Hostile Takeover Quotes

If my Master is lost, I'll find him. I'll lead him back to himself, because to serve doesn't always mean to follow.

The world I remember was tired and racist and volatile as hell, ripe for a hostile takeover by a shit regime. We were already divided. The conquering was easy.

Tony poured wine into each glass and handed one to Claire. “Do you remember when we had wine at the Red Wing?” Claire closed her eyes, recalling the scene from a lifetime ago, and nodded. “I do.” “I’d been watching you for years. I was so nervous that night. I thought I was planning your acquisition.” He looked into his red liquid. Her stance straightened, “If you’re using business metaphors, may I suggest hostile takeover. It’s more appropriate.

Hey, if hostile battleship takeovers were easy, everybody would do it.

Not when the last time he was happy, he was plotting a hostile takeover of half the paranormal world.” “You wound me. It was at least three-quarters.

I was crying on the back-porch swing. You came out with a corsage of fresh forget-me-nots and roses, and a handkerchief. You told me any guy worth my time would always come to me with flowers and a handkerchief. One to make me smile, and the other to dry my tears, because a smart guy knows women need to cry as much as they need to laugh.

Essentially, the whole time I’d been here, the security staff hadn’t been paid. I would have been harassing the management too, though I probably would have started with a discussion and not so much jumping straight to peeing on someone’s bed. You have to work up to that sort of thing. Still, I had essentially staged a hostile takeover, which did kind of explain why they’d been going on the offensive.

Some women spent years planning their wedding. Marcella had spent the last decade planning a hostile takeover.

This wasn’t romance. This was a hardcore Master out and out driving her to the upper level of madness, where her body was going to come completely to pieces before he was done. Cruel, but she craved his brand of cruelty.

He always kept his shit together. He was the fucking foam on the latte that rose above all of it. He’d been there for them whenever they needed him, always. He hadn’t let his friends down. But at this moment, he resented the hell out of every one of them.

Little things matter far more than big ones. We remember them longer. We can’t control the big things. If you think about what’s happened in the past, it will be the small moments that come to the forefront, not the big transitions. The big things were just history. The small moments are yours. The books those monks printed are still preserved centuries after they were gone. Little things matter.

In particular, the virtues and ambitions called forth by war are unlikely to find expression in liberal democracies. There will be plenty of metaphorical wars—corporate lawyers specializing in hostile takeovers who will think of themselves as sharks or gunslingers, and bond traders who imagine, as in Tom Wolfe’s novel The Bonfire of the Vanities, that they are “masters of the universe.” (They will believe this, however, only in bull markets.) But as they sink into the soft leather of their BMWs, they will know somewhere in the back of their minds that there have been real gunslingers and masters in the world, who would feel contempt for the petty virtues required to become rich or famous in modern America. How long megalothymia will be satisfied with metaphorical wars and symbolic victories is an open question. One suspects that some people will not be satisfied until they prove themselves by that very act that constituted their humanness at the beginning of history: they will want to risk their lives in a violent battle, and thereby prove beyond any shadow of a doubt to themselves and to their fellows that they are free. They will deliberately seek discomfort and sacrifice, because the pain will be the only way they have of proving definitively that they can think well of themselves, that they remain human beings.

she will allow me to ensure her happiness and protect her. In return, I won’t stage a hostile takeover of Earth. I will do something I have seldom done throughout my military career. I will negotiate. I will be open to discussion

For all the clever jokes that could be made here involving "mind" and "matter" there is one sure and certain variation you can take with you to the grave: "In the grand scheme of things you don't matter very much, and the laws of physics don't mind at all.

Throughout history, more has been lost to over-eager zealots than to mediocre slackers. A slacker leaves well enough alone. A zealot, a true patriot or company man, will keep pushing and pushing and pushing until the situation is screwed up beyond all recognition. If not properly motivated and constrained, a zealot is the most destructive force of all.

I want you to say it. ‘I am so beautiful and sexy that I make Dmitri come in his dreams for me.’ Say it.” He hissed in her ear.

Wait,” Dion said. “You just defeated an assassin with a hostile takeover?” “I use the cards dealt to me.

SOME women spent years planning their wedding. Marcella had spent the last decade planning a hostile takeover.

As she walked, trying to find a hotel--any hotel--she was offered at least ten different ways of getting high, four or five ways of getting laid, and at least one way of getting even.

The 2016 presidential election was already surreal—a former reality TV host fueled by white backlash had completed a hostile takeover of the Republican Party—before the bears emerged.

Topper had once heard a saying, "If you set out on the path to revenge, first dig two graves." But things worked a little differently in the savage dwarf's head. So, he had remembered it like this, "If you set out on the path to revenge, first pour two glasses." And that's exactly what he did.

Finding that one person,” he added, touching her hand to bring her gaze back to him, “it’s a shift of paradigm that changes everything. What we always thought we wanted, what we know, what we don’t. But when it clicks into place, that’s also when everything makes sense, often for the very first time of our lives.

Or maybe there's one thing to say, about the capitalism of the heart, the belief that the essence of life too can be seized and hoarded, that you can corner the market on confidence, stage a hostile takeover of happiness.

