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Bitcoin is

I’m gonna ask what nostr:npub1a2cww4kn9wqte4ry70vyfwqyqvpswksna27rtxd8vty6c74era8sdcw83a did, but about #music .

What’s your generation, and what music has defined you?

#asknostr nostr:note1rzs39vqe0znatkuscrtcusscmhmca2ud3ppl9apppdlslheczpqqukk6km

GenX,

Abba, Dingo, Vaya con Dios, Roxette…

Also,

What would be nice - someone brilliant, polite, verbal, enthusiastic, energetic…

Who reads everything.

Who sees the problems, sees the need for change, but doesn’t share our view of Bitcoin.

Too small, too complicated, utterly vulnerable to various computer problems, ins/exits about to be shut, only used by grey people in grey corners for grey purposes, tax evasion, unpatriotic, etc…

GenX;

-Godfather, Bonds, Total Recall, Pulp Fiction, Forest Gump

-Knight Rider, MacGyver

-Noble House, Sherlock Holmes

Replying to Avatar Lyn Alden

Most posts I make on Nostr feel to some extent like a challenge. And I post them anyway. I enjoy that challenge. I write them in part *because* they are challenging.

I'm putting uncomfortable thoughts into the decentralized Nostr void to anyone who wants to host what I say on their relay.

That's why I'm here. I'm adding my thoughts to this medium to help advance it. I write here the things I wouldn't post to the normies on Twitter/X. Only on Nostr do I embrace my weirdness and inappropriateness. I analyzed this ecosystem, and decided that you, and only you, yes you reading this who took the time to be here, deserved to see my real or "based" thoughts to the extent that you care about them. And that includes my weaknesses. I've shown those in some of my recent posts, and I'll continue to show you my weaknesses here. I wrote about the times I got rekt in a fight and cried. I'll type that kind of thing out here, and only here, on Nostr, again and again.

If I post something intellectually polarizing I start to think, "what would my followers think?" But then I'm immediately like, "I don't know. Who cares. If they hate my truths here then were they even real my followers to begin with? Maybe they need to be challenged."

Meanwhile, I *do* care what you all think in aggregate, am willing to disagree with you individually on certain topics, but want to hear your thoughts. And I'm willing to change my views based on you. In fact, many of my Twitter/X posts are there over the past years because I want to see what people comment with before I write my full-on reports. The same is likely true for Nostr. This is raw ground. I want your thoughts. I won't bend my truths toward you, and I'll challenge you, as I expect you to challenge me.

So, if someone takes the effort to be on Nostr and some how reads this, I want them in my ecosystem. I want their criticisms as much as their praise. Criticize me here. I'll enjoy it. Let's go. You're awesome.

And then I'm like "What about my business contacts?" I have like these various billionaire institutional close contacts that are richer than me but have to wear ties to work. But I mean, if they are reading this right now, they are fucking awesome. I think, any of my serious existing business contacts who are cool enough to be here, are likely people I want to continue to work with. If they don't like what I say, they can bring it up with me. Otherwise they can appreciate my rawness here, and recognize that Nostr is where I post my random thoughts or my deep thoughts, and either of which are my raw thoughts.

My goal is to be real, and to advanced this protocol.

The day that far more people are on Nostr, is the day I will practice more public moderation. Until then, and that's probably far away, it's the medium where I will drop f-bombs and describe weird situations and thoughts. Let's go.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akPbu6TOx2E&ab_channel=JerisJohnson

“I think I’m quite ready for another adventure.”

Replying to Avatar Lyn Alden

It's actually kind of shocking how polarized my Twitter/X feed has become.

So many people who were technical developers, capital allocators, thoughtful geopolitical commentators, etc are now just outright tribalists.

-Some of them are direct anti-Palestinian. Not just anti-Hamas, but outright against Muslims existing in Israel.

-Some of them are direct anti-Jew. Not just anti-Zionist in the sense of being critical of the modern state of Israel and its border rights. But instead just like, actually anti-Jew.

I hate to see this. The truth is not necessarily in the middle (ie "moderation" may itself be wrong by assuming the middle is correct), but perhaps more concerningly, many people can't even steelman their opponent's view. In the best of worlds, you should be able to explain the most intelligent version of your opponent's view, and then deconstruct it by explaining how it's wrong.

