On Money #It'sOn
I was watching one of my favorite podcasts called "What is Money?" This episode happened to be a compilation one, whereby Robert, a man after my own heart, puts together snippets from past shows as he talks to guests about money.
One thing is clear. Robert Breedlove is unbearably handsome. This is important for me to say because when I first started watching this podcast, I was on a quest to better understand money and what I missed. Each year, I created our family budget, I tracked down cost, called companies to reduce our bills but for some reason, we couldn't get ahead in life. The only sure thing was that I was getting deeper and deeper in debt, when my expressed goal was to get out of debt. I would fantasize about the day when I paid all my debt down so I can finally sleep at night. I coined the phrase my "leased life" since all my belongings were on "layaway."
We were renting an apartment not owning a house. Our cars were new but leased. We had clothes on our back and food on the table, but mounting credit card bills. My then husband and I had good jobs but couldn't afford "real life." A life that was afforded human dignity. We might as well have been indentured servants, living in the British Empire, not America the Beautiful.
At the time, I started watching alternative media to address health issues and learned so much about what was wrong with the conventional healthcare system. More on that later. I decided to address money next. Incidentally, just the other day, I pitched an idea to Robert in my head, to create a podcast on "What is Family?" And that's why Robert is like family to me, even though we’ve never met.
But I digress. In this episode, he has a clip of a gold bug who does not understand the case for Bitcoin. She doesn't understand the value of a money that does not have utility, as she puts it. Robert struggles to understand her reasoning. She has identified the problem correctly, like most gold bugs, but why does she not get that Bitcoin is the answer. Then he asks the QUESTION? How do you define utility? That's it! Words matter. Robert gets it and it is as if he can read my brain. It's uncanny! How does he do that?
People waste so much time talking past each other because they mean "x" and the person hears "y." She explains that gold has other uses such as manufacturing, dentistry, jewelry and such. She says, Bitcoin is not real because it is not physical, therefore it does not have value. And that's when it hits me. She doesn't understand that digital entities are real. Very real. I start imagining cryptographic keys in my head and the security they provide. How can that not be real?
I started "conversing"'with Robert in my head. Doesn't she know that life is ephermeal? Does she not know that physical matter poses a false sense of security? I propose to Robert that I write a post on money and weave in the philosophical idea of the tenuous nature of life with the idea that money having to be physical being a red herring. If anything, the mere fact that Robert is having a conversation with her across space and time, both existing in different locations proves the value of digital solutions that have become indispensable, and power our modern world.
Robert goes easy on her. He doesn't go for the hard sell of Bitcoin. I am humbled by the way Bitcoiners are not pushy when orange pilling non-Bitcoin believers. Marty Bent is similar in his approach, a cool cucumber. I am not like that; I am full on. I wish I could be that cool.
For a long time, I worried about whether I watched that podcast because I was attracted to Robert since I am red-blooded woman with a healthy endocrine system (RIP David Foster Wallace) or if it was because I truly wanted to understand money. I dedicated a fair amount of brain power to this question. In the end, I deduced that I am genuine in my intentions about understanding money. I find myself often thinking along similar lines, if not the same thoughts as Robert, as I mentioned. He intellectualizes everything, even love. He introduced me to the idea of love coming in three forms, eros, agape and philia. As someone who struggles with love, it is comforting to find another who uses the consolation of philosophy to survive heartache. I favor Schopenhauer myself.
To me, Robert is a "brother in arms." We are both navigating the dirty waters of life (RIP David Foster Wallace) trying to use our brains to live La Dolce Vita. He is not an object of my affection, he is a life line. I need to find freedom. For that, I need security and money. Bitcoin is the ultimate secure money. There is no second best. Thank you, Robert Breedlove.
On FUD #It'sOn
Bitcoin is the answer to the problem of financial inclusion of the world's poorest members of society including access to technology innovations. If the advent of mobile computing devices taught the world anything, it is that countries can leapfrog over other steps on the path to industrialization previously followed by the top GDP producing states and operate on an even keel, or level playing field, previously denied to them through unfair practices propagated by so-called "international development agencies" and "non governmental organizations." Most people nowadays own the latest mobile smart phones and transact fully in the global marketplace, sometimes even unbeknownst to them. Such is the power of these technological marvels in the world. To assume that this trend will somehow stop and reverse with the introduction of digital money is a false argument and can only be thought of as "Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt." In other words, FUD. Once, Bitcoin is mainstream, the world population will be bootstrapped to a hard money standard, a monetary network that accumulates value exponentially over time. If this isn't the very definition of lifting people up and out of poverty, then you do not understand Bitcoin. Enjoy the ride.
Alright fellow psychopaths. I need your help.
For a few weeks now I've been drafting this turn-key response to FinCEN and their absurd proposal for CVC mixing, etc.
I want you to take action and use what I wrote in this proposal to post comments into the register - less than a minute to perform and all the links are in the document.
Accelerate. Take Action. #Bitcoin
https://egodeath.capital/blog/fincen-may-be-violating-your-rights-bitcoin
On Policing #It'sOn
Alright fellow psychopaths. I need your help.
For a few weeks now I've been drafting this turn-key response to FinCEN and their absurd proposal for CVC mixing, etc.
I want you to take action and use what I wrote in this proposal to post comments into the register - less than a minute to perform and all the links are in the document.
