G-Ma & I return to our Metaverse sandbox, a rendering of the Amazon Rainforest. We call it ‘The Jungle’. Prized virtual birds fly overhead and my pet elephant, Falcor roams nearby. The sun is at its highest point but we’re safely guarded from the heat in the comfort of our home.
“Squadding up with the lone wolf was a smart move. That won us the battle.” G-Ma says with encouragement. “You’re just like your father in that way. Always finding ways to bring people together.”
“Ha, thanks G-Ma but you doubled my kills.” The comparison makes me blush.
A news alert appears:
“So much for the Amur Leopard,” I lament.
“Superior currency my ass! Fucking politicians and corporate con artists. They’re lower than whale shit!” G-Ma exclaims.
The Money Wars have turned into outright memetic warfare. Bitcoin has always been full of drama and wild price swings but the recent fight against it has been especially intense. It’s impossible to ignore since it’s part of everything I do in the Metaverse.
The Metaverse is a VR world that no one really controls so it’s able to get around ‘The Great Bitcoin Firewall’. People are always creating new experiences and ways to earn bitcoin, like Samurai Squad.
There’s also Faceworld. It’s the corporate version of the Metaverse. Instead of Bitcoin, they have their own coin that’s backed by the Dollar. It’s called Liberty.
“Damn Liberty is worth the same bucket of worm spit as the Dollar. No wonder people go on buying a bunch of shit they don’t need.” G-Ma grumbles. “Those assholes already gave us shit money. Then they go and put it into Faceworld to get people addicted to making their shit money!?”
This is her favourite rant.
“I’m old enough to remember when people thought Liberty had a wax cat’s chance in hell,” she continues. “Sure it did, until the ‘free world’ political bouge-jobs realized they were losing the Crypto Race and that Faceworld was the ticket to tracking and manipulating everything people in the West do…”
“National defence imperative they called it. More like digital imperialism if you ask me!”
“Nothin’ wrong with earning from games, Otto. Just make sure you ain’t the one being played and that the money is good. There’s a lot I don’t pretend to know but Bitcoin is damn near the only thing those bouge-jobs can’t control or take from you. That’s all I need to know.”
Nodding and smiling is my usual response. It’s just money to me.
I dabbled in Faceworld when I was younger, playing branded games and consuming branded experiences. That’s the easiest way to earn Liberty.
G-Ma wouldn’t step foot in Faceworld. “Rather nail my nuts to my knee!” she’d say.
I think that’s why she gifted me my first satoshis and introduced me to the Metaverse. Even in the current bear market, those sats have gone up a ton compared to Liberty. That’s all the convincing I really needed.
I had friends in Faceworld but it’s gotten harder to relate to them. Most became obsessed with influencers and buying useless things. Hearing what it did to Mom made it especially easy to say ✌️and join G-Ma in the Metaverse.
People get my philosophy and alien jokes here. Plus, I can do and say whatever I want without worrying about getting shadowbanned.
“Things are only going to get uglier as these desperate bouge-jobs cling to their power,” G-Ma continues. “It’s time for people to wake up, realize they can be free from this bullshit and fight back. That’s our only hope.”
She meets me with serious eyes. “I mean what I say about your talent, Otto. It’s about more than these games. This world needs people like you to bring them together.”
I nod sheepishly but deep down I hope she’s right. Lately, my typical day consists of playing Samurai Squad, chilling with G-Ma in The Jungle, watching anime and scrolling through philosophy quotes.
I shouldn’t complain. Earning and owning bitcoin gives me a lot of free time. But none of it feels…important.
“Your time is coming, Otto,” she says, finally taking her gaze off me.
“Ok G-Ma, time for bed.” I take off my glasses and step to her bed. She has plenty of Soulent to get her through the night. I know it’s not possible but when I kiss her forehead her cheeks seem to wrinkle in a subtle smile.
My dad’s old wall clock catches my eye as I stand back up. It usually does when I say goodnight to G-Ma. She kept it in perfect condition before she became bed-ridden. The clock hands haven’t moved since. I tried to wind it once but the key wouldn’t budge.
On my way back to bed, my fingers run across the leather spines of dad’s bookshelf. At some point his fingers did the same. The Nietzsche volume feels right for winding down from my virtual excitement. My tired eyes mostly wander across the page but a quote grabs my attention long enough for retention:
To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.