The deliberate destruction of evidence is not a mistake; it is an act of evasion. The Vistomail and AnonymousSpeech websites were intentionally shut down after solicitors accessed the Satoshi account, proving that COPA will stop at nothing to hide the truth. Truth is a value that cannot be compromised. The shutdown of these sites, which referenced Craig Wright (spelt incorrectly of course) by name, is evidence of a deliberate attempt to conceal facts crucial to the case. COPA’s actions reflect not a defence but an admission of guilt.

The notion that BTC will somehow reach a billion users, with each one happily transacting away, is the kind of absurdity only the truly gullible could believe. Let’s start with the hard numbers: BTC, at its best, can handle about 5 to 6 transactions per second. That’s a grand total of around 173 million transactions per year. And yet, we’re supposed to believe this system will support a billion people? Do the math—each person would be lucky to get a single transaction every five or six years. It’s like imagining a global highway system where everyone can only drive once a decade. Ludicrous, isn’t it? Then we’re treated to the invocation of Metcalfe’s Law, as if it’s some magical incantation that will make BTC’s scaling issues disappear. The law suggests that the value of a network grows with the square of its users, but it assumes the network can actually support those users in the first place. BTC can’t. It’s not that adding more users will suddenly increase value—it’ll just clog an already congested system. The reality is that BTC’s architecture simply wasn’t designed for this kind of load, and waving Metcalfe’s Law around like a magic wand doesn’t change that.

The idea that BTC could ever reach $1 million is not just improbable; it is entirely detached from economic and technical reality. Let’s address this logically. At $1 million per BTC, with a supply of 21 million, the total market cap would sit at $21 trillion. To put that into perspective, the global economy is roughly $100 trillion. Are we really to believe that over 20% of the world’s economy could be tied up in a speculative digital asset that produces nothing? It doesn’t generate goods, it doesn’t provide services, and it certainly isn’t widely used as a medium of exchange. What we are dealing with here is pure speculation, and to claim that such a figure is possible ignores basic economic principles. Even if BTC were to rise to $600,000, which some seem to suggest is feasible, we would still be looking at a market cap of $12.6 trillion. This would eclipse the largest companies and some entire economies, all for something that serves no productive purpose. This is not an asset being driven by utility or innovation; it is being driven by speculative greed. There is no real-world foundation to support such valuations.

Bitcoin, as designed by Satoshi Nakamoto, was never meant to be a cypherpunk creation aimed at absolute anonymity. The idea that Bitcoin is somehow a purely anonymous, untraceable digital currency is a misunderstanding of its very purpose and architecture. Bitcoin is traceable by design, and while it provides privacy, it does not provide anonymity—and these two concepts are often mistakenly conflated. The cypherpunk movement generally advocates not for privacy, but anonymity through strong encryption, radical (Marxist) decentralisation, and anonymity, resisting surveillance and control and being outside of legal constraints.However, Bitcoin, while enabling peer-to-peer transactions without intermediaries, was designed with transparency in mind. Every transaction on the Bitcoin network is recorded in a public ledger—the blockchain. This ledger ensures that every transaction can be viewed and verified, which directly counters the idea of Bitcoin as an anonymous system.

Adam Back's claim of a future $100 trillion asset class is not just a failure of truth—it is a betrayal of reality itself. Such a figure cannot be conjured from thin air without foundation, without reason, without the relentless pursuit of fact. To assert that the global economy, already limited by the constraints of wealth and productivity, could support such a notion is the height of intellectual dishonesty. This is not a mistake of calculation. It is a deliberate evasion of reality, a conscious effort to distort the minds of those who trust in facts. He seeks to profit not by creating value, not by producing, but by manipulating the perceptions of those who would follow him into this financial abyss.

And what is more insidious than a man who, knowing the limits of truth, chooses instead to perpetuate a falsehood?

Dr. Adam Back’s online actions, or rather his deliberate inactions, represent a sophisticated form of dishonesty—an act of deception not through explicit falsehoods, but through strategic silence. He quietly states that he is not Satoshi Nakamoto, the creator of Bitcoin, yet he has never taken meaningful steps to dispel the widespread belief that he may be. This subtle allowance for others to build a narrative around him is not merely a passive acceptance of an incorrect assumption, but a calculated maneuver to gain credibility and attract investment. The lie lies not in what he has said, but in what he has failed to say. He has never truly quashed the rumors, allowing the myth to grow and allowing others to believe what benefits him. By doing so, he has positioned himself as someone whose name is constantly associated with Bitcoin’s origin, even though he is fundamentally disconnected from its creation. It is a deception of omission—by allowing people to believe he is Satoshi, without ever fully rejecting the notion, Back has engaged in a subtle, insidious form of fraud.

