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But then, she mentioned that the flight was delayed and there was no way that I can made my connection from LA to Indianaplis. The front desk asked me to try other ways when I arrived LA to see what can be done. All the while, your crews expected me an alien from Asia that I should have known every thing get it through, or to claim my suitcase charges.
I am really disappointed for the lack of understanding. To you, it may be something happened so common everyday. To me, I was totally lost to handle this. Then, since I have medical problems, and I was freezing despite a sweater and a coat, I asked the flight attendant for a blanket and explained why, and she said flatly that there were no blankets on board. Just a terrible terrible red eye.
Very pleasant and attentive. Made the best of their way to take care of everything" Cons: "Might want to look into refurbishment of the aircraft at some point soon. Lots of thing S worn out or not working" Pros: "The crew were great, security at the airport took over an hour to get through so I arrived at the gate 10minsbefire takeoff. She called and arranged for a shuttle to pick me up in San Francisco and bring me to San Jose at no cost, and provided me with a flex ticket so that if I missed the next flight I could be on the subsequent one.
I did in fact make it -- just barely -- onto the flight out of San Jose, so when all was said and done I landed in Portland about three hours later than originally planned. As it was a very short trip, I'm quite glad that I only lost the time that I did. Thank you, Diane Diana?
As I was leaving for the airport at I received a text saying that my flight had been delayed until I ended up arriving at the airport around and making it over to the service desk around , at which point I was told by one of the attendants that the flight had left at and I should have been at the airport two hours early. There was no acknowledgment by this particular attendant that I had been given wrong information by the airline that had resulted in my missing the flight.
Only free snack offering was cookids; prefer a snack with less sugar. First time with Alaskan an was far from impressed" Cons: "All out of food We could have ran an got something before boarding started An no compensation for it but sorry Not to mention weren't even all the way in the back Glad to see a few people up front able to eat We got in earlier than expected as well.
Nicest flight attendants" Pros: "The staff was polite and helpful. Not sure how much of any of it was within their control. Luckily there was a doctor on the flight, he and the crew attended to the passenger. Reassuring to see such a professional team. I was cold and reluctant to say anything.
Seemed like lots were asking for hot drinks and bundled up so the stewardess asked the pilot to crank up the heat. No one had requested this! At that moment I realized, many of us are afraid due to recent things on the news. I am a frequent and long-term traveller so if I felt it, you can be sure others do too. It is an industry problem, not your fault, but Alaska has to address it.
I would encourage you to bring the issue to the surface and remind your travellers on every flight that they can expect excellent service, pleasant responsiveness. Say something or do something that gets at the idea that the Alaska staff is protective of each passenger. One idea would be to have the stewardess remind people of the call light and encourage passengers to use it if they have any questions or concerns, or come see them in the back when it is safe to leave the seat.
There was no give in the seats and they didn't move at all. The armrests went up but jutted out like daggers. So, if you tried to stretch out it was impossible. I felt like a homeless person who wasn't supposed to lay on a bench. Not a deal brraker but less then ideal. Otherwise, excellent service. A little windy and bumpy. Left on time and arrived early.
Everyone had smiles on their faces and was so nice and professional. I happened to be allergic to furry animals, especially cats and dogs. There were two dogs on board, one in a row toward the front and one in the back.
There was nowhere that I could go and allergens were probably circulated in the system. There was also a terrible odor that several others said they could also smell. The attendant said that there was nothing that could be done, and we suffered through the entire flight. Also, the TV control was broken and there was no option to turn off the TV.
We have not heard a peep from anyone! Clean plane. Courteous staff. Loved ot! Why did I get that email? I was also surprised that it had television. Flight late due to refueling. Rather than finding us new flights, we waited for many hours for the plane to be repaired. I was planning on making it to work by 9 this morning but the only folks who received alternate flights were the ones with connections : in addition to this, the power shutting down on the plane was extremely unsettling.
I have flown hundreds of times and have zero fear of flying. Today, I was terrified that the power would shut off mid-flight at any moment. I truly wish we'd been given another plane But something along those lines would have been better than stepping back on the one that shut down with all of us in it A good amount of leg room.
