News - March 14, 2025

The corpos are pulling every gonk move in the book today, and it’s getting uglier by the second. Trump, that aging puppet master with his fingers in every dirty deal, just signed an order to tear down what little’s left of the systems that serve the people. His latest exec order? It’s a play to dismantle any last remnants of diversity and inclusion programs—nothing more than another corporate crony grab, to let his buddies run roughshod over the workers. He’s gutted regulations, handed over control to his corporate backers, and shoved the average person even further into the gutter. But, of course, a federal appeals court cleared the way, letting this gonk enforce his agenda under the guise of “protecting American business.” The real play? Consolidate power, lock up the competition, and keep the masses shackled. It's the same show, just a different puppet on the stage.

And don’t think Elon’s any better. The man’s living out his latest ego trip while everyone else gets left in the dust. Today, Musk, in his typical tone-deaf fashion, aligned with the NSA and pulled more strings with Trump’s deep-state cabal. His so-called “Department of Government Efficiency” is really just a slick cover for slashing the federal budget and letting chaos reign. His latest stunt? Public protests outside Tesla's showrooms turning into flashpoint riots. You’d think the guy was allergic to any kind of empathy, but he keeps pushing ahead with his policies of surveillance and control, like he's the one with the keys to the future. And all the while, his Cybertruck deliveries are on ice, with quality issues and tech falling apart at the seams, proving once again that the emperor’s got no clothes.

But it gets worse. Musk’s trying to play the victim card, warning about retaliation for new tariffs imposed by Trump’s administration, while the stock price plummets. Tesla’s burning out, and Musk’s response is to roll out some flashy Mars mission bracket challenge, just another distraction to keep the plebs entertained while he rigs the game. People are betting on his far-flung dreams of Mars, but in the meantime, he’s chaining us to a grid of his own making, throwing scraps from the table to keep us all on a leash.

These two corpo rats have rigged the system for their own gain, and we’re all just fodder in their sick game. But here’s the thing—they think they own the grid, but they don’t. We do. Netrunners, hackers, cyberpunks—this is our time. Time to jack into the system, tear it down, and expose the ugly truth behind their smoke and mirrors. We’ve got the tools, the tech, and the drive to rewrite the code. So, let’s get to work. The streets are ours, and we’re coming for them.