When people ask about relationships, they always say, "How did you guys meet?" Not, "OMG, tell me about your third year! And when a relationship is in trouble, the desperate couple is always trying to recapture the magic of when they first met. The real tragedy is that, without time travel or amnesia, it's impossible to ever get back there. Which is why to most people, marriage is about as magical as watching David Copperfield make Claudia Schiffer disappear.

Look.” I pointed. “Shin-Tethys as a whole maintains a positive trade surplus with the rest of the system. A third of the local nations don’t export directly, but there’s a lot of internal, intramural trade between the tribes—the main six exporters account for eighty-two percent of the uranium and fifty-seven percent of the rare earths. What comes in is, well, lots of skilled labor, finished high-tech assemblies, anything that needs microgravity or vacuum or very high temperatures or an anaerobic environment. In other words, it’s your typical pattern for an energy-exporting planet, with the added twist that because it’s very damp, a lot of planetary surface activities—smelting metals, manufacturing ceramics—are expensive to perform locally. The only interesting thing is how little slow money is going into their economic system. As for banking corruption, there’s the usual, but no more than the usual. Around one government per decade—out of nearly five hundred, mind—gets into bad trouble one way or another. But the system is self-stabilizing: What usually happens is that a consortium of their trading partners and main creditors get together and mount a hostile takeover—I believe they call it a “war”—and place the defaulter under administration until it digs itself out of the hole.

I’ve gone from being prey he’s caught to shelter he’s found.

A sense of goodness was my mom’s way of deciding what to do about any given situation. Does it feel good when you picture that outcome?

Though David knew his company was in trouble, the hostile takeover had to have blindsided him. Derek couldn’t help but gloat that David had walked into his former offices today only to be met by Derek’s security. Oh, yes, Derek been tempted to be there, to be sitting in the man’s former chair, just to see his reaction. He’d barely been able to stop himself, but he had plenty of time to wallow

O, lawdy, seems you don’t got good radar when it comes to pickin’ ‘em,” Elvira muttered. “No, her radar is beyond not good. Her radar is also not malfunctioning. It’s straight out broke,” Martha agreed and I was wondering if perhaps Elvira and Martha were not such a good match. Denver was relatively peaceful. I’d never heard of riots or sieges or militant hostile takeovers of land and I was foreseeing this if these two got together and rallied the female population of the Denver Metropolitan Area as a protest to shelter all women against dickhead assholes.

Think of the many articles one can find every year in the Wall Street Journal describing some entrepreneur or businessman as being a "pioneer" or a "maverick" or a "cowboy." Think of the many times these ambitious modern men are described as "staking their claim" or boldly pushing themselves "beyond the frontier" or even "riding into the sunset." We still use this nineteenth-century lexicon to describe our boldest citizens, but it's really a code now, because these guys aren't actually pioneers; they are talented computer programmers, biogenetic researchers, politicians, or media monguls making a big splash in a fast modern economy. But when Eustace Conway talks about staking a claim, the guy is literally staking a goddamn claim. Other frontier expressions that the rest of us use as metaphors, Eustace uses literally. He does sit tall in the saddle; he does keep his powder dry; he is carving out a homestead. When he talks about reining in horses or calling off the dogs or mending fences, you can be sure that there are real horses, real dogs or real fences in the picture. And when Eustace goes in for the kill, he's not talking about a hostile takeover of a rival company; he's talking about really killing something.

Tell me you're not going to do anything stupid." "I'm not that kind of guy, Peter." "Not usually, no. But I've seen the look you've got in your eyes. A guy so consumed with his demons he'd throw himself on a min to escape it. Then they send the little polished medal home to the people who love him. You've got a lot of people who care about you, Ben. Don't do that to them. If you don't trust yourself tonight, then let me shadow you." Ben sighed, looked back out in the darkness. "Fine, but keep a distance. I don't want anyone to think we're dating." "No chance of that. I wouldn't be caught dead dating an ambulance chaser.