The flight was on time. Bottleneck at boarding time. Movie selection limited and only played one of three movies back to back. Crew and connect very nice. The plane was hot. There was a loud crying baby behind us kicking our seats I thought there was more than one baby and was surprised to see all that was generated by one. Our attendant was a little snarky and dismissive. One entertainment screen was on the fritz, and the sound was messed up on the other, so we hacked them together to make one functioning system for one of us.
The fly-fi was out of range for all but the last 30 minutes. The seats seem to be getting narrower, and I've lost weight! I also appreciated the credit that Jetblue gave me for the inconvienence. That showed sensitivity on their part that was refreshing.
I know it is the holidays so its busy, and unexpected situations do arise during these times especially, so at least the credit provided some positive relief to the disappointment. Needless to say, the traffic getting out of Boston at 4pm on a Tuesday only added insult to injury.
This was also the second time that I had an underwhelming experience overall flying Jetblue so that added to the disappointment. Not the airline's fault but waited in the help line for over an hr before the agent told me there was no earlier flight I could be placed on - she was incorrect. Pointed out that there was another flight that had also been delayed and therefore hadn't left yet - she agreed, put me on standby. At the gate, the boarding crew did not know what they were doing.
Crew was friendly but incompetent in terms of problem solving. Made it to my destination comfortably and on time. I am trying to fly with JetBlue more frequently as a result of their continued support for first responders, and so far I have not been disappointed.
Also, the flight to Boston was so quick, within an hour's time I like the seating arrangement with only 2 on each side. I like the space between front and rear seats allowing some leg room. The crew from Captain to steward were all polite and helpful. Junkspace is its apotheosis, or meltdown Although its individual parts are the outcome of brilliant inventions, lucidly planned by human intelligence, boosted by infinite computation, their sum spells the end of Enlightenment, its resurrection as farce, a low-grade purgatory Junkspace is the sum total of our current achievement; we have built more than all previous generations together, but somehow we do not register on the same scales.
We do not leave pyramids. According to a new gospel of ugliness, there is already more Junkspace under construction in the 21st century than survived from the 20th It was a mistake to invent modern architecture for the 20th century. Architecture disappeared in the 20th century; we have been reading a footnote under a microscope hoping it would turn into a novel; our concern for the masses has blinded us to People's Architecture.
Junkspace seems an aberration, but it is essence, the main thing Continuity is the essence of Junkspace; it exploits any invention that enables expansion, deploys the infrastructure of seamlessness: escalator, air conditioning, sprinkler, fire shutter, hot-air curtain It is always interior, so extensive that you rarely perceive limits; it promotes disorientation by any means mirror, polish, echo Junkspace is sealed, held together not by structure, but by skin, like a bubble.
Gravity has remained constant, resisted by the same arsenal since the beginning of time; but air conditioning - invisible medium, therefore unnoticed - has truly revolutionized architecture. Air conditioning has launched the endless building. If architecture separates buildings, air conditioning unites them. Air conditioning has dictated mutant regimes of organization and coexistence that leave architecture behind.
A single shopping center now is the work of generations of space planners, repairmen and fixers, like in the Middle Ages; air conditioning sustains our cathedrals. Unwittingly, all architects may be working on the same building, so far separate, but with hidden receptors that will eventually make it cohere.
Because it costs money, is no longer free, conditioned space inevitably becomes conditional space; sooner or later all conditional space turns into Junkspace When we think about space, we have only looked at its containers. As if space itself is invisible, all theory for the production of space is based on an obsessive preoccupation with its opposite: substance and objects, i.
Architects could never explain space; Junkspace is our punishment for their mystifications. OK, let's talk about space then. The beauty of airports, especially after each upgrade. The luster of renovations. The subtlety of the shopping center. Let's explore public space, discover casinos, spend time in theme parks Junkspace is the body double of space, a territory of impaired vision, limited expectation, reduced earnestness.
Junkspace is a Bermuda triangle of concepts, a petri dish abandoned: it cancels distinctions, undermines resolve, confuses intention with realization. It replaces hierarchy with accumulation, composition with addition. More and more, more is more. Junkspace is overripe and undernourishing at the same time, a colossal security blanket that covers the earth in a stranglehold of seduction Junkspace is like being condemned to a perpetual Jacuzzi with millions of your best friends A fuzzy empire of blur, it fuses high and low, public and private, straight and bent, bloated and starved to offer a seamless patchwork of the permanently disjointed.