Erik Voorhees stands as the embodiment of the dishonest man, the man who would distort reality and twist it into his own fiction. He sold shares in SatoshiDICE, offering them without the honesty that underpins any legitimate transaction, and without the full disclosure that integrity demands. He told his investors that these were not securities, but they were. He knew the law, knew what these shares represented, and yet, in his arrogance, he believed he could evade the truth. His argument was not merely flawed, it was a deliberate lie. The law—specifically, the Howey Test—is clear in its definition of securities: an investment of money, in a common enterprise, with the expectation of profit derived from the efforts of others. These shares in SatoshiDICE fit that definition exactly, but Voorhees pretended otherwise. He told people to buy without informing them of the risks, without the transparency that honesty requires.

Years ago, I created intellectual property for what is known as the Benford’s Wallet. It is designed to ensure that payments cannot be easily traced or linked to one another by employing Benford’s Law. The key to this system is that it splits transaction amounts into varied coins, making them statistically difficult to attribute to a single payment. For example, if you were to pay $100, rather than paying with uniform coins or equal amounts, you would break this payment into multiple coin denominations. These values could range from fractions of a cent to amounts equivalent to a $20 note. This distribution would follow a natural pattern, closely mimicking real-world spending habits, ensuring that the mixed values cannot be easily tracked or identified as part of the same payment. This idea directly counters the vulnerabilities found in systems like Monero. Monero claims to offer anonymity, but the distinction here is critical: anonymity is not privacy. Anonymity may obscure the identity of the sender, but it does not protect the transaction itself from analysis. Monero has been traceable for years using statistical methods. The design of Monero, which focuses on obscuring transactions without genuinely protecting them from advanced statistical analysis, has allowed many of its transactions to be traced, revealing the limits of its supposed anonymity.

Ah, BTC—the digital relic of what was once Bitcoin. It’s now little more than a cautionary tale of how a revolution becomes a bureaucracy in record time. Satoshi’s dream was sleek, elegant, and most of all, liberating. But now? Now it’s like watching a racehorse become a plodding, bloated mule dragging a cart full of “full nodes” that insist they’re still winning the race. Let’s not kid ourselves—BTC is no longer Bitcoin. Bitcoin was lean, fast, direct—peer-to-peer, just like it was meant to be. BTC, on the other hand, is like a pensioner trying to get up the stairs while the world moves on. You know it used to run, but now you’re mostly waiting for it to fall over and admit the game's up.

Today

What we are witnessing in BTC is a stark departure from the original principles that Bitcoin was built upon. It is not just a technological shift, but a fundamental change in how value, privacy, and direct transactions were meant to operate. At the heart of this divergence is the use of addresses. Originally, addresses in Bitcoin were nothing more than a fallback mechanism, a secondary tool for handling transactions. They were not meant to serve as permanent repositories for individual transactions or act as accounts in the way they do now. Bitcoin’s design was simple: addresses were akin to serial numbers for individual coins or notes. Each transaction represented a discrete exchange of value, not a static accumulation in a virtual account. But in BTC, that model has been reversed. Addresses have become static, with transactions piling up, creating a kind of virtual bank account that holds all your dealings. This turns the very idea of Bitcoin on its head. Instead of a fluid, dynamic process, we now have something that resembles the traditional banking system—a far cry from the decentralised, peer-to-peer model that Bitcoin was intended to be.

@kurtwuckertjr
Rights, in their proper context, do not exist simply because man wishes them into being. They are not a floating abstraction or an ideal untethered to reality. Rather, they are contextual, and this context is rooted in the social structure that acknowledges and enforces them. Without a governing framework—without a codified system of laws to protect and define them—rights would exist as theoretical constructs, with no actual power to enforce or defend them. Rights, while based on the nature of man as a rational being, must be made concrete through a legal system. If we posit a scenario without a government, the notion of rights becomes problematic. Without the structure of law, rights are mere assertions. One person may claim the right to life, while another may deny that right entirely. It is the role of government to take the abstract concept of rights and translate it into enforceable law. Rights without protection are meaningless in practice. Thus, while rights may theoretically exist as moral principles, they cannot be practically upheld or defended without a system of governance to enforce them.

The statement you provided is problematic on multiple legal and ethical fronts. Firstly, it promotes a speculative investment strategy based on unsupported and inflated claims, suggesting that Bitcoin will continuously rise to specific price points such as $100K or more. Such claims may be seen as misleading, as they do not consider the inherent volatility and unpredictability of financial markets. Promoting such a narrative without proper risk disclosure can be considered a form of market manipulation or fraud under financial regulations. The statement also attempts to create a sense of urgency, telling people to stop waiting and buy Bitcoin now because they will be able to buy less in the future. This form of emotional manipulation often targets retail investors who may not fully understand the risks of investing in a highly speculative asset. From a legal perspective, this could violate laws regarding fair and transparent financial promotion, particularly if the person making the statement has a vested interest in the market's rise. Regulatory authorities, such as the UK's Financial Conduct Authority (FCA) or the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), would view this as a violation of fair trading practices.

