On the night of June 23rd, BCH made a valiant, if not melodramatic, leap to $467. A 3% surge—bravo!—before being shown the door. Twice more our protagonist attempted entry; twice more it met the consternation of “Not tonight, darling.” Lower highs trailed forlornly behind that initial spike, composing a bearish sonnet in descending trendlines (perhaps set to minor key).
Enter Fluence, galloping in on a white horse—okay, more like a mid-sized, slightly over-caffeinated llama—all set to build what cloud Goliaths cannot: a compute layer that’s actually open, fairly priced, and not the pet project of trillion-dollar empires. And, get this, you don’t need an invitation to participate. No secret handshakes, no shareholder meetings, and certainly no Jeff Bezos lurking in the shadows.
Treasury and Finance, armed with the bureaucratic fervor of an over-caffeinated Dostoevsky character, prescribes a transfer note of at least twenty characters to every transaction. Twenty characters, yes! As if the criminal would pause mid-escape to compose a haiku: “Bought socks. Not laundering. Promise.” Should you omit this sonnet, the punishment is swift—a 72-hour wait, which is, coincidentally, also the average time for a Turkish family to agree on a dinner menu.
The fella at the helm of this grand expedition is President Lee Jae Myung, fresh out of the electoral oven and smellin’ like reform. His bright idea? Decouple that good old Republic from the iron grip of foreign money—particularly Uncle Sam’s beloved greenbacks—and float Korea right into the thick of Asia’s digital cash rodeo. Because nothing says “global powerhouse” like your own brand of electronic funny-money! 💸
Shin Bet and the Israeli police kicked off the weekend with a bang by nabbing a Tel Aviv resident, age 27, on suspicion of spying for Iran for—wait for it—cryptocurrency. You can’t make this stuff up. Crypto! Was the Mossad accountant on vacation? Supposedly, the guy raked in thousands for a little freelance espionage, like it’s Fiverr, except the gigs are all “spy on your neighbors.”
Lest you clutch your pearls over financial recklessness, rest easy: the $10 million set aside for this little crypto soirée represents less than the cost of a single armadillo-themed barbecue (or, if one must be precise, about 0.0004% of the budget). Nevertheless, it seems destined to make ripples. The move is, to paraphrase our blockchain baron Lee Bratcher, more a declaration of digital intention than a severe flirtation with bankruptcy.