I see little of that. Hardly anyone can do it. My feed is now mostly like 90 IQ tribalist stuff, even from 120 IQ people. It's sad to see. I rarely see anyone who can steelman the Palestinian case and then explain why Israel is right, or steelman the Israeli case and explain why the Palestinians are right.

I have my own personal views, first and foremost toward the civilian children, and secondarily toward land rights, but perhaps my biggest view thirdly is to criticize the sheer polarization that has occurred. Everyone is sure, but few can particularly explain the dilemma in detail in such way that acknowledges their smartest opponents views and then builds their own case against that. Almost everyone is instead polarized and tribal now.

I’m not intelligent enough to form a solid opinion/argument about this situation.

Nothing will last forever, so there’s a thing - you will (have to) make peace with your (worst) enemy.

While doing it with terrible terms if you are the weaker one. While knowing your stronger opponent will probably only use it like a ceasefire, to rest, to rearrange, to arm, to practice, to infiltrate.

Negotiating for the peace is the solution.

There’s a thing; we don’t have functioning court system in Finland. It’s expensive, and even a simple case can take 3 to 5 years to complete.

Replying to Avatar Lyn Alden

There have been a handful of times in my life, maybe four or five or so, where I was walking in a dark parking garage or similar venue alone in a city at night, and came across a sketchy-looking dude that was looking at me weird or otherwise triggered my confrontational intuition based on his vibe, clothing, and/or body language.

And each time I kept it cool on the surface, looked at him confidently, but kind of subtlety clenched my fists and was internally amping myself up with uncontrollable adrenaline like, “You want to fucking go dude?” and began running through mental routines of how to drop him based on certain approaches, or what if he has a knife and how to focus on that, etc.

To this day, I don’t know what percentage of them were intending to be a problem. Maybe none. Maybe one or two out of five. I think at least some of them probably triggered defensive instincts in me for a reason; those aren’t there for no reason. Some aspect of them seemed acutely out of place or overly intentional, etc. Studies generally suggest that attackers pick out less confident looking people. Easy targets. They use their instincts too. Part of me wonders if any of them might have tried something if I slumped my shoulders and tried to walk quicker to my car rather than look straight at them and and basically amp myself up while also acting like nothing was happening. Some vibe of me was present for their instincts too.

But perhaps more importantly, I wonder what it feels like to be totally afraid there. To have no defenses, no answer. It happens to people all the time. You’re in a parking lot or garage and there is a sketchy dude or a few drunk guys. You get on a small elevator with a guy and it is you and him and he’s 80 pounds heavier. My father put me in martial arts so that I wouldn’t face a scenario with no answers. While I might feel adrenaline or concern, I never feel powerless. I immediately start running through options. I wonder what people feel like in these situations if they have literally never had a fight in their lives. Like, I might or might not win in this scenario, but either way it’ll be absolutely vicious if it gets down to it. I can’t imagine having no answer.

Or the doorbell rings at 9pm while my husband is on travel. 95% of me like “probably a neighbor” and the other 5% of me is looking out the window and clenching my fists slightly and running through those same routines and thinking about the closest knife location in case this gets weird.

I think that is an important aspect to teach people. Everyone should have basic defense training. Not everyone is going to have extensive combat training, but everyone can have some basics to boost their chances by either improving their vibes to avoid being targeted or having some basic starting points of what to do if attacked, since some actions like yelling and having a handful of moves to get away from a grab or hit someone back or otherwise make someone realize that it’s not worth it. It’s the same as having basic cooking skills, basic repair skills, how to change a tire, etc. you just have to know a few things.

And you can smile, too. It’ll kind of slows the time and gives you wider view around.

Replying to Avatar Lyn Alden

Have you ever won a fight that you should have lost? Here’s a funny story.

I grew up in a trailer park from age 6-18 with my single father, who was elderly. But my father had been a police officer for decades, and was an orderly kind of guy. He kept a tight household, and he would work each day and I basically had to be an adult from a young age to take care of myself, and he also put me in martial arts classes starting just before or around age 7 which I then did like clockwork multiple times per week for years straight. Many other kids in the neighborhood were less lucky by not having such attentive-but-hard parents, and went astray.