The critique presented here demonstrates a fundamental misunderstanding of both monopoly power and the role of the state. It attempts to present a false dichotomy, conflating all forms of authority with monopolistic control and implying that any defence of the state's existence is an endorsement of monopoly. This is a gross oversimplification, failing to recognise the distinctions between coercive monopolies and the necessary functions of governance. It is true that monopolies, in their coercive form, are harmful. They restrict choice, suppress competition, and force individuals to submit to their power. But to equate the state with such a monopoly reflects a deep misapprehension. The state, even though it wields authority, does not hold the same kind of unchallenged power in a global context. In fact, states exist in constant competition with one another. Individuals can and do move between them, choosing the jurisdictions and systems that best align with their interests and values, much like consumers selecting among businesses in a free market.

The system that was once envisioned as Bitcoin—a free and decentralised means of exchange—has been compromised by forces seeking to establish what is, in effect, a central bank under a different guise. Bitcoin was designed to empower individuals, to allow them to transact without reliance on central authorities or the interference of intermediaries. It was built upon principles of liberty and equality, where the control of one’s wealth was entirely in their own hands.

Lijiang’s food grabs you by the throat from the moment it hits the table. The air is thick with the smell of chili, garlic, and a hit of something almost medicinal. There’s a depth to it, a weight that tells you this food has roots far deeper than the polished surface of the tourist town.


The beef is the first thing that catches your attention. It’s tough, almost unforgiving, like it’s daring you to chew through the layers of flavor that have been locked in through hours of cooking. It’s salty—almost too salty—and yet there’s something addictive about it. The hit of spice from the chilies sets your mouth on fire, but it’s a good burn, the kind that keeps you going back for more, even as you feel your lips tingle and your forehead start to sweat.

Ah, the upcoming spectacle between Trump and Harris—the grand theatre of American politics, where we, Australians, get to sit in the audience and watch a play we’ve already paid for, without any say in the script.

The U.S. calls itself the land of the free, but let’s be clear: freedom, in their eyes, is reserved for those with a vote. And here we are, Australia, a loyal foot soldier, a willing participant in their wars, their policies, their economy—but when it comes to having a voice? Nothing. The irony of it all is palpable. We are bound by their decisions—whether it's a Trump administration or Harris reign—but have absolutely no influence. ANZUS, military alliances, trade agreements—Australia is locked into the American sphere, trailing behind like a dutiful servant.

We get the consequences of their elections without any of the rights to shape them. It’s not just absurd, it’s an insult to any notion of fairness or sovereignty.

Censorship, by its very nature, is an act that only a state or government can commit. It is the forcible silencing of ideas by those who hold power over society, using the force of law or coercion to control what can and cannot be said. A government can censor because it possesses the authority to punish dissent.

In contrast, a private platform cannot censor—because a platform is not a coercive entity; it is a business, an extension of private property, where the owners have the right to control what takes place within their domain. Free speech does not compel others to listen, nor does it demand that a platform must host every voice. A fundamental aspect of free speech is the freedom to choose: the choice to speak, the choice to listen, and the choice to refuse.

Just as you are not obligated to let someone speak in your own home, a platform is not obligated to host every opinion that crosses its servers. This is not censorship; it is the exercise of property rights, the same rights that protect your freedom to control your own space.

In the United States, the right to free speech is enshrined in the First Amendment of the Constitution, ensuring that the government cannot interfere with the individual’s ability to express ideas, opinions, or dissent. This protection is a cornerstone of a free society, where the state exists not as a controlling force but as a necessary, limited entity, tasked only with the defense of individual rights. Unlike other nations, where free speech is often treated as a privilege subject to government whims, in America it is an inviolable right that restricts the power of government itself. However, free speech does not mean an entitlement to someone else’s platform. It guarantees the right to express oneself without government interference, but it does not impose a duty on others to host, promote, or endorse that expression. The recent debates about social media platforms like X have illuminated a fundamental misunderstanding: the right to speak does not mean the right to be heard by everyone, everywhere, nor does it demand that others provide you with the space to do so. Platforms are private property, and just as a homeowner is not obligated to host a guest’s speech in their living room, companies are not compelled to host every opinion or voice on their platform.

One of the ironies in modern discourse is how often people assume that systems designed to protect property rights or recover assets from fraud only benefit the wealthy. In reality, systems that allow for the recovery of large-value assets through government intervention serve a much broader purpose—especially for those who are most vulnerable. It’s not hard to see why. When governments can step in, in a limited and targeted way, to recover funds lost due to embezzlement, fraud, or other criminal activity, we create an environment where the risk of losing everything to theft or deceit is drastically reduced. That doesn’t just benefit the rich, although they certainly have more to lose in terms of raw numbers. The people who stand to gain the most are often those who are most economically vulnerable.

@Zooko
Yet - you integrated Bitcoin into Tahoe and not years later... Can you explain to me how you build a distributed file system integrating bitcoin without using bitcoin?

I find that rather intriguing...

I'm sure the courts will as well.