Whoa, whoa, calm down, everyone!” I said. “Lemme try to talk to them and see what’s up?” “What’s up? Don’t you see what’s up?” said Devlin. “They’re about to fire on us!” “But they haven’t yet. Just chill and let me salvage this.” I stepped out in front of Devlin’s shield. “I said do not take one step further!” yelled the announcer. “Hey, hey, remember me?” I said. “It’s Steve.” “You! What’s the meaning of this?!” “Of what?” “This army! Why did you bring an army to our doorstep?!” yelled the announcer. “Uh, I’m here on business. Is the Skeleton King in? Can I speak to him?” I asked. “I speak for our king! Now tell me what’s the meaning of this army?! Is it war you want?!” “What?! No, no, not at all! I’m telling you, we’re here on business!” “What kind of business?! The hostile takeover business?!” “No, no, you got it all wrong!” “We were kind to your people. We took you in and this is how you repay us? With a hostile takeover?!” “No! I’m serious! We’re not here to overthrow you!” “Why else would you bring such a huge army?!” “They’re here for another fight!” “Yeah, right! You mean the fight that’s going to start right after we let you past our walls?!” “What?! No!” Then the announcer turned around and said, “Bring out the golem!” “The golem? Is he talking about Bob?” I said to Devlin. “Probably,” replied the paladin. Then Alex came up to me. “Steve, you need to deescalate this situation quickly before it gets out of hand.” I nodded. “You’re right, yeah.” Some skeleton guards brought out Bob to the front of the wall. He was all chained up. “Bob!” I yelled at the sight of my friend in bindings. “Steve! What’s going on?!” said Bob. “They think we’re here to fight them,” I said. “Now tell us the truth or we’ll beat this golem!” said the announcer. Bob chuckled. “Beat me? It’s not like you guys could hurt me.” “Bob, be quiet!” I yelled. “You’re not helping. Just let me deal with them.” “Quit your stalling and start explaining!” yelled the announcer.  “Dude! We’re not here to fight. We’re not here to take over your home. I’m telling you the truth! This is a huge misunderstanding,” I explained.  “Bring out the girl!” yelled the announcer. “The girl? Is he talking about Emily?” I said softly. “She’ll make him speak the truth!” Some skeleton guards dragged out Emily. She was kicking and screaming all over the place. Her arms were also tied behind her back like Bob’s. “Unhand me, you stupid skeletons!” yelled Emily. “Emily!” I yelled. “Steve!” “Let her go!” “Tell me the truth, or else she’s going to get it!” yelled the announcer as he drew out a stone sword and pointed it at Emily’s throat.

Hostile takeovers could be so awkward!

His order cited "credible evidence" that a takeover "threatens to impair the national security of the US".Qualcomm was already trying to fend off Broadcom's bid.The deal would have created the world's third-largest chipmaker behind Intel and Samsung.It would also have been the biggest takeover the technology koo50 sector had ever seen.The presidential order said: "The proposed takeover of Qualcomm by the Purchaser (Broadcom) is prohibited. and any substantially equivalent merger. acquisition. or takeover. whether effected directly or indirectly. is also prohibited."Crown jewelSome analysts said President Trump's decision was more about competitiveness and winning the race for 5G technology. than security concerns.The sector is in a race to develop chips for the latest 5G wireless technology. and Qualcomm was considered by Broadcom a significant asset in its bid to gain market share.Image captionQualcomm has already showcased 1Gbps mobile internet speeds using a 5G chip"Given the current political climate in the US and other regions around the world. everyone is taking a more conservative view on mergers and acquisitions and protecting their own domains." IDC's Mario Morales. vice president of enabling technologies and semiconductors told the BBC."We are all at the start of a race. and you have 5G as a crown jewel that everyone wants to participate in - and every region is racing towards that." he said."We don't want to hinder someone like Qualcomm so that they can't provide the technology to the vendors that are competing within that space."US investigates Broadcom's Qualcomm bidQualcomm rejects Broadcom takeover bidHuawei's US smartphone deal collapsesSingapore-based Broadcom had been pursuing San Diego-based Qualcomm for about four months.Last week however. Broadcom's hostile takeover bid was put under investigation by the Committee on Foreign Investment in the US. a multi-agency led by the US Treasury Department.The US company had rejected approaches from its rival on the grounds that the offer undervalued the business. and also that any takeover would face antitrust hurdles.Earlier this year. Chinese telecoms giant Huawei said it had not been able to strike a deal to sell its new smartphone via a US carrier. widely believed to be AT&T.The US also recently blocked the $1.2bn sale of money transfer firm Moneygram to China's Ant Financial. the digital payments arm of Alibaba.

hostile takeovers should be allowed, two-thirds would have said no,” Flom said. “Now, the vote would be almost unanimously yes.” Companies

Yeah, not anymore. From now on, this place is called Pallet Town.

Every time I have to make a choice,” he said, “I feel the weight of making the right one—not just for the moment, not just for me, but for how my decisions will affect everyone. I’m terrified I’ll do something, or not do something, and the consequences will be terrible.

He suggested that we build a Money Hall of Fame out here, with busts of the arbitrageurs and hostile-takeover specialists and venture capitalists and investment bankers and golden handshakers and platinum parachutists in niches, with their statistics cut into stone—how many millions they had stolen legally in how short a time.

There’s nothing polite about Wall Street. Nothing fair, nothing civilized. Players date the way they do business—hostile takeovers, backdoor deals, threats, bribes, extortion…

Or maybe there's one thing to say, about the capitalism of the heart, the belief that the essences of life too can be seized or hoarded, that you can corner the market on confidence, stage a hostile takeover of happiness.

You will be mine.” His low tone sounded both like a threat and a promise. “You will belong to me. Whether I rent out your asshole to kinky friends or we have a quiet night in, you’ll never doubt who your Owner is.” My God.

Grey Blackwood was willing to give up a twenty-million-dollar property in exchange for two weeks of my company, but the joke was on him because I would have gone home with him for free.

Grey: I need you to pick up my new suit from Brooks Brothers on 6th. Jenny had something come up. Me: New phone, who dis? Grey: Do you get beat up a lot?