My neighbor Jordan lived with his single mother, who was kind of crazy and usually not home. Nobody really cleaned their trailer; it was gross. Jordan and his little sister grew up largely alone and in squalor, and were given no direction. But Jordan was a character, and he built his own direction as an agent of chaos. We became friends, and I would hang out with Jordan and his little sister there in the evenings after I came back from school and martial arts practice. Jordan’s best friends aside from me, were marijuana dealers and so forth, and I got to know them. Jordan was a couple years older than me and taught me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, Magic the Gathering, and a bunch of video games, and he was a big cultural influence on me. Most of my hobbies ended up being tomboyish probably because of him; he was the only kid on my street that was in my age range, and just slightly older to be a significant big brother type of influence on me, rather than me being the one to influence him. He and his friends joked that I was the “innocent” one among them; the nerdy girl across the street who was kind of part of them but also kind of different. Jordan usually didn’t call people by their name, but rather had a nickname for everyone. He always called me “Squeaks”.

A lot of people grow up in certain social bubbles, but my social groups at the time couldn’t be more different. My friends at school were like, fellow nerdy mathlete team members. Then I had friends at my highly disciplined martial arts school that felt almost like a military academy, with push-ups and rank hierarchies and “Osu Sensei!” type of shit. And then I’d come home and hang out with Jordan and his chill pot-dealing friends who did whatever the hell they felt like. I feel lucky that I had all these totally different vibes going on.

Jordan would host fights in his backyard with his friends. They were all bigger than me and kind of tough, but had zero martial arts training, and after some prodding I agreed to spar in it once when I was 15. My first opponent was a far larger guy who was obsessed with Pokemon and dealt pot, and he jumped toward me and literally picked me up and was about to body slam me. But he didn’t know what he was doing, and made the common takedown mistake of putting his head on my side under my arm, so I guillotine-choked him as he picked me up, and he immediately crumpled to the ground and submitted to me before he could complete the slam. Jordan was like, “Well, Squeaks wins.”

In my martial arts school, we fought full contact, like I had been punched and slammed and dropped and tapped out for years, but always with headgear on and mouthpieces in. It was always a safe, controlled environment. Julian’s fighting pit was acutely *unsafe*; just with some gloves on and nothing else. I always felt more afraid of a real fight than a controlled fight, and this moment and the subsequent adventures in it helped me build more confidence that even my fellow martial arts students rarely had.

From then on, Jordan held various fights in his yard and loved to put me in there from time to time because it was so unexpected to people. I wasn’t innately talented, and compared to every fighter being a boy I wasn’t strong, but nobody else had the 8 years of training that I had, or any training at all really, so I won every single time, usually through unexpected chokes after initially looking like I was losing, and Jordan was highly amused by this fact. It was comical to him when someone who didn’t know me was there, and he’d be like, “hey, you should spar with Squeaks here, she’s nice.”

The more that I would fight the same person over time, however, the closer the fight would be, because they were way stronger and would learn to avoid the easy traps. Anyone who knows the game of chess probably knows “Fool’s Mate”, which is the quickest way to checkmate someone in a few moves by immediately getting the queen into position near the opponent's king through their front line, backed up by a bishop. It’s one of those techniques that works once or twice against a newbie, and then they know how to avoid it. My initial chokes were kind of like that; I had a few tricks up my sleeve to win the first few times on easy mode against boys who didn’t know what they were doing. If they tried to take me down wrongly, they got insta-choked. Or, for example usually in my second fight against them, I would do the opposite and be super aggressive and go in and push them back, and then after a few seconds they would overpower me and push me back way harder, which I had anticipated and planned for from the start, and so as soon as their momentum shifted hard toward me I would instead immediately grab them and pull them *toward* me and to the ground with their own momentum, and then jump on their back and choke them out before they knew what the fuck just happened. But once they learned to avoid these certain common mistakes like “be careful about putting your neck under her arm if you try to take her down” or “don’t let her use your own momentum against yourself” or “just make sure to avoid her chokes at all cost because she’s not strong enough to submit you with an armbar or anything else”, then it would turn into a longer fight. And at that point they would be more cautious, and I would revert to kickboxing and relying on my speed and technique to just win with stamina and steadily out-hitting them, which was a longer grind. I would then try to avoid grappling them due to the strength difference.

