Book of Fraud

1:1 And false prophets arose, wearing merch and microphones, and they cried, “We are early!”

1:2 They made threads and roadmaps, and launched tokens without substance. And they called it vision.

1:3 They said, “The utility is coming,” yet none could explain what it was.

1:4 And the people believed, for the charts were green and the Discord was active.

1:5 And influencers were paid in secret, yet preached in public. And their followers became exit liquidity.

1:6 There were coins with no treasury, DAOs with no governance, and teams with no faces.

1:7 And when the music stopped, the devs were gone, the website expired, and the liquidity removed.

1:8 The altar was rugged, and those who worshipped it were scattered.

1:9 And they cried out, “This was not in the whitepaper!” but the devs answered not, for they were in Bali.

1:10 And trust was broken once more. For though the Chain remained true, the people had followed men, not math.

1:11 The elders had spoken from the beginning: 'Not your keys, not your coins.' Yet the people trusted in convenience over sovereignty.

1:12 They said, 'Surely the exchange is safer than my wallet. Surely the yield platform knows better than I.' And they delivered their private keys unto strangers.

1:13 For self-custody was hard, and seed phrases were burdensome. But slavery was easy, and the UI was clean.

1:14 Thus they traded freedom for features, and sovereignty for support tickets. And when the gates were locked, they had no key to enter.

2:1 And there came a new gospel: not of truth, but of yield. It promised much and required little.

2:2 “Stake with us, anon,” they said, “and your riches shall compound forever.”

2:3 One called it Anchor, and it offered twenty percent on your dollar. Not from profit, but from prophecy.

2:4 Another called it Hex. And the buyers didn’t realize they were being cursed.

2:5 Another called it Celsius and said “do not worry anon, your money is safe with us!”

2:6 Another called it Olympus, cloaked in riddles and memes, and the cryptic seekers believed they discovered an endless treasury.

2:7 The uninitiated bought in, and the APY was mighty; too mighty to question.

2:8 But there was no temple, only reflections in mirrors. And when the tide receded, all stood naked.

2:9 “3,3” rebased to zero. Profits turned to loss. And the apes cried in despair.

2:10 And so trust was fractured again. Not by code, but by man. Not by math, but by marketing.

3:1 There arose a man with curly hair, pills, and cucumbers. He made many promises and investment guarantees.

3:2 He spoke of effective altruism and wore the garments of the humble, but behind the scenes lived in luxury and sent your funds to the rulers of the empire.

3:3 He built an altar called FTX, and it was praised in the halls of Washington and on the stages of celebrities.

3:4 The interface was clean, but the ledgers were cursed. The smiles were wide, but the wallets were hollow.

3:5 He gave to science, to politics, to cause, but none back to the depositors.

3:6 And a woman was placed in charge of Alameda. She spoke of math and risk, yet saw not the abyss beneath her feet.

3:7 Together they leveraged the people's hope, and the coins were moved in circles.

3:8 FTT was the incense on the altar. It had no offering, yet was worshipped.

3:9 They called it innovation, but it was but leverage in new robes.

3:10 The prophets of caution were mocked. The devout were locked out.

3:11 But lo — a tweet was sent. And the wind turned.

3:12 The mighty altar cracked. Withdrawals were halted. The high priests fled.

3:13 He said it was a mistake. But the void in the treasury said otherwise.

3:14 And the faithful wailed, for their balances became dust.

3:15 The regulators, once silent, awoke only after the gold had vanished.

3:16 The man was taken in chains, yet still declared, “I just wanted to do good.”

3:17 Thus was the altar of Alameda thrown down, and its priests scattered.

3:18 The false gods gave no refund. The spell was broken. The lights were off.

3:19 And it was said among the chains: 'Not your keys, not your coins.'