Is it OK to wake&bake IF it's Sativa, or is it just stoner coping?

Getting some hardcore vibe coding done on the @PUBPAY.me migration today

the agent changed135 files while I was dancing

The city shimmered with orange reflections from thousands of screens. The conference was in full swing — a yearly pilgrimage for the believers. Builders, developers, educators, privacy advocates, all gathered under banners of “freedom through code.” By midday, the conference hall buzzed with talks on Chaumian mints, Nostr relays, and sovereign computing. But outside, unmarked vans rolled quietly through the narrow streets. Inside them, agents watched live drone feeds, their visors reflecting lines of code captured in real time from wireless sniffers. At precisely 14:08, the lights in the convention center flickered. Screens froze. Then the sound system crackled. “This is an international operation. Remain where you are.” For a moment, nobody moved — some laughed, assuming it was performance art. Then the exits sealed. The sound of armored boots echoed through the glass halls of the Congress Center. Every attendee’s badge, linked to their digital identity for “security,” was instantly cross-referenced against a list pulled from the dark web. Drones descended from the rafters, scanning QR tattoos and wallet chips. One developer tried to smash his laptop. A flashbang blinded the room before he could reach it. Within minutes, the scene looked like the aftermath of a silent war. Rows of people handcuffed, faces illuminated by the glow of confiscated hardware wallets and confiscated nodes. The detainees were taken to a secret facility — an underground data center beneath the Alps, retrofitted as a “digital interrogation unit.” The air smelled of metal and ozone. Each room was the same: a chair, a desk, a cold light, and a terminal running a custom operating system called Obsidian Mirror — built to extract cryptographic secrets through a mix of psychological pressure and biometric monitoring. “You will unlock your seed phrases,” the interrogator said. “Never.” “Then you will remain here until entropy itself forgets you.” Rumors spread fast across the surviving mesh networks. Developers burned their keys. Lightning nodes went dark one by one. GitHub repositories vanished. Bitcoin itself didn’t fall — but its spirit, its living pulse of human resistance, shuddered. For the first time in decades, the cypherpunks whispered not on encrypted channels, but in fear. The ideals of self-sovereignty were under siege not by censorship or inflation — but by fear itself. The raid became the myth that split the movement — the end of one era and the terrifying rebirth of another.

Still looking for work

You guys are all retards

When I feel that having educated thousands of people on Bitcoin and Nostr using @Chain Duel and @PUBPAY.me is not enough

Dinner Bill split

GM

Take your security into your own hands

Being back at a bitcoin conference and seeing all these familiar faces and parafriendships makes me feel at home

Bitcoin is meant to be loved, not worshiped

looking for a job in bitcoin

GM

Poor lonely models 🥲

Nostr Wallet Connect on Primal Web hits different 😎

A war doesn't start with a cannon blast, It starts with someone quietly sharpening a knife

I love these 2017 style late bull market stage swings 😍

Cursor is an hungry animal

After all, Why wouldn't I make a commit with 45k lines?