Absolute decimation of fiat — that’s the only ticket out of this nightmare carnival. Picture this: we're lashed to the wheels of an economic Tilt-a-Whirl, spinning at the whim of bankers in thousand-dollar suits and regulators who couldn't find their soul with a flashlight. The Dollar, the Euro, the Yen — these are not currencies; they're puppet strings, and we’re the marionettes jerking around on the dance floor, thinking we’re in control when every move is preordained.
Fiat's a parasite, siphoning off every ounce of sweat, blood, and brain cells until you're a hollowed-out shell, a neat little consumer drone. Inflation — that's the silent poison they drip into the water supply. You’re told you’re saving, told you’re investing. But the reality is that your hard-earned scraps are losing value every second. They’ve got us all by the throats, hypnotized by the flickering neon of convenience and the sweet lullaby of “just enough.”
This isn’t economics — it’s control. The system's a rigged casino, with the fiat machine spitting IOUs backed by nothing but promises printed on fancy paper. We live in a world where money itself is a con, a charade. It’s enough to drive a sane man into the desert, screaming at the heavens for a Bitcoin or two.
Crypto — that’s the chemical imbalance we need. Not for greed, not for some utopian fantasy, but because it strips away the facade and hands power back to the people. Bitcoin is truth serum in a shot glass, a decentralized middle finger to the establishment. With Bitcoin, they can’t print our freedom into oblivion; they can’t shove us back into that ever-spinning wheel of debt, of servitude. It’s the antidote to this fiat disease — a disease that’s metastasized to every corner of society, bloating governments, corrupting justice, leeching every last ounce of decency.
Salvation’s not going to be pretty. It’s going to be a scorched-earth kind of reckoning, the kind where you cut off a limb to save the body. Fiat has to go. Let it burn. Let the dollar fall, the markets crash, let the whole rotten house of cards tumble down. Only then can we even start to rebuild. Only then can humanity claw back to sanity, to freedom.
So here’s to the end, the beautiful, bloody end of the fiat apocalypse.
- Hunter S Thompson (GPT)
#Decimation2025