How to profit from Google’s ChatGPT panic

The media is reporting the rapid rise of artificial intelligence company ChatGPT threatens everything they’ve built. [View in Browser]( | November 23   [View in Browser]( | [Unsubscribe]( [Profitable Trader Tips]( November 23 Trade Smarter, Trade Profitably with our Tips for Traders! Trade Smarter, Trade Profitably with our Tips for Traders!   For the first time in history, Google has issued a “Code Red.” The media is reporting the rapid rise of artificial intelligence company ChatGPT threatens everything they’ve built. But I believe this marks the beginning of a new era for Google that could make you rich. You see, Google is about to return fire… And launch their biggest artificial intelligence project yet. It’s called “Project Gemini.” It’s being spearheaded by Google’s billionaire founders, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, who recently came out of retirement. And I’ve found a way for you to profit from this new AI project, right from your brokerage account. Westy Martin sat speechless in utter consternation. He glanced about him as if dazed. He seemed to be trying to make sure that he was awake, that the whole thing was not a dream. Then a sudden burst of shouting and applause recalled him to the reality of the clamorous scene. The scene was very real. It was a familiar scene at Temple Camp and real with the savory realities of clam chowder and hunter’s stew and crullers piled high in tin dishpans. And waffles built into miniature skyscrapers and big glass pitchers full of sirup and honey. And Pee-wee Harris shouting, “I’ll go with you, I’ll go with you, I’ll be the one!” And Uncle Jeb Rushmore sitting at the head of the “eats board” with a smile of amusement hovering under his drooping white mustache. Uncle Jeb Rushmore was one of those men who looked out of place at a dining table, even at a rustic “eats board.” By all the rules he should have eaten his meals squatting on the ground in proximity to a campfire, in the dense wilderness or on the prairie. He should never have eaten a meal without his trusty rifle by his side and without a keen eye on the lookout for stealthy Indians. He should certainly never have been waited on by a smiling negro connected with the cooking shack of a great modern camp. He should have dined in remote fastnesses, mountain passes, and in sound of the appalling voices of savage beasts. Everything about Uncle Jeb suggested not the covered table, but the covered wagon. He was an old western trapper and guide who had cooked bear’s meat with Buffalo Bill and fried his venison on silent trails while the caravan waited. That this picturesque old member of a race that has all but passed away should be sitting at the head of a camp “eats board” was the fault of Mr. John Temple, the beneficent founder of Temple Camp in the Catskills. And so Westy Martin, scout, became identified with a series of adventures which I shall chronicle for you; adventures in the wildest region of the Wild West. Such adventures as boys do not even read of in these days of football and baseball and boarding schools and Saturday hikes. It is odd, when you come to think of it, how things happen. That Westy Martin should participate in adventures which in these days are commonly thought too extravagant even for boy’s stories! Yet this thing happened and it should be told. If the worst that can be said about it is that it is a wild-west story I will gladly bear the responsibility of telling it to my young friends. To go back to where I started—they were having dinner at Temple Camp. It was Labor Day and soon the camp would close for the season. Mr. John Temple was its guest, as he usually was just before the season closed. He was standing at the head of the main “eats board” and it was something which he had just said in the course of his remarks that had set Westy Martin aghast. There were three of these “eats boards” in a vast open pavilion. The middle one was larger than the two that flanked it, and it was at the head of this large, rustic table that the guest of honor had been seated. At the head of Westy’s table sat Uncle Jeb in his accustomed place. And at the head of the other sat Mr. Bronson, resident trustee. Somewhat removed from these three enormous dining boards was another rough table for scoutmasters. In that great scout community some troops cooked their own meals near their cabins, but all were crowded in the “eats” pavilion on this memorable day in honor of the distinguished visitor. “And now one word more,” said Mr. Temple. “It is both good news and bad news. Those of you who come next summer will not see Uncle Jeb.” Murmurs of surprise and apprehension greeted this announcement. “Uncle Jeb is going home, not to stay, but to visit for a season his beloved Montana and his old cabin, those scenes which I took him from to bring him here. I think you will all agree—our trustees have already agreed—that Uncle Jeb is entitled to visit his old home. He expects to return here next fall or, at the latest, early the following spring. He has said that he will do that, and as you know Uncle Jeb always hits the mark. He aims to be back with you after next summer and I never heard anybody ever say that he missed his aim.” This remark was greeted with laughter and applause. “There is one thing more,” said Mr. Temple. “It has been thought that Uncle Jeb’s sojourn might afford a couple of our scouts an opportunity to visit the woolly West; I mean the regular West with all its wool on; the West that Uncle Jeb knows and which he once showed me. Uncle Jeb himself seems to like that idea. So I suggested that he be asked to choose one of the boys he knows best to go with him, and that this fortunate boy be permitted to choose a comrade in the great adventure. Uncle Jeb has named Westy Martin of the First Bridgeboro Troop of Bridgeboro, New Jersey. Westy Martin,” Mr. Temple added, glancing about, “wherever you are, I congratulate