If you spent a few hours reading about the history of money and civilizations, you’d walk away an Austrian. And if you’re an Austrian, your two choices are gold (if you’re a pessimist), and bitcoin (if you’re an optimist). Every other ideology is ignorant, misinformed or malfeasant.

“I quit when medicine was placed under State control, some years ago,” said Dr. Hendricks. "Do you know what it takes to perform a brain operation? Do you know the kind of skill it demands, and the years of passionate, merciless, excruciating devotion that go to acquire that skill? *That* was what I would not place at the disposal of men whose sole qualification to rule me was their capacity to spout the fraudulent generalities that got them elected to the privilege of enforcing their wishes at the point of a gun. I would not let them dictate the purpose for which my years of study had been spent, or the conditions of my work, or my choice of patients, or the amount of my reward. I observed that in all the discussions that preceded the enslavement of medicine, men discussed everything except the desires of the doctors. Men considered only the 'welfare of the patients,’ with no thought for those who were to provide it. That a doctor should have any right, desire or choice in the matter, was regarded as irrelevant selfishness; his is not to choose, they said, only 'to serve.’ That a man who's willing to work under compulsion is too dangerous a brute to entrust with a job in the stockyards- never occurred to those who proposed to help the sick by making life impossible for the healthy. I have often wondered at the smugness with which people assert their right to enslave me, to control my work, to force my will, to violate my con-science, to stifle my mind--yet what is it that they expect to depend on, when they lie on an operating table under my hands? Their moral code has taught them to believe that it is safe to rely on the virtue of their victims. Well, that is the virtue I have withdrawn. Let them discover the kind of doctors that their system will now produce. Let them dis-cover, in their operating rooms and hospital wards, that it is not safe to place their lives in the hands of a man whose life they have throttled. It is not safe, if he is the sort of man who resents it—and still less safe, if he is the sort who doesn't." Atlas Shrugged @Bryan

I’ve put together a #bitcoin  educational website: bitcoinknows.com Please RT and share with anyone you’re trying to orange pill. It’s a curated library of some of the best articles, videos and podcasts I’ve come across. TY all 🫂

They’ll do 1/9 life sentences for the cause #catsr #[2]​ #[3]

This is what I would tell Tim Cook: When we broke up, I remember my ex-girlfriend told me she’d get plowed by a guy with a 12-inch member. And you know what I said?! I’M NOT TAKING AN INCH OFF FOR NO ONE, BITCH! #[0]

Remind me next time #[1]​ #[2]

F*ck that

#bitcoin #plebchain

#bitcoin #[2]

#[1]​ ❤️🙏🏼

My pronouns are: bit/coins

Now he saw that in postponing this moment for hours, he had not been guilty of evasion: had not thought of it, because there was nothing to think. Thought--he told himself quietly is a weapon one uses in order to act. No action was possible. Thought is the tool by which one makes a choice. No choice was left to him. Thought sets one's purpose and the way to reach it. In the matter of his life being torn piece by piece out of him, he was to have no voice, no purpose, no way, no defense. He thought of this in astonishment. He saw for the first time that he had never known fear because, against any disaster, he had held the omnipotent cure of being able to act. No, he thought, not an assurance of victory who can ever have that? only the chance to act, which is all one needs. Now he was contemplating, impersonally and for the first time, the real heart of terror: being delivered to destruction with one's hands tied behind one's back. Well, then, go on with your hands tied, he thought. Go on in chains. Go on. It must not stop you. . . But another voice was telling him things he did not want to hear, while he fought back, crying through and against it: There's no point in thinking of that . . . there's no use . . . what for? . . . leave it alone! He could not choke it off. He sat still, over the drawings of the bridge for the John Galt Line, and heard the things released by a voice that was part-sound, part-sight: They decided it without him. They did not call for him, they did not ask, they did not let him speak. . . They were not bound even by the duty to let him know-to let him know that they had slashed part of his life away and that he had to be ready to walk on as a cripple. . . Of all those concerned, whoever they were, for whichever reason, for whatever need, he was the one they had not had to consider. —Atlas Shrugged

