Tag: VCs

Web3: The New Freemasons

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The emergence of Web3 and crypto has led to the development of new forms of collective action and community-building that have yet to fully unfold. As these technologies continue to evolve, we may see the emergence of a new form of Masonic tropes, where the ideals of ‘civic nationalism’ and the practices of Freemasonry are translated into a collective mission of mindfulness and society-building. However, this revival may only be a half-arsed attempt, straddling between nationalist and globalist understandings over collective attachments.

Freemasonry is an organization that has been shrouded in mystery for centuries, with its members bound by secret oaths and symbols. Its practices and principles have often been associated with a sense of exclusivity and elitism, as well as with ideals of civility and morality. The emergence of Web3 and crypto has presented an opportunity to revive some of the ideals of Freemasonry in a new form, potentially combining the values of civic nationalism with a focus on mindfulness and social responsibility.

However, this new form of Masonic tropes may be a half-arsed attempt, as it attempts to straddle between nationalist and globalist understandings over collective attachments. Nationalism and globalism represent two competing perspectives on collective identity and attachment, with nationalism emphasizing a strong sense of attachment to one’s nation, while globalism emphasizes a sense of shared humanity and a rejection of borders.

The new Freemasons may attempt to incorporate both of these perspectives, creating a pragmatic approach that seeks to contain and incorporate both nationalist and globalist tendencies within an exclusivist bunch of new practices. This approach may be seen as a way to bridge the gap between these competing perspectives, but it may also risk alienating those who strongly identify with one or the other.

Furthermore, the attempt to incorporate both nationalist and globalist tendencies may lead to a watered-down version of the original Masonic tropes, lacking the depth and authenticity that characterized the original organization. This may be due to the fact that the new Freemasons are seeking to please everyone, rather than staying true to their core principles and values.

In conclusion, the emergence of Web3 and crypto presents an opportunity for a new form of Masonic tropes that combines the ideals of ‘civic nationalism’ and the practices of Freemasonry with a focus on mindfulness and society-building. However, this revival may only be a half-arsed attempt, straddling between nationalist and globalist understandings over collective attachments. This approach may risk alienating those who strongly identify with one or the other, while also leading to a watered-down version of the original Masonic tropes. Ultimately, it remains to be seen how this new form of Masonic tropes will unfold, and whether it will be successful in creating a meaningful and authentic community of like-minded individuals.

A Game of Boiling Frogs

We’re in a game of boiling frogs, but this isn’t your run-of-the-mill slow death in a pot—it’s an industrial-sized cauldron, big enough for the whole goddamned species. The wealthiest among us, the kings of silicon and shadow, are camped out by the dial, their sweaty hands on the thermostat, grinning like lunatics. They’ve mastered the con: keep the cooker on, rake in the profits, and sell the rest of us tickets to the circus while the water starts to bubble.

But they’ve got no intention of sticking around for the boil. No, these grinning devils have a plan. When the steam starts to rise, they’ll leap out, not to dry land but into orbit—vaulting into space like cosmic cowboys, champagne in one hand and a middle finger to gravity in the other. Mars, they say. Or maybe some floating utopia made of reinforced arrogance and platinum-plated dreams. The rest of us? We’re cooked.

We’ll stew in the broth of their excess, basted in the juices of runaway capitalism and climate rot, while they toast their escape at zero gravity. It’s the oldest trick in the book, but now the stakes are interplanetary. The frogs are boiling, the clock is ticking, and the only question left is: How much longer before someone flips the damn pot?

May they Boil in Space Radiation

Ah, yes, radiation—the great cosmic equalizer. They’ve got their gilded rockets and billion-dollar survival pods, but space doesn’t give a damn about wealth or ambition. While we stew in the ruins they left behind, their grand escape might land them in a slow-roasting nuclear hell of their own, cooked not by the pot but by the relentless kiss of gamma rays and solar winds.

The irony is almost poetic. They claw their way out of Earth’s gravity well, desperate to dodge the mess they made, only to find themselves in a tin can surrounded by an unforgiving void. No ozone, no magnetic field, just an endless bath of cosmic death rays cooking their precious DNA strand by strand. Sure, they’ll have shielding—maybe even some cutting-edge tech—but entropy doesn’t negotiate, and space doesn’t do refunds.

So maybe that’s the punchline in this farce: while we boil down here, they’ll fry up there. Different pots, same flame.

Escape Plan

Their so-called “escape plan” isn’t salvation—it’s just a different recipe in the cosmic cookbook. They’re swapping one stew for another, so high on their own supply of ambition and self-importance that they can’t even taste the irony. All that cocaine-dusted bravado, and they’ve convinced themselves that space is some kind of billionaire’s Eden—a clean slate where they can play god without the mess of history or consequence dragging them down.

But the truth? They’re just trading one pressure cooker for another. Down here, it’s rising seas and raging mobs. Up there, it’s radiation, cabin fever, and the crushing loneliness of a vacuum that doesn’t care how many Teslas you sold. It’s the same endgame, just with a shinier brochure.

And maybe that’s the real tragedy—they’ve snorted so much powdered delusion that they can’t recognize the truth anymore. They don’t see a planet worth saving, just a launchpad for their next big grift. They’ll smile for the cameras, talk about “humanity’s future,” and then blast off into the great unknown, leaving the rest of us to simmer in the ruins they left behind.

But they’re cooked, too. They just don’t know it yet. Their stew’s flavored with hubris, spiced with desperation, and served with a side of cosmic karma. Bon appétit.