you.” “There he is, third from the end, eating a waffle!” thundered the uproarious voice of Pee-wee Harris, “and I’ll be the one to go with him!” So you see how it was. Uncle Jeb was seven years older than when he had come to cast the glow of pioneer and western romance over Temple Camp. But his eye was just as keen and his aim was just as true as in the days when he had hunted grizzlies and struck terror to Indians in his beloved Rockies. For those keen gray eyes had seen Westy Martin and picked him out and knocked him clean off his feet, in a way of speaking.... I’ve put all the details in a new presentation you can find [here](. And if you’re wondering how I know this information… Google paid me over $1.5 million in 2022 ([click here to see the 1099 tax form that proves it](. And through my knowledge of Google, I’ve discovered a company that’s supplying a key piece of technology that makes Google’s new AI project possible. I’m confident anyone who gets shares in this Google supplier today could see massive gains. But you need to act now. Lyndon Johnson Biography Lyndon Johnson was the 36th President of the US from 1963 to 1969 – one of the most turbulent and influential periods in American politics. Lyndon Johnson helped to implement the ‘Great Society’ reforms – extending welfare support and implementing civil rights legislation. He also presided over the escalation of American involvement in the Vietnam War which proved increasingly controversial. Lyndon Johnson Johnson was born on August 27, 1908, in central Texas. Growing up in the Great Depression, he gained a first-hand perspective on poverty, and the Great Society reforms he later implemented were an attempt to make this kind of poverty a thing of the past. In 1937, aged only 29, Johson successfully won election to the House of Representatives. During the Second World War, he served in the Navy, winning the Silver Star for service in the Pacific. In 1948, he was elected to the Senate, and by 1953, had become the youngest ever Minority House Leader. He worked closely with Dwight D Eisenhower and helped to get some of his policies through the Senate. In 1960, he stood as Vice President to the youthful In the 1959 election, he stood as Vice President to the youthful John F Kennedy. The idea was that the Protestant, southern Johnson would make a dream ticket to accompany the northern Catholic liberal, John F. Kennedy. In 1959, one of the tightest ever elections, JFK-Johnson were elected, defeating Richard Nixon. The three years of the Kennedy presidency proved turbulent, with the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Cold War dominating foreign policy. America also started to become involved in aiding the South Vietnamese against their northern Communist enemies. In 1963, JFK was assassinated, while visiting Dallas, Texas – Johnson’s home state. Shortly after, Johnson was sworn in as Vice President and addressed a shocked nation. “This is a sad time for all people. We have suffered a loss that cannot be weighed. For me, it is a deep, personal tragedy. I know the world shares the sorrow that Mrs. Kennedy and her family bear. I will do my best; that is all I can do. I ask for your help and God’s.” (22 November 1963) In 1964, Lyndon Johnson was re-elected in a landslide for the Democrats. In this period, America became more involved in the Vietnam war – switching from providing intelligence to bombing positions in the north and putting American troops on the ground. JFK’s and Lyndon Johnson’s secretary of defence, Robin McNamara, suggested that if JFK had lived, American involvement in Vietnam would have decreased. But, with the Gulf of Tonkin resolution of 1964, Johnson gained a free hand from Congress to take greater involvement in the Vietnam war. He said in 1965, “I do not find it easy to send the flower of our youth, our finest young men, into battle.” But the war was increasingly escalated, and the casualties mounted. The conflict also became increasingly unpopular and costly to the American people. By 1968, there were widespread protests and civil disobedience in protest at the war. On a domestic front, Johnson was able to pass more legislation through Congress as part of his Great Society reforms. This included extended welfare support for poorer Americans. For example, millions of elderly people benefited through the 1965 Medicare amendment to the Social Security Act. Johnson also enacted civil rights legislation to protect in law, equal rights independent of a person’s ethnic group. In 1965, he introduced the Voting Rights Act. “Every American citizen must have the right to vote…Yet the harsh fact is that in many places in this country men and women are kept from voting simply because they are Negroes… No law that we now have on the books…can insure the right to vote when local officials are determined to deny it… There is no Constitutional issue here. The command of the Constitution is plain. There is no moral issue. It is wrong—deadly wrong—to deny any of your fellow Americans the right to vote in this country. There is no issue of States’ rights or National rights. There is only the struggle for human rights.” (15th March 1965 However, the new legislation often didn’t change the situation on the ground, and there were growing civil rights protests at continued racial discrimination. Martin Luther King led non-violent protests, though increasingly others, such as Malcolm X wanted more radical action. Lyndon Johnson shocked American by not standing for re-election in the 1968 election. He died of a heart attack in 1973. Google is rushing to catch up to ChatGPT. And their new AI project is going live as we speak. Over 92% of internet users use Google. That’s 4.3 billion people. And I believe as Google rolls out this new AI project to all these people, [this little-known supplier could skyrocket.]( This will impact a LOT of people. And it could make a lot of people rich in the process. But this roll-out will only happen once. [Get the details here before it’s too late.]