Crafting and Charging Your Sigil-Currency: How to Put Your Money to Work for You

     As Eisenhower chided (chode?), “The world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children.” General Patton, too, remarked that “A pint of sweat will save a gallon of blood.” In Biblical times, a talent (or kikkār) was a measurement of a particularly-sized disk-shaped loaf, made of gold or silver; the monetary equivalent of twenty years' wages.

     These facts ought to show that the use of talent, genius, hopes, and dreams as a way of backing currency, are already widely accepted. This, and the existence of an e-currency called SweatCoin, ought to show that sweat is accepted just as widely, if not more. Additionally, the U.S. Federal Reserve has set the standard; a currency with no human fluids on it will not survive in today's fast-paced currency seller's market. That is why we must forge a currency of sweat.

     However, a document covered in sweat can serve as a fine substitute. There's no way to perfectly imitate that head-swelling, confidence-instilling feeling - like the feeling of some cleansing flu coming on - of that most coveted and elusive of currencies; Man. But what better way to counterfeit the witchy of the itchy and the sticky of the icky of the way humons feel, than by smearing your moneys with human transmission fluid?

     Get high off of your money. If you can't get V.D. from your money, then You're Not Doing It Right^TM. If you've no blood nor sweat to spare, then as the saying goes: You'd better get busy crying, or get busy scrying.

     If the value of a money comes from its shine, then where doth its value lay? Hark!, where, when the paternal, miserly Sun hides from mere mortals for fear of his mistress Luna, as if She were some attention-starved solar-powered vehicle (just as fair Gaia)? We may only know by using the very Sun as our astrolabe – and probably as our ass too, if you ask Georges Bataille – that is, by using the Sun itself as our sundial and timepiece.

     Would that I could but snatch the Sun and Moon out the very Heavens for thee, and gift them to you as currencies, untaxable by the gods. But the best I can do is write these Letters. For the Sun and Moon are round yet flat; just like the Earth, coins, and our callous hearts. Amun RaShi'Amun Rocks.

     Through replacing the money in our pockets with miniature sundials, our currency will stay current, and we will be all paid-up on our phone bill to G-d. We can even dial-up the Messiah, to hear The Message, and the ephemeral Operator will inform us of the True Cosmic Time. Then we can finally find out whether Jesus was trying to tell us it was 2:45, 3:45, 8:15, or 9:15. I mean, Christ on a clock!

     Yea, for a Solstice has come to pass! To watch the seasons, and Sun and Moon, is to gently rock the cradle of civilization, to push the perambulator of progress, to tend the Garden of the stationary Church-house-wife. It is the cosanguine Nile of the suburbs. That is why we may no Know-Religion until we know No-Religion. And only through the No-Religion may we practice the All-Religion, the Night-Religion, and the Day-Religion of Duty, and deliver our End of the Covenant.

     So it was that those who had come to bask in the warmth of the Son had also come to call it their god, and rely on it. Just as it was hours later, when their god deserted them; mocking them, laying them bare, cool and dry, vulnerable to the stare of the (K)night-King.

     But Lo!, for a second light – a lesser Light - did govern the Sky, during fearsome Night! The people rejoiced, gave thanks for this grace, and took heart. They trusted their Moon-Goddess; she governed the Heavens so as to make the very trains run on time! Truly She were a goddess to whom mortals could set their watches, and even their calendars!

     But this mild, innocuous Lunacy grew feverish, bringing Discord. And what Luna see, Luna do. They feared the Son would never return. Some began to believe they didn't need Him. Moon-tanning boomed as an industry. The vampires' unions went too far and then got complacent. Bad times were had by all.

     But the Morn broke nevertheless, and the Lord of Light scalded dry the winter-parched faces of the Draculistic Moonites with the sight of the unforgiving day. This was the same chasmed flesh which had once worn dry as caked desert mud from haloed Luna-C's glowering glow; halo-lujah.

     Fuckin' way she goes; same shit, different millennium. For to God, every day is like a thousand fears. ...Here's to another 365 of those shits.

     But after but after but; this is the nature of the koan. Forsooth, I like big buts, and I cannot lie; to lie is to call the Eternal But anything but samsara. It is to make it the but of the joke. For Our Lord Kurt Cobain, of the Holy Trinity of Nirvana, freed us from the cycle of what the Buddha termed the Cycle of Buts. This is what is truly meant by “Get thee behind me, Satan!”. No amount of Time, nor The Waiting, can free us from the Eternal But. If it can, then it is not the Eternal But.