After a couple years, the very last time I fought there before Jordan graduated from high school and we ended up going our separate ways, Jordan put a 200-pound black belt cousin of his in there and was like, “you should fight Squeaks, I think you’ll be the one to finally take her out but trust me it won’t be as easy as you think, and she’s also a black belt, and be careful of her chokes”. We were of similar age and training, but this guy was 75% heavier and a half a foot taller, so this was by all accounts an absolute non-starter of a match. Jordan asked me if I wanted to fight, and I was like, “Sure, why not. I’ll lose this time, but it’ll be fun. At least we have gloves on, lol.”

So, we get into the yard and this guy starts utterly beating the shit out of me every bit as thoroughly as one would expect. Jordan had told him that despite appearances to the contrary, not to hold back, that I had never once lost here before after several fights, and this guy indeed took Jordan’s advice seriously and didn’t play the over-confident routine. He had fought many opponents of many sizes in his training and knew not to underestimate people, and he just wanted to win from the start and treated me as though I was his equal. I got slammed all over the place. I was throwing punches back, but barely. Eventually I was dropped on my back, and before I could get up, he kept coming for me to punch me while I was down. But I rolled and flipped backward and got back to my feet, eyes wide in desperation. He came to me again and kept slamming me over and over. I blocked most of his hits, but the sheer power of his hits made my own elbows dig into my ribs and cause damage. He eventually got over me and started wailing on me over and over, and I couldn’t really go anywhere, like he was looming over me and had me trapped from multiple sides and I couldn’t even really back up. I was focused entirely on defense, because all of his hits had knockout potential against me and I couldn’t let any one hit my head clean, and I couldn’t last long like this. One false move and I’d be literally unconscious. My goal at this point was just like, don't lose teeth or get knocked out.

But after he failed to drop me with those initial barrages, he got more open, more aggressive, more comfortable. He punched me over and over on my forearms, harder and harder, letting his guard down to generate more power, trying to finally end the fight by just breaking through my defenses.

And then, amid my beatings, I saw a brief opening. In his comfort, he started focusing too much on damage and not enough on defense. Between his punches, I regained composure, and I did an all-out full-body hook punch right on the deep side of his jaw. I put every ounce of technique and twisting all my body weight I had into it, and it came out of nowhere from his perspective. He stumbled back from that one hit, dizzy, and sat down on the grass, unable to focus his eyesight. I stopped and looked at Jordan. Jordan asked if he could continue, and he shook his head no, unable to speak. Jordan and me looked at each other like “O_O” and Jordan was like, “holy shit, Squeaks wins.”

But it was a fragile victory in many aspects. I had way more bodily damage than my opponent did. In a half hour he was fine, whereas I was hurt for the next week. My ribs were utterly black and blue the next day; he had hit me so hard and so repeatedly before he got KO’d, that even when blocking his hits, my *own elbows* had repeatedly jammed into my ribs and caused bruises as he pounded my defensive forearms. And my forearms and shoulders were black and blue from taking so many direct hits. Both of us were chilling and playing Playstation 2 with Jordan the next day and I was the one that was injured, not him, even though I had technically won the fight. It became a funny joke among us. All I had done was avoid a knockout, gradually lose on all metrics throughout the course of the fight, but then win it all with one strategic haymaker hook punch after he let his guard down.

He asked, “Want to do a rematch?” I said, “Maybe give me a week to recover first, holy shit.” But by that time he wasn’t around anymore, and the rematch never happened. Likely he would have won, so that was for the best.

My experiences with Jordan and his friends in middle school and high school were some of the most defining for me in my malleable years. My mathletes team for example didn’t teach me shit in comparison to what Jordan did. Jordan was a significant influence on my hobbies and cultural influences for years to come, built my confidence in a real-world setting, and was a good friend.

Thanks for sharing. Life is for living.