On the first day of halving Vitalik gave to me: one unicorn/// in blockchain color/// and three dâi/// for spartans galore.
The bitcoin halvening is almost here after four years of boom and bust with just 12 days to go now until for the first time the mainstream sees a magical event that is as underwhelming as it can possibly be.
At block 630,000, the algorithmic code contained in just over 10,000 machines will at an instant order a coordinated change of the monetary supply of BTC.
All blocks before that order by la machine printed 12.5 bitcoin or more. This one will print 6.25 BTC and will continue to do so for about four years.
That’s all. 12 becomes 6 and that’s that. Nothing to see here. Or is it?
Well everyone expects it to be nada yankee, so, maybe this time it will be something pasta with green basil and mama mia?
That’s especially considering the current global mass devaluation of this nonsense they call money where everybody now puts numbers on some spreadsheet and instead of halvening does… quadripeling?
Usually however bitcoin has a somewhat slow gradual rise during and after the halvening in a somewhat objective illustration of the nature of inflation and monetary manipulation by that still unknown genius, Njakamoto.
And realistically it is probable it will again be slow by bitcoin standards with some gradual rise, hopefully to greet what may well be a very new moon in this sacred year of 2020.
A magical year that brings the realization we are free. Free to go to the moon, and Venus. Or Mars for Musky Musk with his ”essential’ rockets continuing to greet the beautiful skies of Florida lands.
Free to dream, that which is real, with any speculation on price fully pointless so, our own poem:
The mountains rise upon imagination,
the fields are bright, and the trees ripe,
the rivers feed the fields atlantis,
the sun so smiles upon all and one.
The mountains rise imagination,
What was not, is to become,
by the hand of man and god.
The rivers raise imagination,
their flowing from the skies,
and onto sea, la blu lagee,
crossing wild fields around.
Upon those fields, we shall so build,
a Jerusalem of our time,
under the imagination,
of man and god.
And there we’ll raise,
the fruits of earth,
and will feed,
the birds of sky,
and will ride the dolphins wide,
to live the song of our time.
There we will o fly those cars,
and those rockets to the stars,
peeking deep into atoms,
and the civilization in us.
Ooo mountains stand as witness,
of the men that walk this earth,
and you birds give them song,
for it is the spring of hope.
Dreams are dreams and dreams are real,
optimism is hea,
all these gorgeous beauty lands,
opportunities for new man.
Eh thy chains, now meet your fates,
for thy bone beats iron,
gone today shall be the days,
when this earth is not ours.