Web3: Vegas vs. Promised Land

You’re walking along on your merry way, and a person, some sort of monk, starts yelling your way: “Our world is corrupt! The Pharaohs have consolidated too much power! They have strayed from the path and ruined our land. Our people deserver better.”

Normally, you don’t take kindly to monks prophesizing about the future. In fact, you know that this group of monks, in particular, has profited handsomely from helping the current Pharaohs rise and consolidate their power. So you’re even more skeptical.

But, as you consider yourself a rational person, you evaluate those statements on their merit. You do agree that too much power has been consolidated. The people deserve better. You deserve better.

So despite your aversion to monks, you decide to give him a chance.

“We’re going to the promised land,” he tells you. “The promised land is decentralized. No one has power. You are free to do what you want.”

That sounds a little mixed. You do like decentralization, and you love freedom, but if there’s too much freedom, things can run amok. But you’ve peeked into the rabbit hole now, and you’re not one to back down. Also, the Pharaohs suck. They give you shit for free but then find ways of taxing you. Fuck those guys.

He keeps talking. A lot of it sounds like monk mumbo-jumbo, obfuscation. This monk is savvy, though, and he can tell you’re starting to get a little suspicious.

“Come, see for yourself. It’s not that far. Anyone can join, anonymously, and no one will know who you are.”

He gestures towards what looks like a garden. You’re surprised—you expected the promised land to be a little further away.

“But I must warn you. Some things are still being figured out. The roads are slow, and you have to pay to use them. But these are details. Our community will figure it out. Don’t let it distract you from the big ideas.”

That sounds bad. But, you see a few friends walking into the garden. People you know, people you trust. For a split second, you wonder what the monk meant when he promised anonymity given that you can identify people going in, but you brush that thought aside.

What the heck. “Let’s go,” you say. He walks you towards the garden.

You look inside. It looks like a casino. People are gambling. There are tigers and apes. A circus casino. And did that dude just literally pull the rug out from under a bunch of people? Are these people believers? Or are they gamblers?

You’re disappointed. You really wanted to believe. But this isn’t it, or it isn’t it yet.

“Clearly, dear monk, you’re onto something here. There’s no denying that. “

“But this promised land isn’t for me,” you say, as you turn around and walk away. “It seems more like Vegas.”

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