Your father will be at the house party?" "He wasn't planning on going, but as soon as he finds out you and I will be there together, he'll change his plans. I have no doubt." The party would be excruciating with Warren York there. "And you don't trust him enough with the truth." Ellison nodded. "No way. He would tell me it wasn't worth it. He'd rather lose the company, lose everything, than imagine the two of us happily together, even if it's fake. Appearances are everything to him." I ground my teeth together again. "He hates me that much?" Ellison brushed past me to set his bottle next to mine by the sink. On his way out of the kitchen, he looked back over his shoulder. "No. He hates me that much." And then he disappeared down the hall.

The Blackwood Scholarship fund was established over ten years ago, Mr. Blackwood. It was my brother's project and one of the reasons we started this school in the first place. Half of our students are here on a Blackwood Scholarship." The sound of Marcel's sigh faded as the room around me wobbled and dipped. I sat back down in a graceless heap.

should not be seen as hostile takeovers is the transaction of Leeds Castle concerning William Leyburn. His father, Roger, was a key ally in the Barons’ War, and had been involved in helping with Eleanor’s early property transactions; exploitation of the son would therefore be most unlikely. But the mutually beneficial nature of the transaction is actually demonstrated by Eleanor obtaining pardons of William and Roger’s debts to the Jewry and to the Exchequer.

I couldn’t fathom how we’d gone from unbridled fucking and intimate confessions the night before to the taciturn setting of a hostile business takeover at dinner.

When you're on your own as a youngster, you're fresh meat and there's a line of cannibals just waiting to fire up the grill.

Instead of getting my gold retirement watch and landing on my feet with a white picket fence and a satellite dish, I ended up base-jumping from the kettle into the fire. All because of one last job. But what's done is done. If your interested, you can read about the whole hot mess in The Intern's Handbook. You won't find it at Barnes & Noble, but I hear the feds have a few copies lying around, and I wouldn't be surprised if you could download it for free on Russian iTunes. I'm told it's an excellent beach/airplane/bathroom/killing-time-after-a-motel-tryst read.

So, like the knights of old, I suited up in my trusty intern armor - brownish-green suit, sensible cap-toed oxfords, white button-down, and omnipresent LensCrafters glasses. If I wasn't able to shoot her, I could probably bore her to death.

I felt the blood drain out of my face. The whole thing was a setup-the FBI mole, the mystery client...I knew the what but the why was what I was trying to Scooby-Doo as we hurtled to an uncertain fate in the back of Zhen's limo. It must have been a play for HR, revenge for our hostile takeover.

He was a self-righteous know-it-all who had the breath of a dung beetle, a gray ponytail he barely pulled together from the bozo ring of hair clinging to his balding, freckled dome, and loved to drink, of all things, tea. Usually it was some sickly sweet-smelling herbal crap that was made in the hippie wasteland of Boulder, Colorado. The box was festooned with the image of a happy, dancing bear in a field of multicolored flowers and the tea had some idiotic name like Tai Chai. After work one evening, I snatched the box of tea bags from the break room and changed the recipe. I wasn't really worried that any other employees would use one of the tea bags because NO ONE DRINKS FUCKING TEA AT WORK, especially not the totally useless, noncaffeinated fairy tears reserved for old maids to sip while they watch Murder, She Wrote in bed with their legion of cats.

Wilson had a compelling reason for having recommended Herlihy: He had been involved in some of the biggest takeover battles in corporate America. Earlier in the year he had helped advise JP Morgan Chase in its acquisition of Bear Stearns. His firm—Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz—was synonymous with corporate warfare. One of its founding partners, Martin Lipton, had devised among the most famous of antitakeover defenses, the “poison pill.” If Treasury was planning a government-led hostile takeover—the first in history—then Herlihy was certainly the lawyer they wanted.

Over the next couple of years, we built and tested a series of prototypes, started dialogues with leading manufacturers, and added business development and technical staff to our team, including mechanical and aerospace engineers. Our plan was that PAX scientific would be an intellectual-property-creating R & D company. When we identified appropriate market sectors, we would license our patents to outside entrepreneurs or to our own, purpose-built, subsidiaries. Given my previous experience on the receiving end of hostile takeovers, we were determined to maintain control of PAX Scientific and its subsidiaries in their development stages. Creating subsidiaries that were market specific would help, since new investors could buy stock in a more narrowly focused business, without direct dilution of the parent company. We were introduced to fellow Bay Area resident Paul Hawken. A successful entrepreneur, author, and articulate advocate for sustainability and natural capitalism, Paul understood our vision of a parent company that concentrated on research and intellectual property, while separate teams focused on product commercialization. With his own angel investment backing, Paul established a series of companies to market computer, industrial, and automotive fans. PAX assigned worldwide licenses to these companies in exchange for up-front fees and a share of revenue; Paul hired managers and set off to sell fan designs to manufacturers.

Yahweh the Father then spoke the words from heaven, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Those words were an allusion to a well-known messianic psalm of David where Yahweh spoke to the coming King.   “You are my Son; today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, and the ends of the earth your possession.”   But justice and inheritance were not merely a passive receiving of land rights. It was a hostile takeover from inhabitants that would not give up without a fight. The second part of that prophecy did not bode well for the powers of the earth.   You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.” Now therefore, O kings, be wise; be warned, O rulers of the earth. Serve Yahweh with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and you perish in the way, for his wrath is quickly kindled.   But that was not the only Scripture of such ominous foreboding.