Seemingly an apotheosis, spatially grandiose, the effect of its richness is a terminal hollowness, a vicious parody of ambition that systematically erodes the credibility of building, possibly forever Space was created by piling matter on top of matter, cemented to form a solid new whole. Junkspace is additive, layered and lightweight, not articulated in different parts but subdivided, quartered the way a carcass is torn apart - individual chunks severed from a universal condition. There are no walls, only partitions, shimmering membranes frequently covered in mirror or gold.
Structure groans invisibly underneath decoration, or worse, has become ornamental; small shiny space frames support nominal loads, or huge beams deliver cyclopic burdens to unsuspecting destinations The arch, once the workhorse of structures, has become the depleted emblem of 'community,' welcoming an infinity of virtual populations to non-existent there's. Where it is absent, it is simply applied - mostly in stucco - as ornamental afterthought on hurriedly erected superblocks.
Like a substance that could have condensed in any other form, Junkspace is a domain of feigned, simulated order, a kingdom of morphing. Its specific configuration is as fortuitous as the geometry of a snowflake. Patterns imply repetition or ultimately decipherable rules; Junkspace is beyond measure, beyond code Because it cannot be grasped, Junkspace cannot be remembered.
It is flamboyant yet unmemorable, like a screensaver; its refusal to freeze insures instant amnesia. Junkspace does not pretend to create perfection, only interest. Its geometries are unimaginable, only makeable. Although strictly non-architectural, it tends to the vaulted, to the Dome. Sections seem to be devoted to utter inertness, others in perpetual rhetorical turmoil: the deadest resides next to the most hysterical.
Themes cast a pall of arrested development over interiors as big as the Pantheon, spawning stillbirths in every corner. The aesthetic is Byzantine, gorgeous and dark, splintered into thousands of shards, all visible at the same time: a quasi-panoptical universe in which all contents rearrange themselves in split-seconds around the dizzy eye of the beholder. Murals used to show idols; Junkspace's modules are dimensioned to carry brands; myths can be shared, brands husband aura at the mercy of focus groups.
Brands in Junkspace perform the same role as black holes in the universe: essences through which meaning disappears The shiniest surfaces in the history of mankind reflect humanity at its most casual. The more we inhabit the palatial, the more we seem to dress down. A stringent dress code - last spasm of etiquette? As if the People suddenly accessed the private quarters of a dictator, Junkspace is best enjoyed in a state of post-revolutionary gawking.
Polarities have merged, there is nothing left between desolation and frenzy. Neon signifies both the old and the new; interiors refer to the Stone and the Space Age at the same time. Like the deactivated virus in an inoculation, Modern architecture remains essential, but only in its most sterile manifestation, High Tech it seemed so dead only a decade ago! It exposes what previous generations kept under wraps: structures emerge like springs from a mattress, exit stairs dangle in didactic trapeze, probes thrust into space to deliver laboriously what is in fact omnipresent, free air, acres of glass hang from spidery cables, tautly stretched skins enclose flaccid non-events.
Transparency only reveals everything in which you cannot partake. At the sound of midnight it all may revert to Taiwanese Gothic, in three years segue into Nigerian Sixties, Norwegian Chalet or default Christian. Earthlings now live in a kindergarten grotesque Junkspace thrives on design, but design dies in Junkspace. There is no form, only proliferation Regurgitation is the new creativity; instead of creation, we honor, cherish and embrace manipulation Superstrings of graphics, transplanted emblems of franchise and sparkling infrastructures of light, LEDs, and video describe an authorless world beyond anyone's claim, always unique, utterly unpredictable, yet intensely familiar.
Junkspace is hot or suddenly artic ; fluorescent walls, folded like melting stained glass, generate additional heat to raise the temperature of Junkspace to levels where you could cultivate orchids. Pretending histories left and right, its contents are dynamic yet stagnant, recycled or multiplied as in cloning: forms search for function like hermit crabs for a vacant shell Junkspace sheds architectures like a reptile sheds skins, is reborn every Monday morning.
In previous building, materiality was based on a final state that could only be modified at the expense of partial destruction. At the exact moment that our culture has abandoned repetition and regularity as repressive, building materials have become more and more modular, unitary and standardized; substance now comes predigitized As the module becomes smaller and smaller, its status becomes that of a crypto-pixel. With enormous difficulty - budget, argument, negotiation, deformation - irregularity and uniqueness are constructed from identical elements.
