It is stability which gives a thing its essential character. The strength of an arch, the even burning of a flame, the growth of an animal, the balance of a forest ecology, the steady flow of a river, the economic security of a nation, the sanity of a human individual, the health of a society: these are all, in one way or another, concerned with stability.
— Christopher Alexander; Systems Generating Systems
I would really prefer that we don’t muck-up crypto. I do not want the Web3 haters to be right.
Sure, we can come up with excuses and call the haters luddites, or say that they refuse to accept innovation because they have too much banking on the status quo.
I think taking this approach is shortsighted and dangerous. There has to be some truth to what the haters are seeing —they’re smart people — so we need to open our eyes.
My Web2 friends, overwhelmed by Discord servers, bots, and flashiness, have become cynical about Web3.
I don’t blame them. It’s not entirely their fault, but it’s a shame.
It’s a shame because their participation could be a win-win, despite their belief that crypto is a win-lose empty status game.
Hello, friends. Welcome to a short story about Decentralized Autonomous Organizations (DAOs). This short story will become part of an anthology of short stories: a book.
The book is for you if you have started to peek inside the DAO rabbit hole. Perhaps DAOs are still a black hole for you, or maybe you have started to see the light but feel overwhelmed. Either way, you are curious and want to explore.
This story is for you if you are a bit confused about crypto and don’t understand what all the fuss is about, and if you feel that crypto is just a bunch of rich white dudes humble bragging on Twitter. This post is for you if you like to dig into things and learn the why and how things are the way they are.
Once upon a time, in America, three white dudes were scared.
Timothy C. May was at home when he heard a noise. He ran to his living room closet. He opened the closet door and took out a big gun. He ran to the front door, gun in hand, and slid against the wall, holding the gun close to his chest. His eyes are big and aware, as he slowly opens the door. He looks down and sees a squirrel, chewing on an acorn. Phew. Not an intruder. But, oh well, why not, he thinks to himself, I may as well shoot the squirrel.
It’s one day before the year 2021 ends.
I am sitting at my writing desk, looking out the window.
My window overlooks a square, shared by my apartment building and her sister building across the way.
There is a pool in the square and a lemon tree. No one ever uses the pool, even when on warm days.
This is my first post on Mirror.
I am excited, but I am also anxious. This is, after all, my inaugural post on a Web3 platform for writers.
I feel a lot of pressure.