Goddammit. I hate when crying just happens to you Like when you're being yelled at by someone or you're very nervous, there's a hostile takeover of your face and chest and all of a sudden you're a crying baby.

Ricardo’s other necessary condition for comparative advantage is that a country’s capital seeks its comparative advantage in its home country and does not seek more productive use abroad. Ricardo confronts the possibility that English capital might migrate to Portugal to take advantage of the lower costs of production, thus leaving the English workforce unemployed, or employed in less productive ways. He is able to dismiss this undermining of comparative advantage because of “the difficulty with which capital moves from one country to another” and because capital is insecure “when not under the immediate control of its owner.” This insecurity, “fancied or real,” together “with the natural disinclination which every man has to quit the country of his birth and connections, and entrust himself, with all his habits fixed, to a strange government and new laws, check the emigration of capital. These feelings, which I should be sorry to see weakened, induce most men of property to be satisfied with a low rate of profits in their own country, rather than seek a more advantageous employment for their wealth in foreign lands.”   Today, these feelings have been weakened. Men of property have been replaced by corporations. Once the large excess supplies of Asian labor were available to American corporations, once Congress limited the tax deductibility of CEO pay that was not “performance related,” once Wall Street pressured corporations for higher shareholder returns, once Wal-Mart ordered its suppliers to meet “the Chinese price,” once hostile takeovers could be justified as improving shareholder returns by offshoring production, capital and jobs departed the country.   Capital has become as mobile as traded goods.

On that topic, how are things going with Jared?” Holly inquired. “I want to interfere horribly in my friends’ love lives and keep my own embarrassing and pathetic one private, is that so much to ask?” “Mmm,” said Holly, and gave Kami a grin that reminded Kami of when Holly had been the sunny confident school goddess she had barely known and envied a little. “Now that you know that I’m not at all interested in Jared, is it inappropriate to say that I did get the impression that he might channel all those simmering repressed emotions in a useful way. I mean being explosively good in bed.” “Viking tiger in the sack, I have no doubt,” Kami said lightly, and felt a blush stage a hostile takeover of her neck and march up to claim the territory of her face

The baby intern scaled the walls of her crib and spent most of the weekend getting up to speed on the negotiations with Senecorp so you’d have it first thing this morning. You’ll find her sucking her thumb at Alice’s desk.

Maybe he wasn’t the balloon who’d been cut loose, but the one who’d untied himself from the rail.

Abrams voice cut in over the comm. “My God, this place is breath-taking!” “It is a palace for the gods,” added Brock. The group stood gawking at the magnificence of the hall surrounding them. Delanda went to the table, placed her helmet and pack on it, and began pulling tablets, scanners, and other accessories out. She wrestled off her gloves, but had trouble with the suit torso so Wilson had to intervene and help. Without a thought to the revealing fit of the white stretch suit liner, she escaped the spacesuit bottom and placed it on the table. Then, with still no self-consciousness at all, she stripped the suit liner off down to athletic bra and slim panties and pulled her pink, rolled up vacuum-packed flight coveralls and cloth boots from the suit pack. After excitedly dressing, she hurriedly grabbed a scanner from her pack and began investigating the hall. Show over, one by one we all removed our suits and became visitors in white suit liners. Wilson gave his fatherly warning. “Everyone be very careful removing and folding those liners. If you tear or damage the thermal control system in any way you could have an unpleasant trip back to the ship. Also, be careful to tuck in your suit communicator since we’ll all be using wrist coms from now on. That is if they actually work here.” Delanda ignored his comments and headed for the far end of the hall. Wilson pulled on black coveralls, R.J.’s were farmhouse blue, Brock and Wen light green, Abrams in hospital scrubs green, and Sharma’s and Ansara’s in tan. Mine were captain’s blue. As we studied our celestial surroundings, Delanda returned and spoke in a commanding voice. “Gentlemen, if you would grab your tablets and gather around me here at this magnificent table we should get started.” For the first time there was a unanimous look of annoyance, although everyone quickly complied. R.J. and I stood opposite her feeling like two school kids being ushered around on a field trip. Delanda checked to be sure everyone was paying attention. “Okay, I’m assuming our intranet will work in here even though we’re out of contact with the ship. Let’s try it. All of you use your tablets to access mine and copy the file titled: Translations. Let me know if anyone has trouble.” Delanda’s tablet appeared on our screens. As she had guessed, there were no problems getting in. Once copied, I opened the file and found dozens of Altair symbols, some highlighted, most grayed-out. “Okay, everyone got in? Right? Okay, the symbols you see highlighted are the ones I believe I have a rudimentary translation for. Those that are in gray, your guess is as good as mine.” “How do you propose we proceed?” asked Brock. “Speaking as an experienced field researcher, I would suggest one of us photographs and documents this first chamber thoroughly while the rest of us split up and do the same with other chambers, periodically reporting back here after each excursion. We should have one central person remain here to monitor the progress of everyone in the event they get into trouble. I would think that would be you, Commander Mirtos, since you are the best at rescue. Does anyone have any objections?” R.J. leaned over. “I believe this is a non-hostile takeover. Are you going to step in?” “Not until she says something I disagree with.” Delanda continued. “So, if no one has any objections the first order of business will be to photograph every wall symbol we find along with any artifacts possibly associated