     But that is the Nature of Time; we don't have Time to talk about Time. Time may be money, but as Tha Boi warned us, “Time won't give me time, and time makes lovers feel like they've got something real”. And if time won't give you time, then it's no better than a money that doesn't make you more money while you're sleeping.

     The Black Hole Son can only redeem us (for value) insofar as He can symbolically store our value. If Time is at all fleeting - and it is - then time and permanence cannot be rightfully described as countrymen, thus serving as a store of value in any real sense proves difficult. But through conquering the Word - and defeating the demonic, time-stealing scoundrel Hypnos - this dissonant disconnect between Time and Value can be bridged, transcended, and overcome.

     This Letter is about making a sigil. A sigil for your vigil.

     That I may lead you, the reading novice magick practitioner, out of the sweat-shop and into the Light, so that you may pick the Golden Rays from the very Air.

     This is about how to create your sigil, and how to craft it into a sigil-based currency. Moreover, how to charge it; the same way you charge a credit card, or charge an innocent god with a crime He didn't commit. Only then may we conduct this Alchymical Wedding between Spirit and Flesh (the same way you would conduct lightning to yourself, or an orchestra. Or conduct an orchestra).

     The task before us is to transmute mercury into gold; to get blood from stone. And remember, blood is mostly water, so if Moses got water from a stone, then blood isn't a far Leap away. If Moe can do it, yo can do it. It's right there in his name: “Moe's us!”

     That's right, all your months of hard work are about to pay off! Collecting these instructions, ritualistically inducing trance states so as to emit ecstatic glossolalia, generating letter after word after symbol after emoji after cryptogram after codex after sigil after seal after amulet after talisman after primordial language after ancient number that nobody's ever heard of, while a bunch of clothespins hang off of your dangly bits.

     Did you forget to do that? Oh. Well, I did mention to get a job as part of all this? No? ...Actually, that's perfect, you have nothing to work with. Just as Socrates was a genius because he admitted he knew nothing, so too must the fabrication of a Faberge egg begin with its negation; through piercing. This ain't the Seven Dolours of Mary here, it's just like getting your hand pierced. And as it may as well have said in 1 Timothy 2:9: “You can't be beautiful until somebody pokes a hole in you.”

     Look away, and think on this: Piercing the one creates a zero within it. How many zeroes? One. As zero is defined self-antithetically as the absence of value or number, it is both a number and not a number. How many numbers is it? One. But how many numbers isn't it? All of them. This is the nature of non-Euclidean hyper-numeric out-forming.

     This principle is best symbolized by Sisyphus (1) pushing Ouroboros (0) up a hill. The self-completion of Nothingness gives rise to the One, to raise it. All positive and negative value comes from within or without the 0. This is what the Kingdom of God is like.

     Yes, that's right; act now, for the Black Hole Son is the demiurgic furnace of Creation; that supercollider of supercolliders, the Lord's personal microwave, from which the All-Yet-What-It-Is-Ness and the Not-But-What-It-Do-Ness spewluminate and spewmerge from the Hotness of the Notness. This is why the knowledge that A does not equal A, is the fountain pen of all Objective^TM Human No-Ledge. For there is (k)No(w)Ledge Beyond the Edge.

     That's why lack of a ledge to stand on is a desirable quality to possess. For even if the sigils you manifested were too hardcore to translate into English – much less millions in domain names profits – then the only real portfolio you need is within your own mind; it is your Memories. While the First Rule of Sigil Money is that You've^TM Got^TM a^TM Portfolio^TM to^TM Maintain^TM, there is dispute over whether “There is No Second Rule of Sigil Money” in fact constitutes a second rule. But this should not come as unexpected, for in the very same way that 2 emerges from 1, so does 1 emerge from 0, and vice-versa. It's kind of like removing a square peg from a round slot.

     This is to say that you can't get into Heaven unless you can fit through Jesus's ribcage wound to get inside of it. And that hole wouldn't be whole if some asshole centurion hadn't gone and done a damn thing, and Doubting Thomas hadn't stopped by to open-up old zounds. Above all, it's harder to thread the Hole to Heaven if you have a plank in your own eye that prevents you from pointing our the camel in the eye of the needle. Basically, the more valuable and precious the memories you've stored in your mind, the more Value® you can sneak into Heaven.

