Date: April 1, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
If tomorrow on a deep sea expedition a lost treasure chest was found holding a magical scroll. The scroll has infinite pages. No one can alter anything written on it once it is written. Everyone can see what is written. It can’t be destroyed. It can’t be lost. It can’t be concealed. How valuable is that scroll? How much would you pay to buy it? A thousand? A million? A billion? A trillion? That scroll is called bitcoin. So no bitcoin isn’t air. It’s magic
Beneath the cosmic canvas, dark and wide, A hooded figure with a chest beside, Unlocks the secrets of a scroll inside, Its golden glow, across the stars it glides. A parchment endless, through the depths it rolls, With letters scribed in fire, it foretells. Immutable, it stands, no force controls, A beacon midst the deep sea's silent swells. Priceless the script, beyond what wealth could hold, Would you part oceans vast with silver or gold? Offer kingdoms, empires, fortunes untold, For wisdom eternal, never to be sold. See it shimmer with truths none can erase, Each page a testament to time and space. Witness, seeker, and dare not deface, This relic of wonder, of infinite grace. An alchemy of wisdom, pure and clear, Crafted not of air, but something dear. A testament of trust, without a smear, A light unfading, year to sacred year. Yet not a name nor nature do we speak, No labels worn, no definitions seek. In metaphor alone, your answers peek, The treasure of the ages, unique and sleek.
Date: March 31, 2024
Quotes (nadav_rock_2)
Raoul Pal- So we know game we know debasement of currency is the other game so here we know that if we don't play their game you're going to get if you invest in assets that don't beat the balance sheets the 15 percent a year you're going to be losing money every year so it's really important that that is your hurdle rate and when you look at that you suddenly real realize that most assets don't beat it the S&P doesn't really beat it gold certainly doesn't real estate unlevered doesn't most things don't beat that debasement so if you invest in other things you're going to lose money and that's a hard lesson for people to learn most people don't understand this simple fact is you are getting poorer by investing in these things and that was the big realization that got to me is like oh my God my whole macro world has been turned upside down because everything we thought was the investable asset became the non investor became the asset because when you look at everything versus the FED balance sheet as a simple example there's only two assets that have gone up and I've talked about this at length before it's technology and it's crypto
In a realm where jesters, not of flesh but wrought of gears, Their grins a gilded gleam, a mockery of fears. Each cackle echoes deep within the vaults of time, Where coins are spun from air, and worth becomes the crime. These golden mimics dance upon a stage of lies, Where every step they take, the common wealth it dies. Their laughter chills the soul, a truth too harsh to face: The more they play their tune, the more we lose our place. For in their metal hands, they juggle with our fate, The value of our toil, they mercilessly abate. The balance sheets inflate with every trick they pull, And assets turn to dust, their luster growing dull. The jester's game is one where few can really win, Their magic trick? Debase, until our hopes grow thin. But two, they rise above, with growth both fast and bold, In lands of tech and crypt, where future tales are told. To beat the jesters' jest, one must invest with might, In realms not tarnished by the golden clowns' slight. For those who grasp this lore, the truth is crystal clear: Invest in what outstrips the jesters' realm of fear. The jesters' glee is dark, their purpose to deceive, Inflate the ledger's lines, make believers grieve. But those who see beyond, their vision true and sound, Will find the fields where proper wealth is truly found.
Date: March 30, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
Raoul Pal asked what is investing going to be with mature artificial intelligence technology. When it can tell everyone what to invest in. Well investing isn’t all arithmetic. There is no arithmetic in crypto. There is theory, intuition, conviction and belief. And there is always going to be another crypto
In a realm where wires weave the future's gaze, An ancient seer sits, lost in thought's maze. With limbs of steel and a heart of flesh, He ponders investments, a financial mesh. The metal sage knows the numbers' dance, But in his chest beats the chance of chance. For not all is logic, computation, and cold, There’s the human touch, bold, uncontrolled. Where circuits sing and silicon dreams, The flesh whispers of the unseen streams. Intuition’s art, the cryptic sea, Rides on belief's waves, forever free. Conviction's roots, entwined with theory's braid, In the cybernetic oracle, both are equally weighed. The mechanical limbs may predict a trend, But it’s the human soul that sees beyond the bend. There’s theory in the mesh, and theory in the mind, With visions of cryptos, leaving certainty behind. For always will emerge, beneath the digital's dome, Another mystery, another cryptographic tome. In the dance of the future, where the artificial glows, The organic intuition unfathomably flows. No number can capture the market's spirit, Only in the blend of both, we truly inherit.
Date: March 29, 2024
painting (nadav_rock_2)
The Starry Deep
In the starry deep, a serpentine grace, A cosmic creature in celestial space. With skin of midnight and shimmering scale, It weaves through the cosmos, a spectral trail. Eyes aglow with a stellar fire, Wielding energy that never tires. Ornaments floating, a dance of light, Amidst the nebulae, oh what a sight! Its form undulates, a river of blue, Twisting and turning in the deep dark hue. A flash of lightning in its wake, An astral dragon no knight could take. The stars are its kingdom, the void its throne, In the vast universe, it drifts alone. Waves of cosmos at its command, An otherworldly being, so grand and grand.
