It sure feels that the “sound money” investor is a very small group.

Is what has been happening with bitcoin, sideways action, what 1 bitcoin = 1 bitcoin feels like?

It was a joke. Edward Bernays was the father of propaganda. Before him people ate a smaller breakfast. He was commissioned by industry to change American habits. And he did.

A true Bernaysiath

Bitcoin’s recent decoupling from both stocks and gold does not mark the end of its story; it marks a transition from a speculative “beta trade” into a monetary thesis in its own right. The very fact that it no longer obediently rises whenever tech stocks or precious metals rally is precisely what strengthens the case that, when the old pillars of portfolios begin to crack together, Bitcoin will emerge as the alternative vault for global savings. In this light, Peter Schiff’s latest proclamation that “the Bitcoin trade is over” is less a diagnosis of terminal decline than an illustration of how hard it is for incumbents of the old order to recognize the birth of a new monetary regime. Schiff’s critique rests on a simple pattern: if Bitcoin does not rally with tech stocks and does not rally with gold and silver, then it must be finished. Implicit in this logic is the assumption that Bitcoin’s legitimacy depends on tracking the performance of legacy assets, as if its only purpose were to be a leveraged sidecar to what already exists. But that is a misunderstanding of what a base money contender actually is. A new monetary asset does not prove itself by moving in lockstep with the assets it is ultimately meant to replace; it proves itself by surviving when those assets fail to provide the security they promised. In that sense, decoupling is not a bug but a prerequisite. For more than a decade, markets largely treated Bitcoin as a kind of hyper‑volatile tech stock with a mythology attached. It rode the same liquidity waves as growth equities, sold off when macro tightened, and often behaved like a high‑beta play on the broader risk cycle. At the same time, Bitcoin repeatedly flirted with a “digital gold” narrative, drawing comparisons to gold’s scarcity and independence from corporate cash flows, yet its price often failed to mirror gold’s defensive strength during acute periods of fear. This dual identity—part tech, part gold—kept it trapped conceptually: too wild to be a hedge, too monetary to be just another startup. The current break from both stocks and gold is the market’s way of resolving that contradiction. To see why this matters, consider how investors normally feel “hedged” within the existing system. When tech stocks soar, portfolios look healthy and risk feels rewarded. When fear rises and growth fades, gold tends to step in as the venerable, centuries‑old refuge, a metal whose reputation as a store of value is backed by tradition and war stories. As long as one of these two pillars appears to be doing its job, there is little urgency to reach for a new, politically neutral base money. The comfort of diversification—stocks for upside, gold for downside—keeps capital anchored inside the same underlying framework: claims denominated in, or settled through, the dominant fiat currency. However, that comfort is only as solid as the system beneath it. Stocks are ultimately claims on future cash flows in a currency that is constantly being diluted. Gold, outside of physical holders, is often mediated by layers of paper claims, exchange‑traded products, futures, and rehypothecated collateral that may not all be honored under extreme stress. A scenario in which both stocks and gold “work” less and less at the same time is not difficult to imagine: corporate earnings weakened by stagnation or recession, equity multiples pressured by higher risk premia, and gold constrained by policy measures, taxation, or the discovery that paper gold vastly exceeds readily deliverable physical metal. In such an environment, both sides of the traditional barbell begin to look like different flavors of the same risk: dependence on the state‑bank nexus and its credibility. This is where Bitcoin’s apparent failure to behave “correctly” in normal times becomes a strength in abnormal times. If Bitcoin were perfectly locked to tech, it would be nothing more than a speculative derivative on innovation and liquidity cycles. If it were perfectly locked to gold, it would add little that tokenized gold, gold miners, or traditional