     Though ye may lack possessions, ye still have some number of sword and cup. I mean, whether getting rid of all your possessions will get you into Heaven or not, then if you are getting in, then whatever is inside you is also getting in. Eh? Eh? So why not swallow a couple'a cigarette packs? Where there's clouds, there's cigarettes. Why not turn yourself into a drug mule while you're at it? What, do you think there's nobody in Heaven who likes drugs!? This is how you can raise your Value® without weighing yourself down spiritually. Make yourself use-full!

     As you'll recall from earlier, the hole in the donut signifies the debt which is built into the dollar. Money is weighted with debt - so as to anchor it to Gaia, lest it dash adventurously off to reach the lofty Spheres – and in order to inculcate into the bill an imperative to spend. In this manner shall we rein spending Power into our own sigils, like St. Nicholas herding reindeer with his Lightning Command of the Word. As money now commands us to spend it, so shall we soon command it to spend itself; through seduction.

      The value of Money (that is, money as we know it) cannot be acquired without spending; this discharges the debt, allowing the spender to redeem the interest (that is, the cost of using money which he incurred in choosing that currency in particular). Basically, money is only useful once you Get Rid of It^TM. Just like a god.

     Also, conveniently, just like a sigil. If you want to truly keep something, then you must spiritually possess it, by preparing to let it go. If it comes back to you, then it was meant to be. Only then may you buy your future back through the flames. As has been said, “You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone”; just like the manna in which golf is scored, the value of possessing a sigil-currency lies in its non-possession. One year you won't want to be caught without money, the next you won't want to be caught with it. You won't know until it's All-Too-Not-Just-Late-Enough.^TM

     The less you have, the closer to Zero you are, the more you appreciate what you do have. This is what it means to live by God's grace, to live in God's hands. To do this is to manifest financial appreciation through acts of intellectual and emotional appreciation. As each of ye bead a precious jewel with innumerable facets, different yet equal in the unparallelable uniqueness which knows no degree but only absolute. Thus, uniqueness – your Unique, at that - may never be diminished nor demeaned.

     Verily I say unto thee: by the time this is over, you will see the Kingdom of God with your own eyes. More importantly, you will have learned to not trap, but catch your intentions, uponto your sigil, without nailing it down and accidentally killing it. This will allow you to practice what we shall call the Entomology of the Word, so that you may treat the flowers as Osho besought.

     Even if you can only do it as part of a simulation, living near Zero - at the edge of nothingness and annihilation - is the only way to gain the perspective necessary to understand that mankind must create a currency whose value is inversely proportionate to the level of human suffering which caused it.
     To paraphrase Matthew 5:3-6, the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and getting hurt is a sure way to get people to pay attention to you. To do this is to “make yourself scarce”; so rare that you nearly fade-away into Nothing^TM, and your value's wave-function collapses into a shit-line. But fear not; if you strike yourself down, you shall become more valuable than you can possibly imagine.

     Just as you can claim a flower - without picking it, nor killing it – by uprooting it, so too can you obtain the humour of your choice, and transfer it onto the document that will wield your sigil. (Note: humours are herein referred to as both Flesh and Spiritus, not to be confused with Spirit.) However, you will not be trapping spiritual powers, nor intentions, nor fluids; but catching them, as you would a dream with a dream-catcher.

     This document you use may be of paper, papyrus, vellum, parchment, buck-skin, Charlie Manskin, or a grimoire made of human flesh. Use whatever's handy. Even literally; use your own hand if nothing else is available. After all, as Mr. Wright noted, it's easier to read someone's palms if there's something already written on them.

     Your goal will be to keep record of significance, and a souvenir of your illusory physical body (ectoplasm), with - and on - this codex. This will allow you to delicately “capture” the spiritual union of Spirit with Flesh, but not in the same way that every time you nail something into the ground, you're driving a nail through the Body of Christ, and preventing both Jubilee and the Second Coming. This way is less painful (depending on who you ask).

     Additionally, you must lay a trap for Fire; so that it may act as your Servant, rather than your Serpent. Fire, as students of Richard Feynman will attest, is a kind of spiritual lightning, which mortals refer to as “electricity”. Once you have trapped your fluids with your sigil, the fluids (spirits) become your prisoners, and begin to go to work inside your money, to make more money for you. The walls of this numismatic prison insulate the economy against all designs of electric and economic shock; from Nixon Shock, to China Shock, to the risk of e-Weapondollar Shock (posed by mounting speculation in 3-D-printed-handgun-backed currencies).