Instead of trying to wrest order from chaos, the picturesque now is wrested from the homogenized, the singular liberated from the standardized Architects thought of Junkspace first and named it Megastructure, the final solution to transcend their huge impasse. Like multiple Babels, huge superstructures would last through eternity, teeming with impermanent subsystems that would mutate over time, beyond their control.
In Junkspace, the tables are turned: it is subsystems only, without superstructure, orphaned particles in search of framework or pattern. All materialization is provisional: cutting, bending, tearing, coating: construction has acquired a new softness, like tailoring The joint is no longer a problem, an intellectual issue: transitional moments are defined by stapling and taping, wrinkly brown bands barely maintain the illusion of an unbroken surface; verbs unknown and unthinkable in architectural history - clamp, stick, fold, dump, glue, shoot, double, fuse - have become indispensable.
Each element performs its task in negotiated isolation. Where once detailing suggested the coming together, possibly forever, of disparate materials, it is now a transient coupling, waiting to be undone, unscrewed, a temporary embrace with a high probability of separation; no longer the orchestrated encounter of difference, but the abrupt end of a system, a stalemate. Only the blind, reading its fault lines with their fingertips, will ever understand Junkspace's histories While whole millennia worked in favor of permanence, axialities, relationships and proportion, the program of Junkspace is escalation.
Instead of development, it offers entropy. Because it is endless, it always leaks somewhere in Junkspace; in the worst case, monumental ashtrays catch intermittent drops in a gray broth When did time stop moving forward, begin to spool in every direction, like a tape spinning out of control? Change has been divorced from the idea of improvement.
There is no progress; like a crab on LSD, culture staggers endlessly sideways The average contemporary lunch box is a microcosm of Junkspace: a fervent semantics of health - slabs of eggplant, topped by thick layers of goat cheese - cancelled by a colossal cookie at the bottom Junkspace is draining and is drained in return.
Everywhere in Junkspace there are seating arrangements, ranges of modular chairs, even couches, as if the experience Junkspace offers its consumers is significantly more exhausting than any previous spatial sensation; in its most abandoned stretches, you find buffets: utilitarian tables draped in white or black sheets, perfunctory assemblies of caffeine and calories - cottage cheese, muffins, unripe grapes - notional representations of plenty, without horn and without plenty.
Each Junkspace is connected, sooner or later, to bodily functions: wedged between stainless-steel partitions sit rows of groaning Romans, denim togas bunched around their huge sneakers Because it is so intensely consumed, Junkspace is fanatically maintained, the night shift undoing the damage of the day shift in an endless Sisyphean replay.
As you recover from Junkspace, Junkspace recovers from you: between 2 and 5 am, yet another population, this one heartlessly casual and appreciably darker, is mopping, hovering, sweeping, toweling, resupplying Junkspace does not inspire loyalty in its cleaners Dedicated to instant gratification, Junkspace accommodates seeds of future perfection; a language of apology is woven through its texture of canned euphoria; 'pardon our appearance' signs or miniature yellow 'sorry' billboards mark ongoing patches of wetness, announce momentary discomfort in return for imminent shine, the allure of improvement.
Somewhere, workers sink on their knees to repair faded sections - as if in a prayer - or half-disappear in ceiling voids to negotiate elusive malfunction - as if in confession. All surfaces are archaeological, superpositions of different 'periods' what do you call the moment a particular type of wall-to-wall carpet was current? Traditionally, typology implies demarcation, the definition of a singular model that excludes other arrangements. Junkspace represents a reverse typology of cumulative, approximative identity, less about kind than about quantity.
But formlessness is still form, the formless also a typology Take the dump, where successive trucks discharge their loads to form a heap, whole in spite of the randomness of its contents and its fundamental shapelessness, or that of the tent-envelope that assumes different shapes to accommodate variable interior volumes. Or the vague crotches of the new generation. Junkspace can either be absolutely chaotic or frighteningly aseptic - like a best-seller - overdetermined and indeterminate at the same time.
There is something strange about ballrooms, for instance: huge wastelands kept column-free for ultimate flexibility. Because you've never been invited to that kind of event, you have never seen them in use, only being prepared with chilling precision: a relentless grid of circular tables, extending towards a distant horizon, their diameters preempting communication, a dais big enough for the politburo of a totalitarian state, wings announcing as yet unimagined surprises - acres of organization to support future drunkenness, disarray and disorder.
