Encabezados por nuestro Presidente Nacional @jsierraalvarez, iniciamos la gira estratégica por París y Bruselas para posicionar a México como un socio confiable ante actores empresariales, institucionales y tecnológicos europeos, en un momento de reconfiguración global de las cadenas de valor, enmarcado en nuestro eje estratégico de T-MEC y Nearshoring. Asimismo, abordaremos temas centrales para la agenda de COPARMEX, participando en VivaTech, uno de los encuentros más relevantes de innovación tecnológica y emprendimiento a nivel mundial, e intercambiaremos experiencias sobre el modelo de formación dual, espacios de diálogo social, mejores prácticas educativas, así como programas de digitalización y adopción de inteligencia artificial para las MiPyMEs. 🤝 Agradecemos el acompañamiento del @cceoficialmx, a través de su Presidente Nacional, @JoseMedinaMora, y de Ana López Mestre, su Directora Ejecutiva General. La delegación de COPARMEX está integrada por @fernandotrevino, Vicepresidente de Asuntos Internacionales y Laborales; @AngelGLascurain, Vicepresidente de Desarrollo Económico; @JPadillaZ, Vicepresidente de Grandes Empresas y Asociaciones; Marco Andrey Arzarte, Presidente de la Comisión de Innovación; @operezmxg, Consejero Delegado de Inversiones y Crecimiento Económico; Juan Carlos Uriarte, Consejero Nacional; Manuel Escobedo, Consejero Nacional; @franlodimx, Director General; @andrefoncerrada, CEO y fundadora de Policymind; Giovanni Padilla, de CISA; y Gerardo Martínez Zúñiga, de Intercomm Soluciones Integrales (@Intercommx).

Did they have to re-arrange the office furnish for all the people who need to stand behind Trump in every shot. No really? Is there a "Code 10" that goes out over the intercomm to drop what you are doing to run and stand behind this guy?

Intercomm Building Cultural Networks West Kirk Community HA WGS Green Energy Ltd WGS New Developments Ltd WGS Property Enterprises Ltd WGS Residential Ltd

If you're using Pi, make sure you properly learn @nicopreme's pi-subagents and pi-intercomm. Two very powerful extensions. It allows you to easily iterate on complex workflows for long running agents.

(Xe pushes back then, reaching for the intercomm) Xe: *It is protocol. Sir.* (Xe presses the button) Xe: Calling Station. Report we are on our way. Retrieval fail— (Jayce panics. This message can't send, they can't just leave yet, without his father, without his— Viktor)

Wake up slaves Get me this intercomm And ive you slaves weak cucks so why would i pay for it So sponser it Hurry upppp

@grok value can Intercomm by $TNK bring to you ?

There's a stupid fucking intercomm god fuck that stupid fucking shitty city. What evil Bethesda employee made that awful city

Ontem o brother que toca o CS veio me pedir uma ajuda com o Product Tour que ele está implementando na intercomm e me pediu um "50 centavos".. Mandei o vídeo para ele da minha navegação mostrando que ficava bugado... daí ele voltou: mas você tá clicando e scrollando muito rápido

Same here in Italy it would seem. My name has already been scrapped and erroneously cross referenced with online searches to try to sell me stuff. I got a sample pen with my name on the mail because they think I'm part of [redacted] alongside a coupon to make bulk purchases of said branded pens. First place we arrived at on this town had no intercomm but instead a centuries old bell that you can't really hear all the way in lol.

If you also dont care to do that—Fanon (later esp) and Cesaire. Anything you can find that the BPP and BLA put out (shakur, ervins, sostres*, jackson, dhoruba, newton intercomm big 1). Prsnly looking for more stuff on blk/indigenous rev. Theres more than whites for the eyes to c!

WHY would they have to answer the intercomm to a sitting MP? This isn't an issue for staff to deal with. And also..has there been the same level of concern for the serving police officer who had her spine broken? Attacking our police officers. Beggars belief

Staff @KFCmalaysia kat Dataran Bandaraya JB sumpah bingit. Kau tak ada intercomm ke terjerit-jerit. Mekak gila orang nak makan dengan aman.

