Below The Fold ...
- Thread starter sear
- Start date
North Korean IT workers are stealing remote jobs and raking in billions—and Americans are helping them do it
Amanda Gerut / Sat, April 25, 2026 at 6:02 AM GMT-5The North Korean IT worker scheme, in which operatives get remote tech jobs at U.S. and European companies, is an important part of a broad campaign of malfeasance by the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) that has generated about $2.8 billion in the past two years to help fund the country’s nuclear weapon ambitions, according to the UN’s Multilateral Sanctions Monitoring Committee. The committee, which tracks DPRK sanctions violations and evasion tactics, revealed in January that the scheme has now victimized 40 countries around the globe. A large portion of that total is the result of crypto theft, but the IT worker scheme reliably generates $250 million to $600 million per year in fraudulent salaries, the UN has found.
North Korean IT workers are stealing remote jobs and raking in billions—and Americans are helping them do it
“North Korean IT worker schemes would not be successful without U.S.-based facilitators,” wrote Assistant Attorney General John Eisenberg in an April sentencing memo.
Shiftless2
Well-known member
The greatest athlete you've probably never heard of
They didn't ban her for cheating—they banned her for being so impossibly good that she made everyone else look ridiculous.
Los Angeles, 1932. The Olympics. Twenty-one-year-old Mildred "Babe" Didrikson showed up to compete in track and field. Women were limited to just three events, so Babe chose strategically: javelin, 80-meter hurdles, and high jump.
She didn't just win. She obliterated the competition.
Gold in javelin. Threw 143 feet, 4 inches. World record.
Gold in the 80-meter hurdles. Ran it in 11.7 seconds. World record—breaking her own time from earlier that same day.
In the high jump, she cleared a height no woman had ever reached. Another world record.
Then officials disqualified her for diving over the bar headfirst instead of feet-first—a technique now standard but considered "improper" for ladies in 1932.
They gave her silver instead.
Babe looked at them and said: "I'd have gone higher if you'd let me."
But here's what made Babe Didrikson legendary: she wasn't just the best female athlete of her time. She became the only athlete ever—male or female—to win individual Olympic medals in separate running, throwing, and jumping events.
Think about that. Not just the best woman. The only human. Ever.
Born in 1911 in Port Arthur, Texas to Norwegian immigrant parents, Babe grew up poor. Her mother had been a ....
CONTINUED with comments
They didn't ban her for cheating—they banned her for being so impossibly good that she made everyone else look ridiculous.
Los Angeles, 1932. The Olympics. Twenty-one-year-old Mildred "Babe" Didrikson showed up to compete in track and field. Women were limited to just three events, so Babe chose strategically: javelin, 80-meter hurdles, and high jump.
She didn't just win. She obliterated the competition.
Gold in javelin. Threw 143 feet, 4 inches. World record.
Gold in the 80-meter hurdles. Ran it in 11.7 seconds. World record—breaking her own time from earlier that same day.
In the high jump, she cleared a height no woman had ever reached. Another world record.
Then officials disqualified her for diving over the bar headfirst instead of feet-first—a technique now standard but considered "improper" for ladies in 1932.
They gave her silver instead.
Babe looked at them and said: "I'd have gone higher if you'd let me."
But here's what made Babe Didrikson legendary: she wasn't just the best female athlete of her time. She became the only athlete ever—male or female—to win individual Olympic medals in separate running, throwing, and jumping events.
Think about that. Not just the best woman. The only human. Ever.
Born in 1911 in Port Arthur, Texas to Norwegian immigrant parents, Babe grew up poor. Her mother had been a ....
CONTINUED with comments
Shiftless2
Well-known member
This doesn't really fit anyplace else
"'I'll get it next year.' She was 15, had just won bronze at her first world championships, and instead of celebrating, she made a promise. One year later, she kept it. Five years later, at 20, she became the youngest American wrestler—male or female—to ever win Olympic gold, undefeated the entire time, outscoring opponents 375‑19. The Olympics told her she was one day too young. She spent the next five years proving that age was never the real limit."
Amit Elor was born on January 1, 2004. By the time the Tokyo Olympics rolled around in 2021, she was 17—but the age cutoff for wrestling was December 31. One single day separated her from a shot at the Games. Most athletes would be crushed. Amit simply went straight to work. She had started wrestling at four, tagging along to her older brother's practice in Walnut Creek, California, and begging to step on the mat. She beat the boys, and coaches told her to take it easy on them. She internalized their critiques, believing for years she wasn't good at wrestling—even as she kept winning.
