"Trumpenkrieg: Memecoins of the End Times, or the Psychedelic Death of Empire"

The timeline fractures; reality itself feels like a sharded chain on the brink of a network-wide reorg. Trump, the self-proclaimed god-emperor of the most deranged empire since Caligula, has launched a Solana-based coin—$TRUMP—and the crypto world is set ablaze. Bitcoin maxis are frothing at the mouth, screaming “shitcoiners!” at anyone daring to touch the orange man's token. Their Copium reserves are running dry as they tweet endlessly about Bitcoin's "immaculate conception," while BTC itself trudges forward, weighed down by the chains of its ossified idealism.

Tricks with polynomials and Riemann-Roch spaces. Breaking into the platonic realm to pillage forbidden abstractions. Starknet grantee.

Meanwhile, Nostr is seething. If Solana is Sparta, Nostr is a wandering barbarian tribe, banging their spears against the gates of every citadel. They loathe the rotting Rome that is X, despise $TRUMP (the ultimate shitcoin psyop), and declare themselves the only true sons of decentralization. They are angry because no one is listening to them, but they’ll die on their hill nonetheless, their ideals pure, even if it means watching their dreams burn alongside them.