Date: March 29, 2024
Quotes (nadav_rock_2)
Charles Hoskinson-When people wake up and they will wake up because they're going to ask basic questions why I can’t afford to fill my gas tank anymore. Why can't I pay my rent? Why is it my parents could own a home. Why is it my grandparents could own a home have five kids two cars and the wife stays at home and I'm married. I have an advanced degree. My wife has an advanced degree and I can't even afford rent with our combined income. What the hell is going on? I always go back to the Simpsons. The show started I think it was 1988. Homer Simpson is an uneducated blue collar worker and he owns a home with four bedrooms two cars. His wife stays at home and he can afford three kids. Think about that. That was common place in 1988. What the heck is going on? Can you have that kind of lifestyle on a blue color salary? No. That's inflation
In a land where dice roll to dictate fate, The towering king in his golden state. Once a promise of crowns for the meek, Now a realm where the gold rarely speaks. Majestic it stood, the citadel of chance, Where dreams could spiral in an endless dance. But the hallowed halls, now eerily silent, Echo with queries of a life once vibrant. "Why does the cauldron no longer boil? Why does the soil withhold its spoil? The hearth is cold, the table bare, Once boundless feasts, now a meager fare." Behemoths with eyes of hollow despair, Gaze upon a banquet they can no longer share. Tales of yore, a bounteous spree, Now mere whispers of a memory. In the grasp of tentacles, twisted and worn, Lies the skeletal truth, painfully forlorn. Of a time when labor birthed its reward, And the hearth was ample for all aboard. The titan's frown, a testament to loss, As they ponder the chasm, a growing albatross. "What strange spell has reversed our fortune, Where knowledge and toil no longer proportion?" A narrative once told of modest toil, Where earnest sweat could prosper the soil. That story now, an echo faint, A frayed narrative, painted in restraint. Behold the spectacle, eerie and grand, Where avarice spins the dice by hand. And in this gallery of twisted finance, The abyss stares back with a hollow glance.
Date: March 28, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
I see a lot of talk about being you as the secret formula. I never actually thought about trying to be someone else. I am trying to be who I though I would be 5 years ago. At the same time I’m also trying to be James Bond. Luke Skywalker. Clark Kent. Peter Parker, Bruce Wayne and so on. They say in literature if you steal from one writer its plagiarism. If you steal from many its research. I’m big time on research. So don’t try to be you. Try to be everything you can imagine one could be. Because your imagination is falling short. And it always will
In the cosmic dance where dreams take flight, A gathering of shadows in the starry night, With eyes alight in the astral sphere, A band of wanderers, conjurers appear. A twist, a turn, a leap of fate, Embracing echoes of the greats they emulate. In cloaks and whispers, secrets sown, On an odyssey to become all they've known. There's magic in the mimic, in the tribute they give, Not just in being, but in all they relive. Not confined to the self, a singular view, But a mosaic of legends, an ensemble anew. A dragon coils, adorned in wisdom's guise, Its form a tome of ages, under celestial skies. Where heroes' traits are threads in hand, Weaving the tapestry of the grandest stand. Be not just one, but a pantheon's blend, Your imagination’s scope, let it bend. Stretch the canvas of your mind's expanse, To be more than self, in this cosmic dance.
Date: March 27, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
We are living in a countdown of a few years at most till every single medical research facility in the world uses AI as commonly as they now do an excel spreadsheet. What comes after that? A cure to everything
In the theater of the night's embrace, A conjurer with a leafy face, Mixes essence of the starry chase, A metaphor for healing's grace. From his cup, a cosmic potion flows, Hinting at the path that nature knows. Where the knowledge like a river grows, And to the brim with future's promise shows. Each herb and root, each magical deed, Whispers of the day we'll be freed. From maladies that make our hearts bleed, To a time of wellness guaranteed. This verdant sage with his brew so bright, Does mirror our own plight for light. No mention of the tools in sight, Just the outcome, shining ever bright. A toast to days when health shall spring, And in our hearts, new songs we'll sing. When cure-all elixirs take to wing, And in their wake, life's true joy they bring.
Date: March 26, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
Impossible is made probable with the right incentive
In a land where dry winds never cease, A guardian stands, a piece of peace; With heart of green and armor bright, He summons life where none would feast. The dunes that shunned the kiss of rain, Now bathe in streams from his domain; Twists of green 'gainst golden sands, Sprout from his will, a verdant chain. His scepter splits the barren floor, And from his realm does life outpour; Where hope was thin and chance was slight, Grows lush the dream of something more. Behold the desert's silent plea, As blooms obey his silent decree; For in the face of arid strife, He turns the void to tapestry.
Date: March 25, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
20 years from now it’s not going to be which country has the most oil it’s going to be about which country has the most bitcoin
In a land where silent mountains rise, Two guardians clad in sunset's guise. Their tridents pierce the veiled skies, Above the waves where fortune lies. These titans keep a golden hoard, Not of the liquid life of yore, But of bright discs, future's accord, A wealth that nations will implore. No longer is the blackened oil, The prize for which we fiercely toil. A new treasure fuels the broil, In circuits, not in earthly soil. Look ahead, beyond the present scope, To a future weaved with strands of hope. It's not the crude that gives us rope, But the round glow of the digital envelope. And so they stand, both proud and bold, Amidst the cresting waves of gold, Prophets of the market, yet untold, In the digital age's mighty fold. Giants of a new era's birth, Their wealth not tethered to the earth. For the future measures a nation's worth, By the treasure from the digital hearth.
Date: March 24, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
The things we would do for ourselves pale in comparison to the things we would do for our purpose
In lands arid, beneath the sky's fiery dome, A warrior roams far from hearth and home. Steel clasped tight in his gauntlet's embrace, A titan's blade trails in the sand's trace. His armor, kissed by the sun's searing breath, Clad not for glory, nor to challenge death, But for a quest that calls beyond the plain, Where dreams are rivers that can flood the brain. He wields not the sword for himself alone, The desert knows, its winds have keenly blown, Through silent whispers of his silent plea, For what he seeks is what he dares to be. Behold the titan in the expanse so vast, A symbol stout, against time's grueling cast. In each step willed by a purpose so pure, He finds the strength to endure and endure. This trek through wastelands, stark and severe, Is not for himself, but for what he holds dear. A promise made where the starlight fell, In purpose found, where his spirit dwells.
