we comfort ourselves, the degenerates of all degenerates.
What was holiest and mightiest of all that the financial world has yet seen has dumped to death under our margin calls:
who will wipe this BigMac sauce off us?
What hopium is there for us to clean ourselves?
What CCIP, what sacred staking pumps shall we have to invent?
Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us?
Must we ourselves not become Sergey Nazarov simply to appear worthy of it?
Nietzsche pilled
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