To Bit, or not to Bit: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fiat distortions,
Or to take arms against a sea of endless bubbles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sweep;
No more; and by a sweep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand Wall Street schtupps
That insolvent flesh is heir to, ’tis a conflagration
Devoutly to be dish’d. To die, to sweep;
To sweep: perchance to scream: ay, there’s the hubub;
For aft that sweep of bankster dregs what new reams may come?
When we have shuffled off the immoral coinage,
Must give us pause: there’s the hazard of moral neglect
That makes insanity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of fiat debasement ,
The oppressor’s wrong, the borrowing idtot’s contumely,
The pangs of despised austerity, the law of gravity’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That impatient murmur of money changing snakes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a Benjamin Bernankin? who would QE fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life of indebtured servitude,
But that the dread of something after redemption prior to maturity,
The undiscovered monetary wasteland from whose bourn
No asset returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those monetary ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not much of?
Thus risk avoidance does make cowards of us all;
And thus the creative hue of fiscal revolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of doubt,
And genius enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard alternative currencies turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!
And now the Bit Coin hysteria!…
While Banksta pimps ‘r in thy orfices
Be all our financial sins remember’d.