of the conflict increased. Suddenly, they could hear people coughing loudly as tear gas was sprayed at the protestors in the square. Max pulled her scarf and sunglasses out of her backpack. She’d distributed them to everyone else earlier. “Tie these over your nose and mouth and put on the sunglasses,” she ordered. “Trust me.” Distance and the protective measures acquired by Max kept them safe from the worst of it, but they didn’t dare leave their hiding place. Neither the police nor the protestors would welcome the presence of three American women tonight. Nobody was your friend in the middle of a riot. The disorder raged for what felt like hours. Glass shattered. Flames crackled, casting strange flickering shadows at the mouth of the alley. Crashes filled the air. It didn’t matter that they couldn’t understand the language when people were shouting. The rage was evident. Their break from walking was far from restful. They were plagued with the worry of being discovered. Finally, as dawn began to break, the anger began to calm. In the moments right before the sun rose it seemed as though the new day reminded those involved in the melee that they had not yet slept. If you want to read about the rest of Max’s escape from Athens, name your price for the novella here. The post Three Miles: Part 4 appeared first on The Organic Prepper.

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