In 2019, at 15, she won bronze at the Under‑17 World Championships. Instead of basking in the medal, she told reporters, "I'll get it next year." She wasn't making excuses; she was making a promise. The next year she won gold without giving up a single point. She hasn't lost since. Over the next three years, she piled up eight world championships across every division—junior, under‑23, senior, even beach wrestling. At 18, she became the youngest American wrestler to win a senior world title. All while grappling with personal loss: her brother Oshry was murdered in 2018; her father died in 2022. "I've had a lot of traumatic experiences," she said. "But I've learned to compartmentalize, to focus on the present." The mat became her sanctuary, her place of control.
Heading into the 2024 Paris Olympics, she faced one last obstacle: dropping nearly nine pounds to compete at 68kg, a weight class added to the Olympic program instead of her usual 72kg. Most wrestlers would struggle. Amit made it look easy. In Paris, she bulldozed through the bracket: the 2023 world champion, 10‑2; the Polish contender, 8‑0; a North Korean opponent dispatched in 1 minute and 44 seconds, 10‑0. In the gold medal match, she faced a two‑time Olympic medalist from Kyrgyzstan and controlled every second, winning 3‑0.
When the final whistle blew, Amit Elor became the youngest American wrestler—male or female—to ever win Olympic gold. She draped the American flag over her shoulders and skipped around the mat, a child's joy on an Olympic champion's face. "I'm still in disbelief," she said. "I think I have a little bit of impostor syndrome. I still feel like that little kid who just started wrestling, but I just became an Olympic champion." That little kid who coaches doubted. That teenager who promised she'd get it next year. That young woman who missed the Olympics by one day. She didn't just get it. She got everything.
"'I still feel like that little kid who just started wrestling, but I just became an Olympic champion.' She was told she was one day too young. So she spent five years making sure no one could ever count her out again. Age isn't the limit. The limit is the one you refuse to accept."
"'I'll get it next year.' She was 15, had just won bronze at her first world championships, and instead of celebrating, she made a promise. One year later, she kept it. Five years later, at 20, she became the youngest American wrestler—male or female—to ever win Olympic gold, undefeated the entire time, outscoring opponents 375‑19. The Olympics told her she was one day too young. She spent the next five years proving that age was never the real limit."
Amit Elor was born on January 1, 2004. By the time the Tokyo Olympics rolled around in 2021, she was 17—but the age cutoff for wrestling was December 31. One single day separated her from a shot at the Games. Most athletes would be crushed. Amit simply went straight to work. She had started wrestling at four, tagging along to her older brother's practice in Walnut Creek, California, and begging to step on the mat. She beat the boys, and coaches told her to take it easy on them. She internalized their critiques, believing for years she wasn't good at wrestling—even as she kept winning.
In 2019, at 15, she won bronze at the Under‑17 World Championships. Instead of basking in the medal, she told reporters, "I'll get it next year." She wasn't making excuses; she was making a promise. The next year she won gold without giving up a single point. She hasn't lost since. Over the next three years, she piled up eight world championships across every division—junior, under‑23, senior, even beach wrestling. At 18, she became the youngest American wrestler to win a senior world title. All while grappling with personal loss: her brother Oshry was murdered in 2018; her father died in 2022. "I've had a lot of traumatic experiences," she said. "But I've learned to compartmentalize, to focus on the present." The mat became her sanctuary, her place of control.
Heading into the 2024 Paris Olympics, she faced one last obstacle: dropping nearly nine pounds to compete at 68kg, a weight class added to the Olympic program instead of her usual 72kg. Most wrestlers would struggle. Amit made it look easy. In Paris, she bulldozed through the bracket: the 2023 world champion, 10‑2; the Polish contender, 8‑0; a North Korean opponent dispatched in 1 minute and 44 seconds, 10‑0. In the gold medal match, she faced a two‑time Olympic medalist from Kyrgyzstan and controlled every second, winning 3‑0.
When the final whistle blew, Amit Elor became the youngest American wrestler—male or female—to ever win Olympic gold. She draped the American flag over her shoulders and skipped around the mat, a child's joy on an Olympic champion's face. "I'm still in disbelief," she said. "I think I have a little bit of impostor syndrome. I still feel like that little kid who just started wrestling, but I just became an Olympic champion." That little kid who coaches doubted. That teenager who promised she'd get it next year. That young woman who missed the Olympics by one day. She didn't just get it. She got everything.
"'I still feel like that little kid who just started wrestling, but I just became an Olympic champion.' She was told she was one day too young. So she spent five years making sure no one could ever count her out again. Age isn't the limit. The limit is the one you refuse to accept."