PS5 (🎮) Controller Drives Prototype Car [January 24]

Gaming Tech Meets Driving: PS5 Controller Powers Prototype Car in Astonishing Video! January 24 [View Online]( [stockshiftstrategies logo]( THE cabin in which I found myself was small and rather untidy. A youngish man with flaxen hair, a bristly straw-coloured moustache, and a dropping nether lip, was sitting and holding my wrist. For a minute we stared at each other without speaking. He had watery grey eyes, oddly void of expression.   [stockshiftstrategies logo](   +1 (302) 499-2858 stockshiftstrategies.com 124 Broadkill Rd 4 Milton, DE 19968   Wow… Advancements in technology are ever-changing... Have you witnessed the remarkable video showcasing a prototype car being operated using a PS5 controller? [Video preview]( Tesla just keeps blasting HIGHER. It’s why [this trader is now convinced]( we’re at the BEGINNING of another epic rally. [Go here to see what he’s telling everyone to do right now.]( You are receiving this editorial email with advertisements at {EMAIL} because you opted in for this service. If you wish to discontinue receiving these emails, please click on the [unsubscribe link](. Polaris Advertising welcomes your feedback and questions. But please note: The law prohibits us from giving personalized advice. To ensure our emails continue reaching your inbox, please add our email address to your address book. To contact Us, call toll free Domestic/International: +1 (302) 499-2858 Mon–Fri, 9am–5pm ET, or email us support@stockshiftstrategies.com. 124 Broadkill Rd 4 Milton, DE 19968. Any reproduction, copying, or redistribution of our content, in whole or in part, is prohibited without written permission from Polaris Advertising. © 2024 Polaris Advertising. All rights reserved. [Logo]( But Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his. He plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge’s sons; he escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge’s daughters, on long twilight or early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge’s feet before the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge’s grandsons on his back, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through wild adventures down to the fountain in the stable yard, and even beyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the terriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly ignored, for he was king,—king over all creeping, crawling, flying things of Judge Miller’s place, humans included. His father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge’s inseparable companion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was not so large,—he weighed only one hundred and forty pounds,—for his mother, Shep, had been a Scotch shepherd dog. Nevertheless, one hundred and forty pounds, to which was added the dignity that comes of good living and universal respect, enabled him to carry himself in right royal fashion. During the four years since his puppyhood he had lived the life of a sated aristocrat; he had a fine pride in himself, was even a trifle egotistical, as country gentlemen sometimes become because of their insular situation. But he had saved himself by not becoming a mere pampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down the fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing races, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver. And this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the Klondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North. But Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel, one of the gardener’s helpers, was an undesirable acquaintance. Manuel had one besetting sin. He loved to play Chinese lottery. Also, in his gambling, he had one besetting weakness—faith in a system; and this made his damnation certain.