It’s exciting to be part of something. Whether it’s Woodstock, the Cultural Revolution, or a really fun sex cult, feeling like you’re part of a vanguard ushering in a brave new world can be invigorating. Involvement in these movements can engender a sense of empowerment and purpose. Plus, in two of the three examples I just mentioned, you get to bone a lot.
Cryptocurrency has always had a new age-y aura attached. If you know a guy who micro-doses LSD and is in a polyamorous hepta-cule, it’s a good bet that he’s also into crypto. I don’t mean to paint with a broad brush or judge that guy — except for that guy’s man-bun, which, yes, I judge — but I do mean to argue that crypto’s techno-future patina inflated its value. To crypto-skeptics, the technology was speculative, and its real-world uses had not yet been demonstrated. But to many crypto-believers, the skeptics were skeptics because they just didn’t get it.
When it comes to crypto, I — as I so often am — was on Team Phooey And Humbug. “Balderdash!” I shouted in the early 2010s, shaking my fist at no-one in particular. “This crypto hokum ‘tis not but flummery!” This is not a cool posture for a guy in his early 30s (as I was back then) to hold. The cool thing to do is to get on board with the revolution, especially if you live in New York and the revolution eventually starts producing 26 year-olds with 4,000 square foot penthouses in Chelsea. But I could never get past the fact that so many of the arguments surrounding crypto struck me as utter fucking bullshit.