The real untold story of the last two years in Bitcoin is that a whole class of opportunists who had attached themselves to Craig Wright got politically orphaned once his fraud was exposed too broadly for the useful idiots and hangers-on in that orbit to keep pretending. And so, almost in unison, they pivoted 180 degrees and sank their teeth into Bitcoin proper. There is probably no clean way to prove lineage or pedigree here, but I suspect that if someone mapped the network closely, they would find all kinds of incestuous relationships between the wreckage of nChain and a lot of what is now presenting itself as legitimate Bitcoin discourse.

You spend your whole adult life in crypto-anarchist circles, actually shipping real work, even getting your name in the white paper, and then for ten years you're compromised not by broken crypto but by the state doing what it does: leverage, intel-grade sextortion, strings, control, kept secret the whole time. So the irony is brutal: publicly you're "trust nobody, assume compromise, OPSEC is religion" while privately you're living inside someone else's threat model. And the ending is perfect: you do not get exposed by cryptanalysis or a confession, but by a third party's bad digital hygiene, sloppy passwords, leaky inbox, tragedy with clown makeup.

Ladies, imagine being married to this guy...

I wrote a song about sailing out to Cape Lookout. It is starting to receive some local attention here in NC. Any sailors on this thing?

#sailor #sailing #tunestr #music #obx

https://youtu.be/V45zSBug3Qs?si=c05a1gDoH1QkIidw