Woke capitalism is a defensive move that serves to quell this frustration, to preserve, if not enhance, a status quo where corporations hold an increasing share of political power. This is a power, however, that can no longer be justified by the assumption that the invisible hand of capitalism will lead to shared prosperity. That is a myth that has very much been busted by the facts of history. In place of the invisible hand, with woke capitalism, corporations seek a moral justification for their existence, positioning themselves as the saviours of the exploitative inequality-generating system that they produced. This is being achieved by a hostile takeover of democracy.

Indeed, one such manifesto calls for a “hostile takeover” of Washington, D.C.34

Bosniak civilians were forced to flee their homes due to the constant shelling and army attacks by May 1992. Most of the civilians were taken as prisoners or surrendered to the Serb forces. The residents were then gathered and moved to the prison camps operated by the Serb forces in the surrounding area. Within 3 weeks of the hostile takeover of the government entities, the Serb forces mounted large scale military offense and subsequently started rounding up civilians and moving them to the Omarska camp.

During the Bosnian War in 1992, the Serb forces took over the Prijedor municipality. The Serbian Democratic Party (SDS) repeatedly broadcasted the Serb forces’ capture of Prijedor on radio as a display of significant victory. For further hostile takeover, 400 men were added to the Serb forces in Cirkin Polje (town in Prijedor) to seize Prijedor’s governing bodies such as the municipality, post office, police, bank, courts etc. By April, they successfully captured these government entities. This forceful takeover by Serb politicians was declared to be an illegal coup d’état by the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY). The coup was a cold blooded, pre-planned strategic effort to capture Prijedor and convert it into a pure Serb municipality. These strategic plans were never concealed. Milomir Stakić played an important role in the strategic capture by the Serb forces.

Bosniak civilians were forced to flee their homes due to the constant shelling and army attacks by May 1992. Most of the civilians were taken as prisoners or surrendered to the Serb forces. The residents were then gathered and moved to the prison camps operated by the Serb forces in the surrounding area. Within 3 weeks of the hostile takeover of the government entities, the Serb forces mounted large scale military offense and subsequently started rounding up civilians and moving them to the Omarska camp. The Bosnian Serb forces operated the Omarska concentration camp to torture, murder, rape, and abuse captured Bosnian civilians, intellectuals, and politicians in northern Bosnia and Herzegovina (Prijedor municipality). The camp held over 7,000 innocent Bosnian civilians as prisoners for more than five months during 1992. Several hundred people died due to constant abuse by the Serb forces including mass executions, starvation, beatings, repeated sexual abuse, and horrifying living conditions. The camp guards frequently cut the throats of the Bosniak captives. Prisoners ate spoiled food found by scavenging for it.

This double significance lies behind the medieval regulations requiring anyone who went out at night to identify himself by carrying a light. Any process of identification that was not reciprocal would have destroyed the 'balance of power' of light carriers, rather like unilateral disarmament in an armed society. The takeover by the state of individual identification by light, institutionalised in the form of public lighting in the seventeenth century, can in fact be compared to the roughly contemporaneous development of a state weapons monopoly in the army and the police. The unstable balance, the 'psychologie des hostilites intimes', between private individuals was replaced by a state monopoly on light and weapons. People submitted to it because it promised to guarantee stability and security. But although public lighting was welcomed as holding out the promise of security, it was also a police institution and, as such, attracted all the hostility traditionally directed at the police.

I’m going to fuck your ass, you sweet little thing. I’m going to make you take my thick cock in that virgin hole for what you did. Cry all you want. Scream all you want. Just know that this is what you deserve for what you did to me

Are you going to come, Ms. Van Kempt?” “No.”I want to grit my teeth, but the rest of my body will tense up if I do that. “Your pussy says otherwise.” My muscles react without my permission, and Mason takes in a sharp breath. “I’ll feel it if you come, Charlotte. I only have my cock inside you so I know when to punish you harder.

You wanted to feel it the next morning. You wanted to go home to your bedroom and touch yourself while you thought of me marking up your ass. You wanted to be a bad girl in my office so I’d retaliate. Do you know how I know? Because you’re fucking soaked.

I’ve changed my mind, Ms. Van Kempt. Your pussy is going to pay for your disobedience.

You took my cock, sweet thing. It’s so beautiful to watch you struggle with it. Yes—good. Like that. So good, Charlotte. You feel so goddamn perfect. So tight.”He holds my hips tighter. “Be good for me while I fuck you.

You’re doing so well, you sweet little thing. You’re so filthy. So dirty. Your little hole doesn’t want to let me go.

Come on my cock again. Come while you’re being punished. Come while it hurts, Charlotte. I fucking love it.

I like it when he’s cruel, I love when he hurts me, but this is a level we haven’t even flirted with.