bullion do not already provide. By breaking from both, Bitcoin signals that it is being repriced as something else: a neutral, non‑sovereign, bearer asset whose long‑term value depends not on quarterly earnings or industrial jewelry demand, but on its role as a parallel monetary system. This transition is rarely smooth. Markets must experiment, discover correlations are unreliable, and eventually learn to price Bitcoin not as a satellite to other assets but as a separate gravitational center. Underneath all of this sits the architecture of the fiat world, with the U.S. dollar at its core. Over the past century, the dollar’s purchasing power has eroded, not by accident but by design. Money creation in the modern system is not neutral; it follows the contours of political power and financial proximity. Those closest to the source of new money—governments, large banks, major corporations—receive it first, while prices have not yet fully adjusted. By the time new money filters out to wages and small savers, asset prices and living costs have risen, leaving those at the periphery holding a weaker unit. This dynamic, known as the Cantillon effect, turns the reserve currency into a quiet engine of wealth redistribution. Calling cash (USD) the “king of distrust, delusion, and Cantillon effect” is therefore not mere rhetoric; it is a description of how the system behaves over decades. Savers are taught to trust a unit that steadily declines in value, while believing that nominal stability is the same as real safety. The delusion lies in confusing the ubiquity of the dollar with its fairness, and mistaking its legal status for moral legitimacy. In practice, every crisis is resolved through more issuance, more intervention, and a steeper hierarchy of winners and losers. Those who can borrow closest to zero enjoy asset inflation; those forced to save in cash absorb the loss. The “king” rules not by preserving wealth impartially, but by quietly taxing the future through dilution. Bitcoin’s core challenge to this order is simple and radical: it removes the throne. There is no issuer whose balance sheet expands and contracts at will, no committee that adjusts supply in response to short‑term political pressure. Its monetary schedule is transparent and inelastic, and its settlement is final without reliance on any particular government or bank. To those embedded in the fiat‑Cantillon world, this looks like a speculative toy whose price swings prove its unseriousness. To those who study monetary history, the volatility looks more like the birth pangs of a new unit of account, as free markets struggle to price an asset that does not bend to the usual levers of policy and credit. From this perspective, Schiff’s statement that “if Bitcoin won’t go up with tech, and won’t go up with gold, it won’t go up at all” reveals an attachment to an old paradigm. He imagines a world where Bitcoin’s only valid role is to hitch a ride on existing winners—where its failure to do so means its narrative has died. But if Bitcoin’s true purpose is to offer an escape from both the equity complex and the gold‑plus‑fiat complex, then the time when neither of those complexes inspires confidence is exactly when Bitcoin’s monetary function will be tested in earnest. In other words, the phase when Bitcoin no longer maps neatly to the performance of other assets is not the epilogue; it is the prologue. The break from stocks and gold, then, increases rather than decreases the probability that, in a future crash regime where both pillars wobble together, Bitcoin will be perceived as the remaining vault not claimed by anyone else’s liabilities. Investors searching for a place to store the residue of their trust will find that cash is explicitly designed to depreciate, that stocks are hostage to earnings and political conditions, and that most gold exposure is mediated through the same institutions that oversee the fiat system. Bitcoin, for all its imperfections, is the only large‑scale asset whose existence and scarcity do not depend on faith in those institutions. When the old king of money—USD under Cantillon rule—finally looks too naked to ignore, markets will not be searching for another subject inside the same court; they will be looking for a new kind of sovereignty entirely. Bitcoin’s independence from the price theater Schiff is watching so closely is exactly what qualifies it for that role.

