My uncle's health and happiness was the envy of the extended family and neighbors. Growing up, I would wonder how one man could be clever, strong, funny and creative! The kids would sing the songs he'd write, the grown ups would watch the movies he was in, and on and on.
It turns out, the reason he was so happy, all the time, is that he had a magical printer at home. It printed crisp color photos and laser sharp documents like any other printer, but the real magic was when it printed green. Whenever he needed to buy something, he'd simply make up a number, print the number in green and that's it - he could use that printed sheet to buy anything in the world!
Over time, I could see that age was catching up with my uncle. He had become less dashing, his steps appeared unsure, his machismo was lost. He was softer, kinder and sadly weaker. But now, he's passed on and I have inherited the printer. I start to examine it closely. From external appearances, the printer doesn't seem magical. It's designed by regular Americans - not just coastal elites. It needs an electrical motor, that's made in Germany. It needs ink that I get from Japan. The paper itself comes from Canada. The software is written in India. And the whole thing is assembled in China. Pretty much like any other printer I can buy from BestBuy. The exceptional thing about my printer is that I pay for all that it needs, and all that I need, with the same printed sheet that comes from my printer! That's some real magic right there.
Now you might say that such perpetual machines always turn out to be fake in the mechanical world. But this is different in a very subtle way. This printer is powered by a source that's endless. Well, it's lasted for approximately 250 years already! Sure, the printer has been abused by past generations and its power source has dimmed and flared, but so far it has all held up reasonably well.
Now you might say, "What's the catch? Why let the world on to this secret? Just let the good times roll."
Well, here's the problem, I don't feel good. People don't laugh at my jokes like they used to when my uncle cracked them, they don't ask my opinion on any movie they're making, I'm mocked and ignored all the time, ... I think that if I fix the printer, I'll restore myself to my uncle's past glory.
Today, every time I print, I need to follow the user manual. This 4,543 word-long manual doesn't have simple steps like "insert paper in tray and hit the print button." Instead, it has complex instructions that amount to getting permission from regular people. Not directly - I talk to their reps, who're already in my pocket, but still... I have to write down exactly why I need to print, provide details of how the money will get spent, blah, blah, blah... All this due process really slows me down. Without that permission slip, somehow the magical green sheet stops working. It's as if the entire world needs to know that this pesky crowd, albeit 300 million strong, has endorsed this sheet. It's time to make changes, big changes.
First, I'm going to buy Bitcoin with the green sheets that still work. Since I don't understand money and a whole lot of people think Bitcoin is going up, it seems like a good way to diversify my holdings. Then, and this is my most genius idea, I'm going to stop swapping my magical green sheets for finished goods and material from countries around the world. I'll force them to buy goods that I make, because I make the best stuff. As for all those pesky rules about getting permission - I'm going to ignore them and let my friends take over the printer while I own it. Let's see how it goes. See you in 2028, or 2032, or never. Heh, heh.
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