Click here @Dennis Mbogori

Hackers blends suspense, humor, and romance with a stylized, exaggerated vision of cyberspace. While its portrayal of hacking is wildly unrealistic by today's standards, it's become a cult classic thanks to its killer soundtrack, colorful visual style, memorable one-liners ("Hack the planet!"), and early performances by Angelina Jolie and Jonny Lee Miller. Despite the "highly fictionalized and unrealistic" portrayal of hacking, I have to admit the movie knows exactly what it is. The soundtrack, the over-the-top cyberpunk aesthetic, and the opportunity for my 32-year-old self to easily feast his eyes on Angelina Jolie were more than enough to forgive how gloriously goofy this movie really is. Goofy enough that, even today, I genuinely enjoy rewatching it for its undeniable low-grade The Room meets Mystery Science Theater 3000 energy. It's impossible for me to hate it. I don't buy or collect physical media anymore, but if I did, Hackers would be one of the first DVDs back on my shelf—right next to Johnny Mnemonic. They belong together like peanut butter and bad CGI. And the biggest lesson this movie teaches us? One that apparently had to be shouted from the top of a mountain: If you're dressed like a squad of stylized, exaggerated cyberpunk hackers... you absolutely must subvert expectations by taping two pay phones together and going analog. Good thing VPN sponsorships weren't interrupting every YouTube video back then. And don't even get me started on how much shorter Hackers would be if it were made today. Claude, ChatGPT, or any modern AI would solve the entire plot with one prompt and a single click. "Roll credits."

Have a looked at this community, use my link in the description of the YouTube to join. See you in the inside! @Kevin Hall

Keeping myself accountable daily to get more work done and inspire you guys. If I can do it you can too!! 🚀🚀🚀🚀 Accountability post ✅ Posted in 10+ Skools today ✅ Engaged inside them during the day ✅ 5 meaningful comments inside Evolve, Academy &/or Skoolers✅ Dropped 1 high-value post "Golden Nugget" or tip in the feed ✅ Comment on the activity inside the academy ✅ Respond to ALL DMs (FB/skool) ✅ Celebrated a member's win publicly ✅ Initiated 5 new connection conversations✅ Had 1 connection call ✅ Checked in with 3 members of academy ✅ Recorded 1 short video & uploaded ✅ Recorded 3 shorts and uploaded ✅ 10k+ steps during day ✅ Rest day no workout completed ✅ Drank a gallon of water❌ How was your day? Were you Able to make shit happen? I missed the water but I was not home so was difficult Overall I had a great day and completed and accomplished a lot!! Ready to up Your game Reach out To me in DM

TRUNK (a short story by Michael Fuller) A story told by the guy in the trunk. Most people only get one scene. You know the kind. A pair of hands. A struggle. A punch. Darkness. Then the trunk slams shut. The audience never learns our names. We’re the disposable characters. The kidnapped witness. The unlucky accountant. The security guard who saw too much. The henchman who failed the boss one too many times. I’ve been all of them. Not literally, of course. But every time a writer needs someone in a trunk, they create a guy like me. We exist for one purpose: to make the hero look determined or the villain look dangerous. Then we’re forgotten. The strange thing about being a trunk guy is that you have a lot of time to think. The hero is usually driving somewhere dramatic. The villain is usually making threats. Meanwhile, I’m bouncing around between a spare tire and a jack handle, wondering why nobody asks what I think about the plot. I have opinions. For example, if you’re a henchman working for an evil mastermind, maybe don’t take the job that includes a dental plan described as “survive until Friday.” And if you’re a victim, maybe don’t investigate abandoned warehouses at midnight. You’d think people would learn. They never do. I know because I’ve been in thousands of trunks. Different stories. Same trunk. One week I’m a mob enforcer. The next week I’m a journalist. Sometimes I’m tied up. Sometimes I’m unconscious. Once I was a professional assassin who somehow got defeated by a retired librarian with a garden rake. That one still bothers me. But this time feels different. This time I can hear the audience. They’re waiting for the hero to open the trunk. They expect the usual scene. The lid lifts. Light pours in. The hero asks questions. I give information. Then I disappear from the story forever. But I’ve decided I don’t want one scene anymore. I want a life. I want a name. I want hobbies. Maybe I collect comic books. Maybe I draw caricatures at county fairs.