News - March 24, 2025

Yo choom, you see the circus today? Trump and Musk just pulled a gonk move, thinking they can rewrite the system while we’re all too jacked into the grind to notice. Time to wake up, ‘cause these suits are locking in their dystopia, and it ain't gonna be pretty.

First up, Tesla got torched—like, real-world black smoke and sirens. Some ghost runners dropped incendiary payloads at a dealership in Austin, setting the corpos into full lockdown mode. Feds are screeching “domestic terrorism,” spinning up a black-bag task force to track the burners. Classic play: some street-level resistance goes loud, and suddenly the corps have an excuse to tighten the leash. Don’t be shocked if new “security measures” start rolling out, scanning faces, logging movements, and flagging anyone who doesn’t bend the knee to Musk’s empire.

Meanwhile, Musk’s running his mouth like he's got admin privileges over reality. Called Social Security a "Ponzi scheme," basically flashing his intent to gut the safety net and leave the old and broke twisting in the wind. Even the suits in DC are sweating—‘cause if the masses wake up and realize they’re about to get their last eddies siphoned off, things are gonna burn. The corpos need people just desperate enough to keep grinding, but not so broken they stop caring.

But the biggest gonk play? Trump and Musk just swung the axe on thousands of federal workers, all under the pretense of “efficiency cuts.” Read between the lines—it’s a purge. They’re scrapping anyone who won’t play ball, throwing in whispers about "espionage risks" to keep the fear levels high. Can’t have the dismissed grunts turning into loose ends, now can we? The real kicker? Musk’s sitting pretty in a Cabinet meeting, playing puppetmaster while Trump drools over him like a two-bit fixer begging for a corpo contract. Official title? Head of the Department of Government Efficiency—DOGE, no joke. But the real function? Slashing anything that doesn’t turn a profit. Your rights, your security, your ability to live without scraping to the bone—if it ain’t making corp eddies, it’s getting flatlined.

Jack in, chooms. The corpos are consolidating, gutting the system so only their breed of suits can thrive. They think the streets are too busy scraping by to fight back. Let’s remind ‘em why netrunners exist. Scrub their signals, ghost their surveillance, and spread the word. The system’s fragged, but that doesn’t mean we let ‘em own the wreckage. Stay sharp, stay loud, and keep the black ICE ready—it's time to run.