How about a war story for Black Friday? “Understand Americans under FIRE are a lower priority than allies inside their base…” ——-— I picked up the air support request, and my eyes widened as they focused on the priority box. #1. We were the number one priority mission in all of Afghanistan that day. My heartrate increased as I sped through the details in the concept of operations: Movement to contact… village sweep… expected enemy resistance: significant. I looked to my wingman and smiled. “This is gonna be a good one.” “Not so fast,” our ground liaison representative muttered. “Before you get too spun up, I gotta burst your bubble…” He sighed disappointingly. “A certain NATO member nation hasn’t gotten any air support recently, and they complained about it pretty loudly. So the generals decided to placate them and make them the number one priority to prove how much we ‘care’ about and support them.” “But they’re gonna go kick over a hornet’s nest, right” I raised and shook the request sheet. He shook his head. “I’m not even sure they’re leaving their FOB,” he replied. “They were told that in order to get support, they had to submit a CONOPS, so I’m pretty sure someone gave them that one to cut and paste.” He grinned. “Who knows, maybe today’s the day they’ll actually get out there and do something.” ———-— Hours later, after repeated trips to the tanker and endless taskings staring at civilian bazaars surrounding a VERY well defended allied FOB with no sign of either offensive operations or enemy activity, the radio crackled to life with a new tasking. “Hog 51, Troops In Contact! Contact Stork 11 on Red Five for further tasking— snap heading 030!” Throttles firewalled, we roared northeast and checked in with the Polish JTAC. We input the coordinates passed by the controlling agency and slaved our sensors to the location along Highway 1– the main ring route circling most of the nation. A series of MRAPs were parked at 45 degrees to the road, blocking traffic in both directions. The JTAC informed us that they were preventing traffic from getting to the team that was under fire, and he passed us an inter-team FM frequency and new location. He also informed us that he was NOT in contact with that team due to the fact that he was located on a FOB about 10 miles from the fight. No problem— we loaded the FM freq into one of our radios and tuned to the team’s fight. As soon as I entered the last digit, the radio exploded to life. “Mary, if you take fire from that building again I want you to f’ing level it!” “Copy that!” “Deuce 12, this is Hog 51.” “What the hell was that?” “Deuce 12, this is Hog 51– two A-10s overhead, and I’m here to help.” “Who the hell is on MY frequency?!?” ”Deuce, I’m Hog 51– I’m a flight of two A-10 Warthogs— we’re here to help.” “Did you hear that?” the team leader asked. “I think they said they’re A-10s.” “YES I DID— I’m a flight of two A-10s… I’m here to help you.” “Can I talk to them?” “YES! TALK TO ME! I’m here to help YOU.” “Who is this?” ”Hog 51– here to help.” Once we got it all sorted out, the situation started flowing. I could see five Stryker vehicles below me, and the team lead informed me that they were taking fire from a building 90 meters east on a heading of 090. I used my sensors to “draw” a line in that direction and distance, and locked onto a building on the west side of a village. I called back to the JTAC, who couldn’t provide any assistance— he wasn’t part of the fight, and since he was Polish, I wasn’t even sure if he had any command relationship to the embattled team. I stopped wasting time. ”Stork, I’m declaring Emergency CAS in self-defense of US forces. Monitor our comms and let me know if you have anything critical. Otherwise, we’re gonna shoot this one out on our own.” “Stork copies and I concur.” Turning back to the ground team, I offered an immediate solution. “Deuce, I’m about 90% that I’m in the right location, but let’s confirm with a Willie-Pete.” A white-phosphorous rocket would “mark” the location with a brilliant plume of white smoke and under the rules of engagement, offered a no-collateral damage option. He concurred, and I selected an aimpoint about 20 meters offset from the building intentionally. Any corrections from the friendlies would take my next weapons pass away from them and into the enemy. I could have put the rockets right into the area, but if we were wrong about the selection, the correction might drive us back towards friendlies, and there was little to no room for error here. The two rockets impacted the open desert near the building. ”Negative, the next building to the south!” Deuce corrected. Perfect— now I know exactly where to look. I rolled in for a second pass and dropped another rocket about 10 meters from the new building. “That’s it!” he bellowed. I reached down and selected the weapons steerpoint; the A-10 stores your last weapons impact point in a specific navigation point, and by selecting it, I could slave my sensors to the location without being passed a grid by the guys on the ground. The targeting pod spun rapidly and presented an interesting picture to me on the small multi-function color display over my right knee. The house was well-built by Afghan standards. We weren’t talking about your average mud hut that we saw everywhere else— this was a two-story building with intricate designs on the walls and a manicured courtyard in the center of the compound. In that courtyard, a man calmly walked a cow. That changed the game— potential non-combatants on the target. “Deuce, are you under fire at this time?” If he was, it was game on. If not, we had just been handcuffed. “Negative, you shut them down with those rockets!” “Copy, no longer taking fire.” Unfortunately for us, Stork heard that transmission, and as the qualified JTAC in the area, he informed me that if friendlies were no longer taking fire, that he’d have to downgrade the situation from a TIC to a priority. “Stork, recommend keeping the TIC open,” I began. “If you downgrade, they’re gonna pull us back to our previous tasking— these guys are still in a kill zone and could really use our help.” “Copy Hog, but if they’re no longer under fire, then I am bound by the ROE to downgrade it to a PRI.” “Dammit,” I transmitted to my wingman. “This is gonna suck.” Sure