If I’m reading Mr Schiff comments correctly. Bitcoin is on its own path……. Finally. “If Bitcoin won’t go up when tech stocks rise, and it won’t go up when gold and silver rise, when will it go up? The answer is: it won’t. The Bitcoin trade is over. The suckers are all in. If Bitcoin won’t go up, it can only go down. If HODLers are lucky it won’t be a slow death.” -Peter Schiff

Rotation

A Christmas message to Bitcoiners Throughout history, ideas that fundamentally challenge existing power structures are rarely welcomed by those who benefit from the status quo. Bitcoin, as a decentralized monetary network, finds itself in a position strikingly similar to that of early Christianity: rejected by central authorities, misunderstood by the masses, and sustained primarily by belief among ordinary people rather than endorsement from institutions. While one is a religious movement and the other a technological and monetary innovation, both illustrate a recurring pattern in human history—the collision between emergent belief systems and entrenched authority. Early Christianity arose within a world dominated by religious and political institutions that claimed exclusive authority over truth, law, and legitimacy. The Jewish Temple establishment and the Roman state both viewed Christianity as a destabilizing force. Its teachings bypassed institutional gatekeepers, asserting that spiritual access did not require intermediaries, wealth, or political alignment. This democratization of faith was profoundly threatening. It removed control from centralized authorities and placed it into the hands of individuals, communities, and conscience. Bitcoin similarly challenges modern centralized authority, not in matters of salvation, but in matters of money—arguably one of the most powerful instruments of social organization. Governments and central banks function as the “temple” of modern finance, defining monetary truth, legitimacy, and access. Bitcoin’s rejection by regulatory bodies and state actors mirrors the early institutional rejection of Christianity. It does not ask permission. It does not require trust in a central authority. Instead, it offers a system governed by transparent rules, voluntary participation, and cryptographic verification rather than institutional decree. Both Christianity and Bitcoin were initially embraced not by elites, but by ordinary people. Early Christians were largely drawn from the lower and middle classes, individuals seeking meaning, justice, and hope beyond imperial power and religious hierarchy. Likewise, Bitcoin’s early adopters were not governments or major financial institutions, but individuals disillusioned with inflation, financial exclusion, and systemic instability. In both cases, the appeal was not dominance but liberation—the ability to participate without needing approval from entrenched power. Mass rejection is another shared characteristic. New belief systems rarely enjoy immediate acceptance. Early Christianity was dismissed as heretical, irrational, and dangerous. Bitcoin today is often labeled a scam, a cult, or a tool for criminals. In both cases, critics frequently attack not only the idea itself but the character and intelligence of its adherents. This reaction is less about the merits of the belief and more about discomfort with its implications. If the system works, then the authority of existing institutions is called into question. Belief itself becomes the battleground. Christianity required faith in a message that could not be empirically proven within the frameworks of its time. Bitcoin similarly requires belief—belief that code can substitute for trust, that decentralized consensus can outperform centralized control, and that value can exist outside state decree. In both cases, belief is not blind acceptance but a commitment formed through conviction, experience, and community reinforcement. Finally, both movements demonstrate that belief will always be challenged by non-believers. Skepticism is not merely opposition; it is an inevitable response to any idea that reorders power. Christianity endured centuries of persecution before institutional acceptance. Bitcoin, still in its early stage, remains in its period of testing—socially, politically, and economically. Whether it follows a similar trajectory is unknown, but the pattern is familiar. In conclusion, Bitcoin’s resemblance to early Christianity lies not in doctrine, but in structure and reception. Both emerged outside institutional authority, appealed to the common person, threatened centralized control, and survived through belief rather than permission. History suggests that such ideas are not extinguished by rejection; instead, they are refined by it. Whether spiritual or monetary, belief systems that resonate deeply with human values tend to persist —often long after their critics have faded into footnotes. I for one am staying in the catacombs of self-custody.

If l go to a Square merchant, and he ask me why should he turn on his POS to take bitcoin. Yes he gets a credit card savings, Yada Yada Yada. But what is the most succinct reason. Going to do a little “missionary” work this week.