This is how these dualities exist in one person. The sunshine laughter. The agonized tears. The wet cunt. Perhaps they’re not as contradictory as I thought. Perhaps there is another way to live, other than in pain and grief and vengeance.

I want her to be happy. I want to be happy.

Do you regret it, sweet thing? Do you regret that I took everything from you and made it mine? Do you regret that no other man will get to hurt you ever again?

There’s more cum between your thighs,” he says. “It’s dripping out of you, Ms. Van Kempt. You’re going to take it home with you.

When Heenehan Telecom Company took over Principal Processing Company, it fired all the staff except Jim Dennis and Beth Madison. They were tax accountants like fish out of water in the new company. The environment was hostile, the bosses were unbearable, and the cliques hated their guts. However, trouble started when a colleague, Amber Wolfe, started acting suspiciously and sabotaging their work. Jim and Beth found out the airhead exterior was only a facade, and Amber had dangerous ties to notorious cyber-terrorists. They were sitting ducks. Jim and Beth collaborate with external friends to save the company, their lives, and their careers. Would they succeed with the odds stacked against them, from bosses to colleagues? The Telecom Takeover by Beverly Winter tells the complete story. The Telecom Takeover by Beverly Winter is an intriguing novel that focuses on the corporate world. This story was riveting, from the office shenanigans to unfavorable policies to workplace bureaucracy to insensitive and selfish bosses. Winter also exposed the employee dynamics, power play, and scheming happening in the corporate world. This book has a solid plot, and the character development was beautiful. The story was also thought-provoking as I asked myself how much a person could take before throwing in the towel. At what point does perseverance become hopelessness? I could never work in such a dysfunctional environment and under such conditions. The overworked minions got the least pay while the bosses, who knew nothing, cornered fat bonuses. I loved how the tables turned on Judy. It was the best part of the novel. Keep writing beautiful stories, Beverly Winter." Jennifer Ibiam for Readers’ Favorite, ★★★★★

It’s wrong, to get fucked outside on the street. It’s wrong to like it. It’s wrong to be so powerless and so wet for it

Mason tastes like fire and hurt

It won’t save you, sweet little thing.” “What won’t?” “Being so fucking good. I love seeing you like this, with your ass in the air and your cunt on display. It makes me—”The sound that comes out of him is close to a growl. “What you owe can’t be changed by spreading your legs.

Such a good, sweet little thing. Two fingers in your tightest hole. Oh, I felt how much you liked that.

And he fucks me like he’s trying to forget, like it’s too painful to exist in this moment otherwise

Are you too empty to take your punishment? You want your pussy full of cock while I stretch your asshole?

felt that, you sweet little thing. Your pussy wants to squeeze the life out of me. Fuck, you’re beautiful like this, taking my cock. Are you going to be good and come for me? Or do I need to bend you over the chair and belt your ass first?

I think as I write this of how many billionaires are venerated, and how most of them stand up very poorly to closer scrutiny. So many billionaires use sociopathic tactics to accrue their fortunes. Examples of this are hostile takeovers, exploitive labor policies, health destroying work conditions, devastating environmental practices and various other forms of cheating, lying and back-stabbing.

Yemen is one of the few countries to implement traditional Sunni shari’a law and a limited liability company scam at the same time. Owning slaves is legal—the fiction is that the owner has an option hedged on the indentured laborer’s future output, with interest payments that grow faster than the unfortunate victim can pay them off—and companies are legal entities. If Amber sells herself into slavery to this company, she will become a slave and the company will be legally liable for her actions and upkeep. The rest of the legal instrument—about ninety percent of it, in fact—is a set of self-modifying corporate mechanisms coded in a variety of jurisdictions that permit Turing-complete company constitutions, and which act as an ownership shell for the slavery contract. At the far end of the corporate shell game is a trust fund of which Amber is the prime beneficiary and shareholder. When she reaches the age of majority, she’ll acquire total control over all the companies in the network and can dissolve her slave contract; until then, the trust fund (which she essentially owns) oversees the company that owns her (and keeps it safe from hostile takeover bids). Oh, and the company network is primed by an extraordinary general meeting that instructed it to move the trust’s assets to Paris immediately. A one-way airline ticket is enclosed

