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@ 0fa80bd3:ea7325de
2025-02-14 23:24:37
#intro
The Russian state made me a Bitcoiner. In 1991, it devalued my grandmother's hard-earned savings. She worked tirelessly in the kitchen of a dining car on the Moscow–Warsaw route. Everything she had saved for my sister and me to attend university vanished overnight. This story is similar to what many experienced, including Wences Casares. The pain and injustice of that time became my first lessons about the fragility of systems and the value of genuine, incorruptible assets, forever changing my perception of money and my trust in government promises.
In 2014, I was living in Moscow, running a trading business, and frequently traveling to China. One day, I learned about the Cypriot banking crisis and the possibility of moving money through some strange thing called Bitcoin. At the time, I didn’t give it much thought. Returning to the idea six months later, as a business-oriented geek, I eagerly began studying the topic and soon dove into it seriously.
I spent half a year reading articles on a local online journal, BitNovosti, actively participating in discussions, and eventually joined the editorial team as a translator. That’s how I learned about whitepapers, decentralization, mining, cryptographic keys, and colored coins. About Satoshi Nakamoto, Silk Road, Mt. Gox, and BitcoinTalk. Over time, I befriended the journal’s owner and, leveraging my management experience, later became an editor. I was drawn to the crypto-anarchist stance and commitment to decentralization principles. We wrote about the economic, historical, and social preconditions for Bitcoin’s emergence, and it was during this time that I fully embraced the idea.
It got to the point where I sold my apartment and, during the market's downturn, bought 50 bitcoins, just after the peak price of $1,200 per coin. That marked the beginning of my first crypto winter. As an editor, I organized workflows, managed translators, developed a YouTube channel, and attended conferences in Russia and Ukraine. That’s how I learned about Wences Casares and even wrote a piece about him. I also met Mikhail Chobanyan (Ukrainian exchange Kuna), Alexander Ivanov (Waves project), Konstantin Lomashuk (Lido project), and, of course, Vitalik Buterin. It was a time of complete immersion, 24/7, and boundless hope.
After moving to the United States, I expected the industry to grow rapidly, attended events, but the introduction of BitLicense froze the industry for eight years. By 2017, it became clear that the industry was shifting toward gambling and creating tokens for the sake of tokens. I dismissed this idea as unsustainable. Then came a new crypto spring with the hype around beautiful NFTs – CryptoPunks and apes.
I made another attempt – we worked on a series called Digital Nomad Country Club, aimed at creating a global project. The proceeds from selling images were intended to fund the development of business tools for people worldwide. However, internal disagreements within the team prevented us from completing the project.
With Trump’s arrival in 2025, hope was reignited. I decided that it was time to create a project that society desperately needed. As someone passionate about history, I understood that destroying what exists was not the solution, but leaving everything as it was also felt unacceptable. You can’t destroy the system, as the fiery crypto-anarchist voices claimed.
With an analytical mindset (IQ 130) and a deep understanding of the freest societies, I realized what was missing—not only in Russia or the United States but globally—a Bitcoin-native system for tracking debts and financial interactions. This could return control of money to ordinary people and create horizontal connections parallel to state systems. My goal was to create, if not a Bitcoin killer app, then at least to lay its foundation.
At the inauguration event in New York, I rediscovered the Nostr project. I realized it was not only technologically simple and already quite popular but also perfectly aligned with my vision. For the past month and a half, using insights and experience gained since 2014, I’ve been working full-time on this project.
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@ e3ba5e1a:5e433365
2025-02-13 06:16:49
My favorite line in any Marvel movie ever is in “Captain America.” After Captain America launches seemingly a hopeless assault on Red Skull’s base and is captured, we get [this line](https://www.youtube.com/shorts/kqsomjpz7ok):
“Arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say, you do it better than anyone.”
Yesterday, I came across a comment on the song [Devil Went Down to Georgia](https://youtu.be/ut8UqFlWdDc) that had a very similar feel to it:
America has seemingly always been arrogant, in a uniquely American way. Manifest Destiny, for instance. The rest of the world is aware of this arrogance, and mocks Americans for it. A central point in modern US politics is the deriding of racist, nationalist, supremacist Americans.
That’s not what I see. I see American Arrogance as not only a beautiful statement about what it means to be American. I see it as an ode to the greatness of humanity in its purest form.
For most countries, saying “our nation is the greatest” *is*, in fact, twinged with some level of racism. I still don’t have a problem with it. Every group of people *should* be allowed to feel pride in their accomplishments. The destruction of the human spirit since the end of World War 2, where greatness has become a sin and weakness a virtue, has crushed the ability of people worldwide to strive for excellence.
But I digress. The fears of racism and nationalism at least have a grain of truth when applied to other nations on the planet. But not to America.
That’s because the definition of America, and the prototype of an American, has nothing to do with race. The definition of Americanism is *freedom*. The founding of America is based purely on liberty. On the God-given rights of every person to live life the way they see fit.
American Arrogance is not a statement of racial superiority. It’s barely a statement of national superiority (though it absolutely is). To me, when an American comments on the greatness of America, it’s a statement about freedom. Freedom will always unlock the greatness inherent in any group of people. Americans are *definitionally* better than everyone else, because Americans are freer than everyone else. (Or, at least, that’s how it should be.)
In *Devil Went Down to Georgia*, Johnny is approached by the devil himself. He is challenged to a ridiculously lopsided bet: a golden fiddle versus his immortal soul. He acknowledges the sin in accepting such a proposal. And yet he says, “God, I know you told me not to do this. But I can’t stand the affront to my honor. I am the greatest. The devil has nothing on me. So God, I’m gonna sin, but I’m also gonna win.”
*Libertas magnitudo est*