Spending Inflationary Currency in an Era of Monetary Transition For nearly a century, the U.S. dollar has served as the global reserve currency—a position earned through military power, industrial production, and geopolitical dominance. But over that same period, the dollar has lost over 90% of its purchasing power. Goods and services priced in dollars have steadily risen not because their intrinsic value increased, but because the currency measuring them declined in value. Inflation is a quiet tax, a continuous dilution of individual saving power in exchange for state-controlled liquidity. In such a system, the rational economic actor learns a simple truth: spend inflationary money before it degrades further. Holding dollars long-term is akin to holding melting ice—the longer one waits, the less remains. Spending becomes not only a consumption habit but an investment decision against future loss. For those who understand this mechanism, spending fiat currency is a strategy, not simply an indulgence. It reflects the awareness that idle cash depreciates as governments expand monetary supply through debt issuance and quantitative easing. Bitcoin’s Contrasting Dynamic Bitcoin emerged as a counterweight to precisely this inflationary system. With a fixed supply of 21 million coins, Bitcoin’s issuance curve is transparent and predictable—beyond the control of central banks or nation-states. Over the past decade, prices for goods—measured in Bitcoin—have fallen steadily. This is not deflation in the harmful economic sense, but appreciation of purchasing power. A person who held Bitcoin rather than dollars experienced the opposite dynamic: the ice hardened rather than melted. Yet, since October 2025, Bitcoin has entered what might be called a temporary inflationary state—not because its supply increased, but because its price in USD declined. This apparent inflation is the mirror image of dollar strength, as fiat markets briefly regained relative value through tightening policies and liquidity shocks. When Bitcoin falls against the dollar, its purchasing power temporarily inflates for those using BTC as a pricing unit. But unlike fiat inflation, this is a market-driven repricing, not structural dilution. It will reverse as global liquidity cycles normalize and Bitcoin’s issuance schedule continues its predictable decline. The Relationship Between Fiat Inflation and Bitcoin “Inflation” At a macro level, Bitcoin’s inflationary moments are a reflection of fiat deflationary waves. Central banks can temporarily make the dollar stronger by reducing liquidity, increasing interest rates, or contracting credit. When this happens, all asset prices—including Bitcoin—decline relative to the dollar. Yet nothing about Bitcoin’s intrinsic properties changes; 21 million coins remain fixed. Fiat currencies, on the other hand, are designed to inflate over time. Even during “strong dollar” periods, the long arc of history bends toward devaluation because monetary policy depends on credit expansion. The state’s capacity to issue more units ensures that wealth continually moves from savers to spenders, from private citizens to public balance sheets. Bitcoin reverses that logic: it is a network where issuance is immune to decree, and thus over time it enforces a deflationary bias. The Long Arc Toward a Deflationary Global Currency If Bitcoin—or any neutral, globally adopted digital reserve asset—becomes the standard of value, the world will gradually shift into a deflationary monetary regime. Without a nation-state able to control money creation, the currency’s supply cannot be expanded to finance wars, bailouts, or political agendas. Prices, in such a system, would fall as technology and productivity increase—because money remains scarce while efficiency rises. This would reward savers rather than debtors and foster long-term investment rooted in value creation rather than credit expansion. A deflationary world currency, therefore, represents not just a financial transformation but a moral and civilizational one. It removes the power of arbitrary issuance and restores the discipline of time preference—rewarding those who plan rather than those who print. Until such a system becomes dominant, the strategic approach is clear: spend inflationary currencies while they still hold value, and save in deflationary assets whose supply cannot be tampered with. Adoption Through Strategic Spending Ironically, the same principle that applies to dollars should, at moments, apply to Bitcoin as well. When Bitcoin enters an inflationary state—when its price dips and purchasing power temporarily expands—spending Bitcoin becomes a strategic act of adoption. In these periods, using Bitcoin to buy goods and services seeds the economy with sound money. Merchants who accept Bitcoin during its lower phase end up holding it as it returns to its natural deflationary path, gaining direct exposure to its future appreciation. Thus, spending Bitcoin in its inflationary cycle is not a loss, but a transfer of opportunity. It distributes Bitcoin into broader hands, embeds it in commercial circulation, and accelerates the network effect that eventually restores its price and purchasing strength. In this way, rational actors help drive adoption by understanding the rhythm of Bitcoin’s monetary heartbeat—spending when it inflates, saving when it hardens, and thereby building the foundation for a deflationary world currency untethered from state control.