Accelerate. Take Action. #Bitcoin
https://egodeath.capital/blog/fincen-may-be-violating-your-rights-bitcoin
On it ;)
On Yellen #It'sOn
Matteo, I had a dream last night and you were in it.nothing inappropriate, don't worry. I know you are a married man. But as a Bitcoiner, I think you will like it :) You and I are sitting in a room, maybe a restaurent or bar. It is black and red in decor and very atmospheric. We are at a table and we just solved a puzzle or problem. Eureka! I know, I know. Greek not Italian lol. We are excited to get up and go to try it out for real. Does our solution actually work? But this older woman stops us in our tracks. It's Janet Yellen. We sit back down on the table, annoyed but respectful. She tells us some sob story with her head turned away from us, involving supernatural beings. We don't believe a word she says. You and I know she is totally lying but we don't interrupt. We listen because we are good people and she is an older, helpless woman. She takes your hand for comfort and you let her hold your hand! I am both surprised and annoyed but I say nothing. All of a sudden, in the most unnatural reflex, you jerk your hand away from her and your body as if it is a cursed limb. She overdid it. I wake up. Btw, last night I remembered you posted a picture of you in front of the SEC building in DC, and you said you were applying for Bitcoin as a security. You asked us to wish you luck. I smiled and thought you are funny. Good sense of humor. I wonder if that's why I had that weird dream. That's it.
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Apologies, Nostr. I know the cardinal rule. Friends don't let friends go to X. But seeing is believing.
On Red #It'sOn
On Shadow-banning #It'sOn
For some strange reason or coincidence, my substack, posts here and on X (formerly known as Twitter) are not showing up or logging views. This after, I confirmed a friend of mine, clicked the link to read at least one post. It still shows zero clicks. Anyone know how to fix this problem? Because I am tired of being invisible.
On Maysa #It'sOn
I woke up and settled into my day to day routine. I immediately smoothed the bed. I was aware that I was not on script. I had diverged from the set piece, the tracks laid down to trap me into being confused with Maysa. People are seeing in real time that we are different people and Maysa has nowhere to hide. Maysa is panicking and is trying to force me into compliance somehow. I notice that my gums inside my mouth hold another set of teeth, another mouth. This fact is news to me and I am horrified by it. But then, I think to myself that everyone has this physiology; it's not just me. I calm down.
I head to the bathroom to start my day. In the bathroom, I don't turn on the light and I see my reflection in the mirror. I can barely make myself out in the dim light; I appear as dark shadows. My hair has twisted curls jutting out in all directions. It reminds me of a painting I had and lost in real life. I think to myself that I look like Medusa except I don't see any snakes, only hair. Thank god because I am deathly afraid of snakes. Last time I was at a zoo, in London, with Aymen, Yanush, Dawid, and their nanny, I refused to enter the reptiles pavilion and see the snakes. The nanny and I (weirdly enough she didn't accompany the children) waited on a bench outside while they went in on their own.
All of a sudden, I hear the door opening. It's a policeman, a black man. Just like the one who attacked me as I lay in my bed, with his buddy, a White guy, just watching. Where are the good guys when you need them? The policeman's uniform is off, not quite regulation. I stopped him in his track and chase him out the door. He tries to get away. For some reason, we are in some sort of government building, not a residential place. There is a guard sitting at the intersection of the hallway and the main lobby. I corner the policeman and start shouting at him in front of everyone present. I accuse him of breaking and entering, which is a felony. No one seems moved by this. The policeman is not scared. I stop a woman walking by us. She is Black, well-dressed and groomed. She has a buzz cut that suits her smiling face. I ask her if it is Ok for the policeman to enter her house when she is alone, without invitation. To my surprise, she says yes. I am flabbergasted. I try again. I ask her is it is OK for the policeman to do this to her daughter. She doesn't answer. I wake up, this time in real life.
I am instantly scared. My "dream" mirrors my real life to such an extent that I feel violated. How did my dreaming self know about my real life? I start thinking about the details of the dream. I remember Mona once complaining to me about being Cruella, from the Disney movie, which was released fairly recently at the time. I countered reflex-ably that I was Medusa. I knew the power of Medusa as a mythological figure from a childhood movie I watched as a kid titled, "The Medusa's Touch" with Richard Burton. That movie is no movie for kids, I tell you. But our parents were really liberal with us when it came to cinema. I grew up watching the most inappropriate stuff a kid could watch, short of porn.
I almost don't want to get out of bed, the dream is such a horror. I notice a hole that's growing bigger in the glass door that separates my bedroom from the sitting room. How did that happen? Is there a ghost roaming my apartment wreaking havoc, destroying my belongings? I want answers. Who will give me answers? Erik? Erik Stubblefield? There is something in the air. Maybe my mom is finally waking up to the truth of what Maysa has done. Maysa is trying to push Sulafa on me, as I lay in bed. Just like before. I listen for the noise as it works out truth from fiction. I chime in, yes, I am Noha, not Maysa. Yes, we are different people. Yes, Maysa has ruined my life and marriage. Yes, ignore Maysa's sorrys and stop her now. Yes, Maysa is not British, so sorrys don't apply. Yes, I want to be up there with you. Yes, I am sane. Yes, I am in perfect health. Ouch, something just hurt my stomach, like a foreign object trying to lodge itself inside me. No, I am not pregnant. Who is the little girl in the elevator, staring me down, as her mom, a woman of Asian (not Southeast Asian) persuasion with Instagram worthy eyebrows, types furiously into her mobile phone? Should I be scared of the people in my building? Yes, I am suffering. Yes, I am scared. Yes, please stop Maysa now. Now!
On Crypto #It'sOn 
On Riots #It'sOn
On OrangePilling #It'sOn 