Or car shows Junkspace is often described as a space of flows, but that is a misnomer; flows depend on disciplined movement, bodies that cohere. Junkspace is a web without spider; although it is an architecture of the masses, each trajectory is strictly unique. Its anarchy is one of the last tangible ways in which we experience freedom. It is a space of collision, a container of atoms, busy, not dense There is a special way of moving in Junkspace, at the same time aimless and purposeful.
It is an acquired culture. Where movement becomes synchronized, it curdles: on escalators, near exits, parking machines, automated tellers. Sometimes, under duress, individuals are channeled in a flow, pushed through a single door or forced to negotiate the gap between two temporary obstacles an invalid's bleeping chariot and a Christmas tree : the manifest ill will such narrowing provokes, mocks the notion of flows.
Flows in Junkspace lead to disaster: department stores at the beginning of sales, the stampedes triggered by warring compartments of soccer fans, dead bodies piling up in front of the locked emergency doors of a disco: evidence of the misfit between the portals of Junkspace and the narrow calibrations of the old world. Within the meta-playground of Junkspace exist smaller playgrounds, Junkspace for children usually in the least desirable square footage : sections of sudden miniaturization - often underneath staircases, always near dead ends - assemblies of under-dimensioned plastic structures - slides, seesaws, swings - shunned by their intended audience - kids - turned into junkniche for the old, the lost, the forgotten, the insane Traffic is Junkspace, from airspace to the subway; the entire highway system is Junkspace, a vast potential utopia clogged by its users, as you notice when they've finally disappeared on vacation Like radioactive waste, Junkspace has an insidious half-life.
Aging in Junkspace is nonexistent or catastrophic; sometimes an entire Junkspace - a department store, a nightclub, a bachelor pad - turns into a slum overnight without warning: wattage diminishes imperceptibly, letters drop out of signs, air conditioning units start dripping, cracks appear as if from otherwise unregistered earthquakes; sections rot, are no longer viable, but remain joined to the flesh of the main body via gangrenous passages.
Judging the built presumed a static condition; now each architecture embodies opposite conditions simultaneously: old and new, permanent and temporary, flourishing and at risk Sections undergo an Alzheimer-like deterioration as others are upgraded. Because Junkspace is endless, it is never closed Renovation and restoration were procedures that took place in your absence; now you're a witness, a reluctant participant Seeing Junkspace in conversion is like inspecting an unmade bed, someone else's.
Say an airport needs more space. In the past new terminals were added, each more or less characteristic of its own age, leaving the old ones as a readable record, evidence of progress. Since passengers have definitively demonstrated their infinite malleability, the idea of rebuilding on the spot has gained currency.
Travelators are thrown in reverse, signs taped, potted palms or very large corpses covered in body bags. Screens of taped sheetrock segregate two populations: one wet, one dry, one hard, one flabby, one cold, one overheated. Half the population produces new space, the more affluent half consumes old space.
To accommodate a nether world of manual labor, the concourse suddenly turns into casbah: improvised locker rooms, coffee breaks, smoking, even real campfires The ceiling is a crumpled plate like the Alps; grids of unstable tiles alternate with monogrammed sheets of black plastic, improbably punctured by grids of crystal chandeliers Metal ducts are replaced by breathing textiles.
Gaping joints reveal vast ceiling voids former canyons of asbestos? Impure, tortured and complex, they exist only because they were never consciously plotted. The floor is a patchwork: different textures - concrete, hairy, heavy, shiny, plastic, metallic, muddy — alternate randomly, as if dedicated to different species The ground is no more.
There are too many raw needs to be realized on only one plane. The absolute horizontal has been abandoned. Transparency has disappeared, replaced by a dense crust of provisional occupation: kiosks, carts, strollers, palms, fountains, bars, sofas, trolleys Corridors no longer simply link A to B, but have become 'destinations. All perspective is gone, as in a rainforest itself disappearing, they keep saying The formerly straight is coiled into ever more complex configurations.
