Instead, he found a strange sense of conviction among people who believe monetary history isn’t just academic—it’s the key to understanding what comes next. (Guess who plays the inspired speaker at the Meetup nostr:nprofile1qyt8wue69uhh2mtzwfjkctnvda3kzmp6xsurgwqpz4mhxue69uhk2er9dchxummnw3ezumrpdejqqgxy3c5lqj6g9nqpeg0ea7xgdmurrrq9nc8fx5er2930pq8jdc2vzyu7yza6). Here's the scene:

Lucas slipped into the pub just as the Meetup began.

No podiums or projectors—just a side room in a local bar. Sticky floors. Dartboards. The faint smell of fryer grease. Scattered tables, nearly all filled.

At a tall table near the wall sat a man in his 30s—golden hair, calm voice. A laptop was open in front of him.

“Thanks for coming,” he began. “Tonight, we’re talking about a lecture Mises gave in Argentina in 1959. He believed economics shouldn’t be locked away in ivory towers—it should be accessible to anyone who thinks clearly.”

Lucas took a seat along the wall. The lights were low, the room intent. Something about it—the informality, the focus—reminded him of a scene from a colonial tavern, where restless minds once passed around early drafts of Common Sense. It felt less like a lecture, more like a quiet search for something solid beneath a shifting world.

He glanced at the handout:

Lecture 4: Inflation https://mises.org/online-book/economic-policy-thoughts-today-and-tomorrow/4th-lecture-inflation

YouTube: https://youtu.be/VpvwgDjQLGA?si=jG9gykqBScqaWTmo

The speaker continued:

Mises explained, “When a government increases the quantity of paper money, the result is that the purchasing power of the monetary unit begins to drop, and so prices rise. This is called inflation.”

Lucas leaned forward. Maybe the rising cost of living wasn’t just supply chains or corporate greed. Maybe the problem ran deeper—maybe it was the money itself.

The talk moved quickly—16th century Spanish gold flooding the Old World, Weimar Germany, modern governments printing what they can’t tax.

Same pattern, different century:

When money’s easy to make, things start to break.

By the end, Lucas’ mind buzzed—unsettled and overloaded.

He stood quietly, aiming for the door.

“First time?”

Lucas turned.

The voice came from a man in a dark jacket. Late 50s, maybe. Worn face, watchful eyes. The kind of presence that didn’t ask to be noticed.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “Was it that obvious?”

“No. Just familiar.”

The man extended a hand. “Thomas.”

“Lucas.”

They shook.

“Something you’re looking for?” Thomas asked.

Lucas hesitated. “I… I’m trying to do everything right—work, save, invest—and somehow I still feel behind. I can’t say what’s wrong, but something’s off. Like I missed the part where the rules changed.”

Thomas nodded slowly. “Most people don’t notice until it’s already happening.”

There was a pause. Lucas waited for more, but Thomas didn’t offer it.

“You like to walk?” Thomas asked.

“Sure.”

“I’m at the river most mornings. Come if you want. Sometimes things make more sense in motion.”

Lucas hesitated, then nodded.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Thomas smiled. “Good. Just one rule.”

“What’s that?”

“No scrolling.”