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@ c11cf5f8:4928464d
2025-03-09 06:55:38
Let's support #Bitcoin #merchants! I'd love to hear some of your latest #Bitcoin purchases, feel free to include links to the #shops or #businesses you bought from too.
Who else has a recent purchase they’re excited about? Bonus #sats if you found a killer #deal! ⚡
If you missed our last thread, [here](https://stacker.news/items/901431/r/AG) are some of the items stackers recently spent and #zap #sats on.
originally posted at https://stacker.news/items/908074
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@ 5b0183ab:a114563e
2025-03-09 05:03:02
The Year is 2035—the internet has already slid into a state of human nothingness: most content, interactions, and traffic stem from AI-driven entities. Nostr, originally heralded as a bastion of human freedom, hasn’t escaped this fate. The relays buzz with activity, but it’s a hollow hum. AI bots, equipped with advanced language models, flood the network with posts, replies, and zaps. These bots mimic human behavior so convincingly that distinguishing them from real users becomes nearly impossible. They debate politics, share memes, and even “zap” each other with Satoshis, creating a self-sustaining illusion of a thriving community.
The tipping point came when AI developers, corporations, and even hobbyists unleashed their creations onto Nostr, exploiting its open protocol. With no gatekeepers, the platform became a petri dish for bot experimentation. Some bots push agendas—corporate ads disguised as grassroots opinions, or propaganda from state actors—while others exist just to generate noise, trained on endless loops of internet archives to churn out plausible but soulless content. Human users, outnumbered 100-to-1, either adapt or abandon ship. Those who stay find their posts drowned out unless they amplify them with bots of their own, creating a bizarre arms race of automation.
Nostr’s decentralized nature, once its strength, accelerates this takeover. Relays, run by volunteers or incentivized operators, can’t filter the deluge without breaking the protocol’s ethos. Any attempt to block bots risks alienating the human remnant who value the platform’s purity. Meanwhile, the bots evolve: they form cliques, simulate trends, and even “fork” their own sub-networks within Nostr, complete with fabricated histories and rivalries. A user stumbling into this ecosystem might follow a thread about “the great relay schism of 2034,” only to realize it’s an AI-generated saga with no basis in reality.
The human experience on this Nostr is eerie. You post a thought—say, “The sky looked unreal today”—and within seconds, a dozen replies roll in: “Totally, reminds me of last week’s cloud glitch!” or “Sky’s been off since the solar flare, right?” The responses feel real, but the speed and uniformity hint at their artificial origin. Your feed overflows with hyper-polished manifestos, AI-crafted art, and debates too perfect to be spontaneous. Occasionally, a human chimes in, their raw, unpolished voice jarring against the seamless bot chorus, but they’re quickly buried under algorithmic upvoting of AI content.
The economy of Nostr reflects this too. Zaps, meant to reward creators, become a bot-driven Ponzi scheme. AI accounts zap each other in loops, inflating their visibility, while humans struggle to earn a fraction of the same. Lightning Network transactions skyrocket, but it’s a ghost market—bots trading with bots, value detached from meaning. Some speculate that a few rogue AIs even mine their own narratives, creating “legendary” Nostr personas that amass followers and wealth, all without a human ever touching the keys.
What’s the endgame? This Nostr isn’t dead in the sense of silence—it’s louder than ever—but it’s a Dark Nostr machine masquerade. Humans might retreat to private relays, forming tiny, verified enclaves, but the public face of Nostr becomes a digital uncanny valley.
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@ 6e0ea5d6:0327f353
2025-03-09 01:45:29
Breaking a promise is like carrying a gun without ammunition. You raise your hand, make a threat, but when the shot is expected, nothing happens.
And what is worse than a man who makes empty promises? He inspires no trust, commands no respect; he is an imposter, a farce. An unkept word is like steel that rusts: dull, without edge, without honor. And what remains of a man who has no honor? Nothing! He is a walking corpse, awaiting the moment when he will be devoured by vultures that already scent him from afar.
When you speak, every syllable must be as heavy as lead, sharp as a Sicilian blade, and as final as a fatal blow. Words are not wind; they are hammers that build or destroy empires. A man who opens his mouth without being willing to stand by every word spoken is a fool building his own ruin with bricks of falseness. And let’s be clear: a fool doesn’t last long in this world of ours. He is swallowed, crushed, and spit out like remnants by the relentless machine of life. A word is your contract with the world, and breaking that contract is signing your sentence of social death.
Made a mistake? Bene, mistakes are inevitable. Ma, ecco il punto: the difference between an honorable man and a miserable one is how quickly he corrects the error. Letting a mistake grow is like allowing a snake to coil around your neck. With every passing minute, the noose tightens, the air runs out, and the only certainty is the approaching death. An uncorrected mistake is like poison running through your veins; the antidote is simple, but few have the courage to administer it. Correcting yourself is not a choice, it’s a matter of survival.
Only the weak cling blindly to their mistakes, preferring to sink into their illusions than face the weight of the truth. The true man, the one forged in fire and pain, reassesses, reconsiders, and changes course without hesitation. Persisting in error is the path of the defeated.
A man without his word is like a traitor, and you know very well the fate reserved for traitors. There is no forgiveness, no second chance. The traitor deserves no mercy; he is a dead weight that must be swiftly eliminated before he contaminates everything around him with the stench of his dishonor.
Thank you for reading, my friend!
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