Only a perverse modernist choreography can explain the twists and turns, ascents and descents, sudden reversals that comprise the typical path from check-in misleading name to apron of the average contemporary airport. There was once a polemic about the right angle and the straight line; now the 90th degree has become one among many. In fact, remnants of former geometries create ever new havoc, offering forlorn nodes of resistance that create unstable eddies in newly opportunistic flows Who would dare claim responsibility for this sequence?
The idea that a profession once dictated, or at least presumed to predict, people's movements, now seems laughable, or worse: unthinkable. Instead of design, there is calculation: the more erratic the path, eccentric the loops, hidden the blueprint, the more efficient the exposure, inevitable the transaction.
In this war, graphic designers are the great turncoats: where once signage promised to deliver you to where you wanted to be, it now obfuscates and entangles you in a thicket of cuteness that forces you past unwanted detours, turns you back when you're lost. Trajectories are launched as ramp, turn horizontal without any warning, intersect, fold down, suddenly emerge on a vertiginous balcony above a large void.
Fascism minus dictator. From the sudden dead end where you were dropped by a monumental, granite staircase, an escalator takes you to an invisible destination, facing a provisional vista of plaster, inspired by forgettable sources. There is no datum level; you always inhabit a sandwich. Toilet groups mutate into Disney Store then morph to become meditation center: successive transformations mock the word 'plan.
In this standoff between the redundant and the inevitable, a plan would actually make matters worse, drive you to instant despair. Only the diagram gives a bearable version. There is zero loyalty - and zero tolerance - toward configuration, no 'original' condition; architecture has turned into a time-lapse sequence to reveal a 'permanent evolution' The only certainty is conversion - continuous - followed, in rare cases, by 'restoration,' the process that claims ever new sections of history as extensions of Junkspace.
History corrupts, absolute history corrupts absolutely. Color and matter are eliminated from these bloodless grafts: the bland has become the only meeting ground for the old and the new Can the bland be amplified? The featureless be exaggerated? Through height? Sometimes not overload but its opposite, an absolute absence of detail, generates Junkspace.
A voided condition of frightening sparseness, shocking proof that so much can be organized by so little. Laughable emptiness infuses the respectful distance or tentative embrace that starchitects maintain in the presence of the past, authentic or not. Invariably, the primordial decision is to leave the original intact; the formerly residual is declared the new essence, focus of the intervention. As a first step, the substance to be preserved is wrapped in a thick pack of commerce and catering - like a reluctant skier pushed downhill by responsible minders.
To show respect, symmetries are maintained and helplessly exaggerated; ancient building techniques are resurrected and honed to irrelevant shine, quarries reopened to excavate the 'same' stone, indiscreet donor names chiseled prominently in the meekest of typefaces; the courtyard covered by a masterful, structural 'filigree' - emphatically uncompetitive - so that continuity may be established with the 'rest' of Junkspace abandoned galleries, display slums, Jurassic concepts
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There are 56 different strategies that it uses to place bets. As well as the software, it also comes with a manual. This is called Win At Betting. If you are new to Betfair and bots then it is a decent starting point. How much does it cost to join?
They use the Cloud bet Bot platform. This is an automated betting software provider that is licensed by Betfair. It uses analysis based on jockeys and trainers. This makes it possible to bet on different horses in one race. You are in charge of your stakes. There are two options in this respect. One is for Dutch betting with low liability. The other is back betting with fixed amounts. You can also choose from the Betfair Starting Price or live to the exchange. In addition, if you want to you can get bets placed automatically.
Then leave it running with no further input needed. The Dutch staking plan has a predicted annual profit of points. If you opt for straight back betting, the annual profit is expected to be 10, points. You can choose to opt for both plans at once if you like. It is based on the popular lay the draw bet but makes it easier to place. The team at winningmore is behind this automated betting software.
They say that it is a low-cost way to get a competitive advantage. You can now lay the bet without having to be there to follow the action. Extra options let you do things like set the time for exiting and profit percentage figure. It is easy to use and there are videos to get you started. Remember that you still need to research the upcoming matches. You then choose which ones to bet on. Therefore, the amount you can win depends upon the choices you make.
What it does is automate the option out of the betting. Once the game starts, the bot makes the decisions based on your chosen rules. There are a number of different reasons for using software like this. As we have seen, there are several types of automated betting software. Therefore, not everyone will be suited to the same one. In general, the following are the types of people who might be interested. Newcomers to trading and betting.
They might like a tool that makes it easy to get started. People who are short of time.
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