Now he saw that in postponing this moment for hours, he had not been guilty of evasion: had not thought of it, because there was nothing to think. Thought--he told himself quietly is a weapon one uses in order to act. No action was possible. Thought is the tool by which one makes a choice. No choice was left to him. Thought sets one's purpose and the way to reach it. In the matter of his life being torn piece by piece out of him, he was to have no voice, no purpose, no way, no defense. He thought of this in astonishment. He saw for the first time that he had never known fear because, against any disaster, he had held the omnipotent cure of being able to act. No, he thought, not an assurance of victory who can ever have that? only the chance to act, which is all one needs. Now he was contemplating, impersonally and for the first time, the real heart of terror: being delivered to destruction with one's hands tied behind one's back. Well, then, go on with your hands tied, he thought. Go on in chains. Go on. It must not stop you. . . But another voice was telling him things he did not want to hear, while he fought back, crying through and against it: There's no point in thinking of that . . . there's no use . . . what for? . . . leave it alone! He could not choke it off. He sat still, over the drawings of the bridge for the John Galt Line, and heard the things released by a voice that was part-sound, part-sight: They decided it without him. They did not call for him, they did not ask, they did not let him speak. . . They were not bound even by the duty to let him know-to let him know that they had slashed part of his life away and that he had to be ready to walk on as a cripple. . . Of all those concerned, whoever they were, for whichever reason, for whatever need, he was the one they had not had to consider. —Atlas Shrugged

Now he saw that in postponing this moment for hours, he had not been guilty of evasion: had not thought of it, because there was nothing to think. Thought--he told himself quietly is a weapon one uses in order to act. No action was possible. Thought is the tool by which one makes a choice. No choice was left to him. Thought sets one's purpose and the way to reach it. In the matter of his life being torn piece by piece out of him, he was to have no voice, no purpose, no way, no defense. He thought of this in astonishment. He saw for the first time that he had never known fear because, against any disaster, he had held the omnipotent cure of being able to act. No, he thought, not an assurance of victory who can ever have that? only the chance to act, which is all one needs. Now he was contemplating, impersonally and for the first time, the real heart of terror: being delivered to destruction with one's hands tied behind one's back. Well, then, go on with your hands tied, he thought. Go on in chains. Go on. It must not stop you. . . But another voice was telling him things he did not want to hear, while he fought back, crying through and against it: There's no point in thinking of that . . . there's no use . . . what for? . . . leave it alone! He could not choke it off. He sat still, over the drawings of the bridge for the John Galt Line, and heard the things released by a voice that was part-sound, part-sight: They decided it without him. They did not call for him, they did not ask, they did not let him speak. . . They were not bound even by the duty to let him know-to let him know that they had slashed part of his life away and that he had to be ready to walk on as a cripple. . . Of all those concerned, whoever they were, for whichever reason, for whatever need, he was the one they had not had to consider. —Atlas Shrugged

Now he saw that in postponing this moment for hours, he had not been guilty of evasion: had not thought of it, because there was nothing to think. Thought--he told himself quietly is a weapon one uses in order to act. No action was possible. Thought is the tool by which one makes a choice. No choice was left to him. Thought sets one's purpose and the way to reach it. In the matter of his life being torn piece by piece out of him, he was to have no voice, no purpose, no way, no defense. He thought of this in astonishment. He saw for the first time that he had never known fear because, against any disaster, he had held the omnipotent cure of being able to act. No, he thought, not an assurance of victory who can ever have that? only the chance to act, which is all one needs. Now he was contemplating, impersonally and for the first time, the real heart of terror: being delivered to destruction with one's hands tied behind one's back. Well, then, go on with your hands tied, he thought. Go on in chains. Go on. It must not stop you. . . But another voice was telling him things he did not want to hear, while he fought back, crying through and against it: There's no point in thinking of that . . . there's no use . . . what for? . . . leave it alone! He could not choke it off. He sat still, over the drawings of the bridge for the John Galt Line, and heard the things released by a voice that was part-sound, part-sight: They decided it without him. They did not call for him, they did not ask, they did not let him speak. . . They were not bound even by the duty to let him know-to let him know that they had slashed part of his life away and that he had to be ready to walk on as a cripple. . . Of all those concerned, whoever they were, for whichever reason, for whatever need, he was the one they had not had to consider. —Atlas Shrugged

After reading Mandibles #bitcoin #plebchain

Extremist 🙋🏻‍♂️ #zapathon #plebchain #bitcoin

#zapathon #plebchain

Ask for wider shoulders #bitcoin

Rules over rulers #bitcoin #fiat