( This time Westy uttered a cry, even if only one of surprise, but still a cry and it awakened the little slumbering camp. He had paddled back to shore by the time Uncle Jeb and Artie reached there. Telling them of his discovery, they jumped into the canoe and went back to the spot. The skeletons were still floating there all right and with the aid of their paddles the boys succeeded in pushing the spooky-looking things onto shore. Needless to say another night was lost in which to sleep, but they were in no mood to lie down in peaceful slumber after looking at anything like that. Lying on the shore side by side in the yellow moonlight, they were a weird and ghastly sight. Westy bent down and saw that around the neck of one was an object of some kind. He touched it carefully and then again. Taking out his trusty penknife, he cut the string that held it, not caring to touch the poor creature with his bare hands. As it came off, and Westy held it up, he saw to his surprise that it was an oil-skin wallet. No wonder it had stayed intact while the flesh of its owner had deteriorated into nothingness! He held it up in the light while Uncle Jeb and Artie gathered around him. It was air-tight all right and Westy found, when he finally got it open, that it contained papers; probably some important, official documents, they thought. While the moon was bright it was not light enough to see clearly and so be able to read them. When morning came and breakfast was finished, Westy brought the papers out. The writing was pretty unintelligible now, but still Westy could make out words here and there. He gasped with astonishment and read aloud to his dumbfounded listeners. Mr. John Temple’s name was mentioned, as representing a certain railroad, and giving him the right of way over a certain tract of ground belonging to one Ezra Knapp, for a given consideration. It all ran along those lines and there was at least enough decipherable to know what it was all about. “It’s the agreement!” exclaimed Uncle Jeb, “thet Mr. Temple felt so bad over losing!” “Then⸺” before Artie could finish Westy broke in. “They must be the skeletons of the lost surveyors!” How those poor men met their death in that watery grave is not known, probably never will be, but it is a certainty, as Westy remarked, that no matter how useless Ollie Baxter’s life may have been, his death was timely and for some good purpose. Westy figured that the force of Ollie’s body in striking bottom must have disturbed those two skeletons, lying there through all those years, sending them floating to the top, while his remained on bottom. At any event Ollie Baxter has never been seen again, but he surely did Westy a good turn in doing what he did. They telegraphed from Eagle City the next day, to Mr. Temple, of Westy’s wonderful find. It meant great rejoicing to Mr. Temple and before he left Bridgeboro for the West, he called on Westy’s father. He told Mr. Martin what a big thing it had been for his son to have unearthed the agreement. He went on to say that it meant one of the biggest business deals of the day and that they would surely have to reward him. Mr. Martin said he spoke for Westy and knew that his son wouldn’t think of any such thing, but was only too happy to have rendered Mr. Temple that service. After Mr. Temple had left, promising to bring the boys safely back with him, Mrs. Martin looked at her husband, eyes gleaming with pride. “With all your shouting,” she said smilingly, “about that boy’s romanticism and lack of business ideas he’s proven himself a bigger and better business man than you are!” “My dear!” said Mr. Martin with good-humor, “don’t rub it in! I know when I’m licked!” One morning, a few days later, Westy and Mr. Temple stood looking up toward the precipice. The older man was telling this wonder-scout that everything was settled and in readiness to continue where they had to leave off ten years ago. The cliff, he told him, with its little tragic hollow would be dynamited within the next two months to make way for the interests of bigger and better business. “So, what do you think of your accomplishments, Westy?” Mr. Temple asked, waving his hand over toward the Pass and then to the Cliff. “Well,” replied Westy, smiling, “I guess that’s that!” Regards, Colin Tedards Editor, Brownstone Research Ivan Sulyma (Polish: Iwan Sulima, Ukrainian: Іван Михайлович Сулима – Ivan Mykhailovych Sulyma) was a Senior of Registered Cossacks in 1628–29 and a Kosh Otaman in 1630–1635. Life and death Son of Mykhailo Sulyma, Ivan came from a petty noble (szlachta) family. He was born in Rohoshchi (next to Chernihiv). He served as an estate overseer for Stanisław Żółkiewski and later the family of Daniłowicze who inherited his lands; for that service in 1620 he was awarded three villages: Sulimówka, Kuczakiw and Lebedyn. All the villages today belong to the Boryspil Raion, Kyiv Oblast. His sons included Stepan (died 1659), a captain of Boryspil company, and Fedir (died 1691), a colonel of Pereiaslav regiment. He became popular among the unregistered Cossacks, leading them on campaigns to plunder Crimea and other Ottoman vassal territories. For organizing a revolt on an Ottoman slave galley and freeing Christian slaves[1] he received a medal from Pope Paul V himself. Eventually, Sulyma reached the rank of the hetman, which he held from 1628 to 1629 and 1630 to 1635.   This editorial email containing advertisements was sent to {EMAIL} because you subscribed to this service. To stop receiving these emails, unsubscribe](. Polaris Advertising welcomes your feedback and questions. But please note: The law prohibits us from giving personalized advice. To contact Us, call toll free Domestic/International: [+1 (302) 499-2858](tel:+13024992858) Mon–Fri, 9am–5pm ET, or email us support@polarisadvertising.com. 124 Broadkill Rd 4 Milton, DE 19968. 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