Am I an imperialist whore for loving Bridgerton? I suppose I am.

Things I think are bitcoin Things that i think are bitcoin

Things I think are bitcoin “"You know what I hate, Father? Not lies. Not even injustice. I hate silence. I hate that the world is allowed to be silent when it should be screaming. I hate that people are told what to think, and what to believe — and that they believe it." "You built your life on secrets and lies. You made your wealth on silence. And now I’m going to break it. I’m going to make the whole world see it. And I don’t care if you hate me for it." "I’m not doing this to hurt you. I’m doing this because it’s right. Because people deserve to know the truth — even if it hurts. Even if it destroys you." "You wanted me to be like you — a man who keeps the world quiet. But I can’t. I can’t be quiet. I’ll shout until my voice is gone." - Terry Pratchett, the Truth

Is bitcoin about embracing our divinity or killing our gods? Not clear yet.

Things which I think are bitcoin “And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children. And he said: Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.” - the Prophet, Khalil Ghibran

Things which I think are bitcoin

“He will rage, as he leaves, against so many things: stupidity, injustice, human foolishness and shortsightedness, not just the dying of the light. And, hand in hand with the anger, like an angel and a demon walking into the sunset, there is love: for human beings, in all our fallibility; for treasured objects; for stories; and ultimately and in all things, love for human dignity.”

“There is a fury to Terry Pratchett’s writing: it’s the fury that was the engine that powered Discworld. It’s also the anger at the headmaster who would decide that six-year-old Terry Pratchett would never be smart enough for the 11-plus; anger at pompous critics, and at those who think serious is the opposite of funny; anger at his early American publishers who could not bring his books out successfully. The anger is always there, an engine that drives. By the time Terry learned he had a rare, early onset form of Alzheimer’s, the targets of his fury changed: he was angry with his brain and his genetics and, more than these, furious at a country that would not permit him (or others in a similarly intolerable situation) to choose the manner and the time of their passing.”

Things which I think are bitcoin 3. Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. - William Blake

Things which I think are bitcoin 2 Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat. What dread hand? & what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp. Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears And water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? - William Blake

Things which I think are bitcoin, Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots, But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of gas-shells dropping softly behind. Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time, But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.— Dim through the misty panes and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,— My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori. - Wilfred Owen

Ok. This is going to be an unpopular opinion but the last series of bridgerton is pretty bitcoin.

I’m kind of embarrassed to admit I’m really enjoying the new season of Bridgerton. Sorry.

I sold my Ibit at $67900. Now I want to buy real bitcoin but I’m really not sure when to buy. If this is a real bear market I shouldn’t buy till December. This war has changed everything. I’ve already bought some but have around $200000 to buy. I’m asking for advise when to buy #bitcoin #asknostr

And so it begins…

Al Jazeera

US, Israel launch attack on Iran, explosions in Israel, Arab states

A US official tells Al Jazeera that attacks were carried out as a joint military operation between Israel and the US.

I know the world is full of amazing goodness. Beauty beyond human understanding. BUT with the evil I see in Palestine and the absolute evil coming out of the Epstein files, I’m plain depressed. Evil is a real thing. I thought evil was simply man’s weakness but now I’m thinking there is a genuine external force perverting humanity. And now I’m convinced the leaders of our society have already been perverted. I need some time to take this in.