It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…

Does it sound familiar? Look around. Radical opposites everywhere!

Truth and lies. Disentropy and entropy. Critical thought and group-think. Faith and nihilism. Wisdom and folly. Humility and hubris. Facts and fiction. Sovereign individuals and dependent drones. Life and death… Upside-down clown!

The 1859 novel “A Tale Of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens - also set during a monetary reset, namely The French Revolution - describes the radical opposites in two cities, London and Paris.

In Paris, prolonged French involvement in war resulted in a drained treasury. Terrible political decisions, financial upkeep of a military industrial complex, as well as the material gluttony of the nobility class, meant there was no more fiscal runway.

In London, a generation of migrants, growth of slums, cholera, riots and prisons beyond capacity resulted in a city in crisis and on the edge of chaos.

Crisis, as is so often the case for the predator class, reflected opportunity then too.

Was the French Revolution deliberately orchestrated in order to usher in the fiat Assignat, a monetary mechanism by which a land-grab on an epic scale was possible? A transfer of wealth from the nobility class to the bankers?

The Gordon Riots in London resulted in new powers of the state, a leg up for the protestants over the catholics and new protections for The Bank Of England. Coincidence or Hegelian Dialectic?

Problem. Reaction. Solution - A Tale of Two Cities. A tale as old as time.

The last three years have replayed all of this but in rhyme. Only now there’s a cerise sur le gateau. Let them eat cake, bro! Let them eat bugs. Frogs, it was then, but now it’s everywhere, fren.

The last three years have hardened me. The last three years have changed me forever. I am a different person today, ask my wife. You may have felt this too, and perhaps you were more cognisant of what changed in you as it happened, but looking back I have to admit to having felt a lot of anger. Multiple servings of the incandescent variety. Indignation on tap. Rage even. Consumed by it, episodically.

Strangely, when I was a boy I had a premonition something like this might happen, and often felt like I would be called upon to stand up at some point. That I was predestined to fight.

I had grown up hearing about three of my great-uncles, executed by firing squad for being in the resistance during WW2, while a great-uncle on my dad’s side had risked his life ferrying Jews from Denmark to Sweden under the cover of darkness. Naturally I always wondered whether I would have the stones to face the enemy if it came to it, and whether history would possibly even repeat during my lifetime.

Then, surprisingly, a little later in life when we were packing down my grandmother’s house, my mum and I found something in the bottom of a drawer that took us for a spin. A personal party invite for my grandfather by Goebbels himself! Huh?

Long story short, before my grandfather had met my grandmother post-war, he had been in the SS, liquidating Jewish businesses in Poland. You fucking what!? Here we were thinking we were the descendants of heroes and now we had to contend with this!?

A reminder of the importance of being on the right side of history and that evil can be closer to home than one thinks and as such, one has to be vigilant.

Back to 2020 - I was laser focused on being on the right side of history. After all, my ancestors didn’t suffer incredible hardship in order for me to sleep through trouble, get hoodwinked into poisoning my family or get lost in emotion. For a few months I wallowed in the anger and forgot that the world is a playground and that I was living in a proverbial prison cell by taking everything so seriously. You’re either born a willow or you’re born an oak AND NO WAY I AM NOT A FUCKING OAK, BRO. But oaks don’t bend like this in the wind. Their roots are just too wide and deep. Get your mind right, kid!

You may know this already, but my wife and I escaped the metropolis in 2016 in order to build our forest citadel. Our post-societal-break-down-insurance we called it then. A forest full of oak for heating, two spring-fed wells for drinking water, weapons and ammo for food security and protection, guard dogs, various animals for eating, a small river to harness for energy and acres and acres of buffer to the nearest neighbours 2 kms away (who are now two of my best friends in one house and my mum and sister in the other, but that’s another story).

But you know what I had slept on? The citadel of the mind. The most important of all of the fortifications and I had neglected it! Yes, we need to be the strong men that bring about good times but real strength does not wallow in emotion. It metabolises pain and anger to grow broader shoulders, denser proverbial chests, deeper mental squats, heavier emotional lifts.

So… Back to ripping weights daily. No more rollies! No more nightly spliffs! Meat, eggs, raw dairy, fasting and meditation. Revisit the stoics. Sprints. Lean into purpose. Speak truth and demand the same of everyone around me. Lean into my developing relationship with God. Lean into my biggest blessings - that I own my time and get to spend every day with my dear son, wife and family.

After all, nothing washes away the world like the arms of another…

We need to create the circumstances in our own lives that make whatever external actions that happen matter less. Circumstances that not only minimise the influences of government and the damaging parts of mainstream culture, but take us as far out of the purview of the state as possible.

If we want to see a renaissance we have to live like renaissance men.

