On the illustrious day of May 6th—write it down, lest you forget it!—the crypto-baron Coinbase announced x402, by which one can fling coins across the vast lands of HTTP with the speed of a scandal and the elegance of a powdered wig.
Hougan, with a gambler’s optimism (and perhaps a creditor’s desperation), insists that Bitcoin is destined for Olympus—beyond $200,000, that number so round it circles back on itself—unless, of course, our honorable statesmen behave as honorably as a cat chasing a laser pointer. “The greatest risk,” he moans, “is Congress…”—as if anyone ever doubted it. 🤷
Ethereum, like an old fighter haunted by the bell, staggered from $1,880—fell below $1,850, then $1,800. At $1,750, it found itself lying in the gutter, pondering life.
On the fifth of May, in an address to the financial world that can only be described as a warning bell, Nigel Green, the CEO of the financial advisory firm Devere Group, made a rather unsettling statement. It was as though the bells of doom were tolling in the background as he cautioned investors. He suggested that the dollar’s steady decline is not just a mere hiccup but the early stirrings of a much larger structural shift—a shift that we cannot afford to ignore. According to him, the dollar had its weakest start to a year since the troubled times of 2008, its value plummeting by more than 4% on the Dollar Index (DXY). This, he claimed, is no temporary stumble. It is a deeper, more significant trend.
Alas, Worldcoin, like a child caught with a forbidden toy, wasn’t merely told to delete its stash. No more new faces, no more bright eyeballs, no further biometric noodling for you! The absence of a Data Protection Impact Assessment—oh, that famous DPIA—rendered their entire operation about as lawful as a midnight onion theft in a kolkhoz.
Some scribes down in showbiz alleys are babbling that Evan Peters, whose most famous turn was as an emotionally unavailable serial killer—well, that’s a résumé if you ask me—could become Sam Bankman-Fried. Nothing is set. Like a bag of crypto on a rollercoaster, the possibility could vanish in an instant. Meanwhile, Graham Moore—who once pocketed an Oscar and probably a few fancy pens—is negotiating to write the whole thing. With so much talent, someone might even tell the truth.
Ah, but how ephemeral is market hope! Like a magician’s rabbit retreating behind a silk kerchief, the surge fizzled. Before the moon knew it, Bitcoin nestled back in equities’ embrace; the 30-day correlation with that grand old S&P 500 pranced up to 0.55, a number that winks: “Yes, dear investor, I’m still watching Wall Street’s moves like an over-caffeinated hawk.”
With no more ceremony than the arrival of spring mud in St. Petersburg, Antalpha Platform (the highly esteemed lending hand to Bitmain, who wouldn’t lend to a distant cousin without collateral) trumpeted the start of its IPO roadshow. The prospect: 3,850,000 shares—each as ordinary as a magistrate’s luncheon, yet expected to fetch between $11.00 and $13.00 apiece.
“You shouldn’t have to sell the best-performing asset in human history to access cash,” Mallers proclaimed on X, recognizing, perhaps, the cruel irony of modern existence. Why trade tomorrow for today? Why part with your digital treasure, your asset of feverish hopes and crushed late-night FOMO, just for a few grubby dollars? Now, thanks to the miracle of lending, you can have your hodl and eat it too. 🍰
The Justice Department, ever the harbinger of theatrical flourishes, rolled out a proclamation on May 5—nay, not with trumpets, but with tragic tidings! The KNA, it seems, has taken to “pig butchering,” a most unseemly dating ritual wherein every courtship ends not in marriage but in maxed-out credit cards. For months, these digital Don Juans whisper sweet nothings to their victims, only to steer them into crypto-investment abattoirs. Pity the Americans—$5.5 billion lighter in the purse, and even lighter in love!