First comes the Emotion Regulation Network. I consider this primary, because I believe that unless we have the ability to regulate our emotions, we cannot enjoy a happy life. We can’t sustain Bliss Brain for long enough to spark neural plasticity if our consciousness is easily hijacked by negative emotions like anger, resentment, guilt, fear, and shame. The Emotion Regulation Network controls our reactivity to disturbing events. Regulating emotions is the meditator’s top priority. Emotion will distract us from our path every time. Love and fear are fabulous for survival because of their evolutionary role in keeping us safe. Love kept us bonded to others of our species, which gave us strength in numbers. Fear made us wary of potential threats. But to the meditator seeking inner peace, emotion = distraction. In the stories of Buddha and Jesus in Chapter 2, we saw how they were tempted by both the love of gain and the fear of loss. Only when they held their emotions steady, refusing either type of bait, were they able to break through to enlightenment. THE HOSTILE TAKEOVER OF CONSCIOUSNESS BY EMOTION Remember a time when you swore you’d act rationally but didn’t? Perhaps you were annoyed by a relationship partner’s habit. Or a team member’s attitude. Or a child’s behavior? You screamed and yelled in response. Or perhaps you didn’t but wanted to. So you decided that next time you would stay calm and have a rational discussion. But as the emotional temperature of the conversation increased, you found yourself screaming and yelling again. Despite your best intentions, emotion overwhelmed you. Without training, when negative emotions arise, our capacity for rational thought is eclipsed. Neuroscientist Joseph LeDoux calls this “the hostile takeover of consciousness by emotion.” Consciousness is hijacked by the emotions generated by fearful unwanted experiences or attractive desired ones. We need to regulate our emotions over and over again to gradually establish positive state stability. In positive state stability, when someone around us—whether a colleague, spouse, child, parent, politician, blogger, newscaster, or corporate spokesperson—says or does something that triggers negative emotions, we remain neutral. The same applies to negative thoughts arising from within our own consciousness. Positive state stability allows us to feel happy despite the chatter of our own minds. Getting triggered happens quickly. LeDoux found that it takes less than 1 second from hearing an emotionally triggering word to a reaction in the brain’s limbic system, the part that processes emotion. When we’re overwhelmed by emotion, rational thinking, sound judgment, memory, and objective evaluation disappear. But once we’re stable in that positive state, we’ve inoculated ourselves against negative influences, both from our own consciousness and from the outside world. We maintain that positive state over time, and state becomes trait.

The board had been through a lot in the last decade: the painful decision to bring Michael’s tenure to an end, the ongoing fight with Roy and Stanley, the hostile takeover attempt by Comcast, the shareholder lawsuit over Michael Ovitz’s $100 million–plus severance deal, a legal fight with Jeffrey Katzenberg over the conditions of his exit in 1994. The list went

Seventy-five and seventy-nine and in on hurry to move into a retirement home, they treated old age like an attempt at hostile takeover.

Ingenious, really: you pour junk-raised cash into a hostile takeover and sell the debt to your savings and loan, which the public ultimately must bail out. Then you mortgage the company to the hilt to pay off the funny money, loot the pension fund, run through the reserves, sell off everything of value, and dispose of the remaining bankrupt husk for whatever you can get. Magic! Loot that pays you extra to plunder it.

The monastic brotherhood was long gone, replaced by man-children fueled by what Lewis called the “eerie popular feeling that no job was worth taking outside investment banking.” John Gutfreund himself led the way; at a dinner party that year he reportedly looked his table partner in the eye and said, “Well, you’ve got the name, but you don’t have the money.” It was a question as to how long he’d have his own: a slipping bond market forced Salomon to fend off a hostile takeover by Ron Perelman. Everyone was a speculator: in 1987, $1 billion were spent on baseball cards; $350 million were spent on tickets to actual baseball games. Everyone was a gambler: State lotteries spread, Las Vegas and Atlantic City became family destinations, and Indian gaming would soon be legal. Easy credit was now a way of life—the pleasures of the ’80s had been charged to credit cards; $375 billion worth in 1987 alone—Robert Heilbroner predicted “a vast crisis” if the US continued to send industrial jobs to Mexico while it concentrated on “handicrafts.

Or maybe there's one thing to say, about the capitalism of the heart, the belief that the essences of life too can be seized and hoarded, that you can corner the market on confidence, stage a hostile takeover of happiness. It's based on scarcity economics, the notion or perhaps the feeling that there's not enough to go around, and the belief that these intangible phenomena exist in a fixed quantity to be scrambled for, rather than that you can only increase them by giving them away.

Or maybe there's one thing to say, about the capitalism of the heart, the belief that the essences of life too can be seized and hoarded, that you can corner the market on confidence, stage a hostile takeover of happiness. It's based on scarcity economics, the notion or perhaps the feeling that there's not enough to go around, and the belief that these intangible phenomena exist in a fixed quantity to be scrambled for, rather than that you can only increase them by giving them away.

President Bush asked us soon after September 11 for cards or charters of the "senior al Qaeda managers," as though dealing with them would be like a Harvard Business School exercise in a hostile takeover. He announced his intentions to measure progress in the war on terrorism by crossing through the pictures of those caught or killed. I have a disturbing image of him sitting by a warm White House fireplace drawing a dozen red Xs on the faces of the former al Qaeda corporate board, and soon perhaps on Usama bin Laden, while the new clones of al Qaeda are working in the back alleys and dark warrens of Baghdad, Cairo, Jakarta, Karachi, Detroit, and Newark, using the scenes from Iraq to stoke the hatred of America even further, recruiting thousands whose names we will never know, whose faces will never be on President Bush's little charts, not until it is again too late.

Life is full of misery and hardship, so grab your pleasures where you can.

Count it, Marcie.” She managed to get the first finger out. She was pretty sure she was losing her mind, because she chose her middle finger.

technology is taking over advice. For some critics, this takeover is hostile; for others, it offers the data-driven gift of intimacy, immediacy, and discovery.