What if Bitcoin is the Second Coming of self-sovereignty?

Jesus was the symbolic dissident of the Pax Romana. Bitcoin is the symbolic dissident of the Pax Americana.

What if Bitcoin is the Second Coming of the Self-sovereignty?

The year is 2035. The barista at Starbucks asks you how you’d like to pay for your venti Ayahuasca Cold Brew with ozempic foam & BPC-157 peptide sprinkles: (1) $15.99 USD (2) 533 Starbucks coins (~$8.99) (3) 21 satoshis (~$1.99) Which do you choose Anon?

Bitcoin straddles the line between Exit and Voice. My vote of no confidence in the dollar is an expression of my free speech and a voluntary exit from a legacy system that no longer serves me. We Bitcoiners are taking collective action in search of a better alternative. That’s the epitome of self-sovereignty. We are walking the talk.

"To be wild is not to be crazy or psychotic. True wildness is a love of nature, a delight in silence, a voice free to say spontaneous things, and an exuberant curiosity in the face of the unknown."

Your book is great so far, brother. Deeply informative & insightful read.

Elephants are red. Donkeys are blue. Doesn’t matter who’s in charge, it’s the money printer versus you.

“Wisdom is a question of grasping the coherence of things and time, of deciphering oneself, and of penetrating one’s own becoming and dying. The truth is always an abyss. One must — as in a swimming pool — dare to dive from the quivering springboard of trivial everyday experience and sink into the depths, in order later to rise again — laughing and fighting for breath — to the now doubly illuminated surface of things.”

Witches call it spells. Christians call it prayer. Buddhists call it One Taste. Spiritualists call it manifestation. Scientists call it the placebo effect. Atheists call it happenstance. Jung calls it synchronicities. Philosophers call it Being. Physicists call it the Observer Effect. Poets call it inspiration. Artists call it the muse. Mystics call it gnosis. Hippies call it vibes. Hackers call it signal. Psychologists call it flow state. Economists call it animal spirits. Lovers call it chemistry. Gamblers call it luck. And children—before they forget—just call it magic. Everyone is arguing over its name. No one is denying its existence. It’s the force that bends probability around intention, that tunes the universe to attention when consciousness enters the room. You don’t summon it—you sync with it. That’s energy. Civilization builds temples around it. Ideologies are quick to label it God. False prophets will package it up and sell it for a profit. The bodhisattva will dedicate their life to it. But it doesn’t belong to any of them. It belongs to the silence between your thoughts, the stillness between your breaths, the spark at the center of your darkness. Once you feel it, you’ve seen the universe blink back and you stop looking for it. You start listening instead.