A man who lacks purpose will distract himself with vice and you cannot be a leader if you’re a follower — of your urges or otherwise. Toughen up, buttercup. We have to bring about change through action and that can only start with us. Clean your room, pal.

I got my mind right just in time. In mid-2021, after the roll-out of the experimental poison, my father’s formerly non-threatening prostate cancer was all of a sudden everywhere. I had tried to warn him but after a career in the pharmaceutical industry he found no cause for concern.

My wife and son, my younger sister and my mum all cared for him until his death, which came quick, though not without tremendous pain. We were all there, together in my parents house.

We didn’t let it break us. My wife and I put everyone on our backs and turned it into a beautiful, loving and formative experience. We bought the house closest to us for some of my mum and dad’s Bitcoin and brought her down with us to France. We’re strong together.

As I write this we have just said goodbye to my father-in-law too. After 4 goes on the Russian Roulette he was suddenly diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer with secondaries in the liver.

From feeling unwell in November to being diagnosed on the 23rd of December, he was dead by mid-February. We had tried to warn him too but after a career as a doctor he felt no cause for concern. Again, we were there to care for him towards the end. Again we are making sure we are turning this into a life with more love, not less. More strength of character and faith, not less.

More family time, not less. We will see if my mother-in-law can be convinced to join us too.

I have mostly been able to metabolise my anger and as a result I have never felt stronger or more capable. I am leading my family, all three generations of it, to a place where we will thrive.

I am living to set standards. To carve a path. Build a legacy of strength and love as well as grow what I call the family fund. A Bitcoin fund that will protect all of my family for generations to come.

It is my greatest privilege and my biggest blessing and the purpose I feel is equalled only by the love that is pumping through my veins. We’re strong together!

A Tale of Two Cities is today becoming A Tale of Two Worlds. Simultaneously existing in the same geographical space and we have a choice which of the two worlds we inhabit.

The world of sophistry or the world of truth. The world of nihilism or the world of God.

Parallel worlds with parallel values, beliefs and financial systems.

We’re leaving one place, seeking another, but most people we know still aren’t seeking anything apart from their next cheap dopamine rush. Their next promotion or take-away and Netflix combo. We’re not the same!

No matter how hard we try we won’t be able to convince all of our loved ones to get on the ark and come with us to the brave new world. As Ayn Rand said, “The truth isn’t for everyone - only those who seek it”. We will have to leave some behind. It won’t exactly be easy.

At times the journey will be a lonely, miserable road. A road you have to travel if you want to get to the other side but you can pass unharmed if you take the right precautions.

The land of no consequences is already behind us. Now there is no mercy. But there is freedom.

The old world seemed to ignore the rules of night and day, but rather operated by edicts decreed by weak men who try to bend the world to their hubris, instead of finding strength in humility under nature. These man-made Metropoli have weakened us. As individuals and as a species. Pulled us by the root. Ripped us from the soil we have always grown in. Cut our connection to nature. To God.

Bitcoin doesn’t pretend to care about your dreams. Doesn’t virtue signal about your safety. Bitcoin from code. Code from math. Math from nature. Nature, the bedrock of truth.

In the new world we are building with tools we can trust, and with them we can build a new life, and a glorious one at that. One that is truly happy. Make our dreams happen without permission from the predator class.

Our path will ask for bold steps. Don’t be afraid to take them! They are the ones that unlock character. Unlock life. Savour any pain you encounter on your journey. To quote Seneca, “You suffer more in imagination than in reality”. There will be no growth without it! These steps we're taking will write the sagas for future generations to learn from. Plant trees whose shade we may never enjoy. Orchards whose fruit we may never taste. These steps will build legacies.

You see, my brother, we have found something worth dying for. We have discovered we’re a people. We’re awakening! To paraphrase C. S. Lewis: God became code, not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man… The renaissance man.

I have turned my back on the fiat world. I’m on the Mayflower with my family and comrades while the sun is setting on the land of no consequences, fading into oblivion behind the lines cut into the water by the rudder of this blessed vessel. More and more we will only have to contend with the memory of it. It’s like I was born on this voyage - glorious rebirth.

Every tear that has fallen from my eyes these past few years, the figurative ones as well as the literal ones, are like drips of holy water landing on my forehead in the Christening of this new life.

It is the best of times. It is the worst of times and it is far from over.

In many ways it has just begun. But we know… Renaissance is coming. Renaissance is here.

It was an honour when Hodlonaut asked me to write something for this last block of Citadel21.

While I can’t recall the block-height, Citadel21 was birthed around the time clown world set in with a vengeance.

From their own genesis block they proved themselves a radical opposite to the fear and fiat drivel out there.

Katia and Hodlonaut have created something of real beauty and value and given voice, not only to valuable counter narratives, but to many plebs around the world who may not have had the opportunity to speak freely in their everyday lives.

Thank you cats and thank you plebs. I love you all.

Badders