enough, within two minutes of the downgrade, our controlling agency informed us that we were ordered to return to our original tasking. We agreed VERY reluctantly. ”Deuce, they’re pulling us off station. But I’ll keep your team freq up and keep one of us close enough to keep tabs. If you come back under fire, we’ll be back up as soon as we can.” He wasn’t happy about it, but he understood. We returned to our other allies, who informed us that they still were not ready to commence their village raid but wondered if we could scan the perimeter again for anything suspicious? I looked down at my gas. It was time to hit the flying gas station, so that at least offered a reprieve from the moment. Since my wingman had a little more fuel, we decided to split the formation. I would go first, he would monitor both situations and we’d get back together after we’d both gone to the tanker. We had a great tanker crew, and they met us overhead, right in between both events. As I approached the -135, my wingman informed me that Deuce was under fire again. I had left the freq for the tanker, so I didn’t hear the initial calls. And I didn’t hear the next one, but the relay got my blood boiling. “They’ve taken a casualty.” I was too low on gas to get there, so I had to concentrate on the tanker in front of me. I tried to raise command, but couldn’t get ahold of them. I plugged into the tanker and the intercomm buzzed to life. ”Are you guys in touch with the CRC?” I asked the boomer. “Affirm sir,” he replied. “Ask them if I can go back to the TIC,” I directed. He came back a few seconds later. “Negative sir, it’s still a PRI and they direct you to go to your priority one tasking.” “Listen to me very carefully and say these exact words to them: understand that Americans under fire are a lower priority than our allies on their FOB!” “Yes SIR!” He couldn’t contain his excitement. I’m pretty sure they had turned up the pressure on their pumps to get us our gas faster, but the damn fuel sprayed from around the nozzle and made it difficult to see through the front windscreen. Normally, I’d select the rain-remove function that blew more air over the windscreen to alleviate that, but in the heat of the moment, I’d neglected to do so and had to hold on tightly to see through the spray. The Boomer came back up, unable to contain his excitement, blurting, “You’re cleared back to the TIC!” “Damn right,“ I muttered. The fuel topped off, and I thanked them for the assistance before hitting the disconnect button and stowing the refueling door in the nose. I flipped back to Deuce’s freq and directed my wingman to get to the tanker ASAP and then meet me back at the TIC. I skipped Stork and informed Deuce that I as coming in as low and fast as I could from the west, and that I’d give him a thirty-second call to cease any indirect fire they were employing. “Damn there’s a lot of towers down here!” I thought as I got down to a hundred feet and bent the throttles forward. Being the main road in the country, every cell tower and radio antenna was constructed there, and I weaved my way around several. I roared in over the friendlies and pointed my nose directly at the target building, pulling up sharply and punching out self-protection flares as I entered the fight. “We’re back, boys— I heard you’re looking for a scrap!” Deuce informed me almost apologetically that the enemy had again ceased fire when we returned, and that they were mounting up under our cover and would use the opportunity to egress the kill zone. “Roger that, we’ll stay in a protective escort until you’re clear,” I returned. With my wingman back on board, we entered a formation that we normally reserve for escorting helicopters in the terminal phase of a rescue. We were low, in a wide circle, maneuvering defensively, and always keeping a gun pointed inward towards the known enemy location. The Strykers started lumbering back towards Highway One, and as they turned onto the pavement, an impact bloomed about fifty yards behind the last armored vehicle— someone had fired an FU rocket at them, but we couldn’t see the launch site unfortunately. We kept the protective bubble around the friendlies, and I informed Deuce that I’d stay with them all the way back to their FOB if needed. He thanked us and passed the radio call that I can still hear to this day: “Man, you got the coolest job in the world!” “Here for you, brother! Call us anytime you need us.” The team freq chatter continued as we maneuvered alongside them. The lead told the uninjured troops to get straight to chow— if anyone tried to to stop them, he’d straighten them out personally. The casualty wasn’t critical— he’d been shot, as Forrest Gump would say, “in the buttocks.” You read that in a Forrest, Forrest Gump voice. Admit it. I did too. As they turned into the FOB, Deuce cleared us off and thanked us again. It was two days before Christmas, 2011. We returned to our allies, who still weren’t “ready” for their assault, and since the daylight was fading, decided to postpone it indefinitely. No kidding, I thought. When the gas ran low again, we pointed our noses back to Kandahar and flew into the setting sun. That was a good day. (Pic was taken many years earlier... on a Northern Watch sortie where mostly nothing happened...)

Confirmed: March 3rd, 2026 Queens, NY, USA Venue: Intercomm

//<[INTERCOMM SYSTEM¥]]>) //"WILL @METAENCORE & @JACKBUTCHER PLEASE REPORT~~~|{{£₩₩09 x.com/jjimjonze/status/19907…

Maybe because I did intercomm, foreign correspondence, global journalism, etc. This is why I'm so interested in the fact that the US govt has other intentions. Nigeria is a very corrupt country, but omoo, our resources are like milk and honey or whatever. We need to be realistic.

We really need to be educated as a country. Sadly, not everyone wants to learn. Prof. was right all along in his intercomm. class

OOO LOOK AT ME I'M CAPTAIN MEGATRON AND I CAN SHOUT LOUD ENOUGH TO NOT BE USING THE INTERCOMM. OH LOOK AT ME BEING A HAPPY DAPPY WAR CRIMINAL. EUGH. EuUUUUUUGH.

Early versions were innovative in that the nomex liner also acted as a balaclava. The padding around the eye port pressed against the drivers face and below it extended down around the neck. It was often supplied a medical air breathing tube & intercomm.