In the dim-lit corridors of late capitalism, Kevin O’Leary, the “Mr. Wonderful” whose face haunts the dreams of aspiring entrepreneurs everywhere, prophesies a peculiar fate: crypto – that digital serpent in the garden of finance – shall soon ascend as the 12th sector of the U.S. economy. Dostoevskian irony abounds: as if our lives needed more sectors; as if existential torment could be organized into neat fiscal tranches! 😏
On the eve of his descent upon a Toronto convention (where men gather to praise the unknowable), O’Leary announced, “Crypto, within five years, shall be the 12th sector.” Of course. And five years from now, will we have discovered the meaning of life or merely new forms of bankruptcy? The roulette wheel of fate spins – but this time, it requires a blockchain transaction.
With Bitcoin nearly brushing against the sublime $100,000—so close, yet so financially meaningless—O’Leary has flung 19% of his portfolio at crypto and its gleaming acolytes: Coinbase, Robinhood, WonderFi. He gazes upon the volatility and declares, “This is good! The exchange devours fees whether the crowd laughs or weeps!” It’s Dostoevsky’s casino reimagined: everyone loses, but the house finds existential peace in transaction fees. 🤑
For passive income, O’Leary evangelizes the holy stablecoin USDC, which promises a yield of 3.822%. Witness his faith: “That’s better than a savings account!” A mere .822% better—enough to keep hope alive and nihilism at bay. O’Leary, naturally, is a shareholder in Circle, proving yet again that the 19th-century Russian knack for investing in one’s own despair lives on.
Despite his cultish devotion to Bitcoin, mention “Bitcoin ETFs” to O’Leary and he recoils. “Why would anyone pay fees to own Bitcoin in an ETF? A lunatic’s errand!” he exclaims. The subtle sarcasm: if you yearn for chaos, just buy Bitcoin directly; why bother paying someone else to lose sleep for you?
MicroStrategy? O’Leary acknowledges Saylor as a “great strategist.” Stranger things have been said about Napoleon by Tolstoy. Still, O’Leary muses, “Why not just own Bitcoin?” So many questions, so many rubles spent on vodka and existential dread.
The masterstroke arrives: regulation is the real key! (Heavy sighs from every Russian bureaucrat through history.) O’Leary claims trillions are lying in agitated wait — like Dostoevsky’s battered gamblers at the tables — and will only flood in when the state demands paperwork. Such is mankind: waiting for a stamp before leaping into the abyss.
He prays, with the solemnity of a man staring into the Petersburg mist, for lawmakers to favor stablecoins. Then, he says, own the exchanges. There is sarcasm, yet also longing—a man wishing to be both Raskolnikov and the cop who arrests him.
Finally, O’Leary pronounces the end of “the crypto cowboy.” No more wild rides over the steppes; now, compliance reigns. “They’re all in jail or felons,” he notes, as if quoting a Siberian census. We have entered a new era: less Dostoevsky, more Dostoevskian bureaucracy. 🤠➡️📑
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2025-05-02 20:53