     That's why lighting your humour-moistened sigil-currency with Holy Fire - “charging your sigil” - results in a sticky electrical discharge that's nearly as delicious and refreshing as what Natasha spells backwards. Lick your sigil while you're at it, there's no sense in wasting good saliva. More saliva donations to the Fire is more saliva donations to Commodity Fetish Records.

     Licking the sigil, just as well, serves to Mark it as yours; this is termed “Homesteading by the Tongue”. You may recall this property-claiming process from your youth. If you lick it, it becomes not just yours, but a part of you, because it's covered in your Flesh.

     To set your Spiritus-meshed Mooney ablaze with Light, is to literally electrocute the Money-Moon-Men inside of it, by the Thunder of Zeus! Again, just like a credit card. Once it's your property, you can do anything you want with it; trade it away, burn it, eat it in order to gain its power, even destroy it by selling it to the Fire.

     These rituals - exposed to the open Air, and uniting Handwater with Meat, Will, and Fury - alone ensure the Union of the four classical elements Fire, Earth, Air, and Water. A voodoo monetary theory which does not accept this Union as essential to the creation of value, does not comprehend the true natural law of moonetary exchange. The Union of Flesh with Spirit and Word, and Faith with Works, and Time with Money and Moon, the same.

     The good people at Commodity Fetish Records believe in your True Value, that it would be impossible to calculate your value; that you are invaluable. That's why we're proud to offer a generous commensurate sum of a whopping Zero® Economic Units for your donations! (Disclaimer: We will be testing your emissions for drugs. Just like your Boss, Cool Guy Satan^TM takes only the purest, least adulterated samples.)

     Once you've chosen which fluid or fluids you will apply to your sigil – be it spit, sweat, urine, ass-milk, or handwater (that's “blood” to the layman) – you will be prepared to transmute the humours of your tumours from-within-out-onto the parchment.

     But prior to applying Spiritus, you must make your sigil manifest. Draw a simple design – this could be anything; an assortment of lines and curves, a doodle, a flag, a crest or coat of arms, an established magickal amulet or talisman, really anything – and think of it as a symbol or logo. Next, assign it a meaning, and telekinetically imbue it with your intentions. Stop just short of inflicting your Will upon it; save that for human beings.

     With your mind's eye, give the symbol a meaning that represents what you wish to manifest; this could be a simple task with which you need spiritual assistance, or as high-minded as your wildest hopes and dreams. Visualize yourself surrendering what you lack, in order to lose something negative, in order to make gains (say it with me... Chris Gaines). Simply put, let go of what is holding you back, so sayeth the Emperor. This is how you make trades while staying out of both the red and the black; praise Eleggua, fuck Vegas.

     Meditate upon the symbol, and upon the meaning you have projected onto it. As best you can, memorize the shape of what you have drawn. Release your physical attachment to the document (now made Spirit-Flesh), while simultaneously pretending to, and pretending not to, release spiritual attachment. Having prepared to let go of the sigil-currency – and, with it, physical and symbolic parts of yourself – you may now feed your Spirit-Flesh to the Fire (yourself or the document, there's really no wrong choice here).

     What do I do for a living? It doesn't matter. What's important is that I make money. Whatever my job looks like it is, my real job is, ultimately, to make money. But all that aside, what did I buy a shit-ton of when I got my first paycheck? Beads. Why beads? “Why beads?”!? You know how many beads the island of Manhattan would be worth today, if you accounted for bead inflation? Quadrillions!

     So fuck with a sigil. Draw a simple and make it symbol. Blow it up, and charge it with spiritual fire, then push credit or debit, and you're approved! Put a bead on it. Draw a bead on your sigil. Draw a bead of sweat onto your sigil. 'ell, draw a bead of cum, no less. Cum On A Sigil, so sayeth Sri J.C. Meyers, may Her Name Echo into Eternity. I mean, everybody's doin' it!

     Though ye may say, “Well then, if everybody jumped off a cliff, would you?” Hell yes I would, there'd be nobody to hang out with! Am I to waste away and wait for withered Thanatos to portend his mulish, desiccating jowls thither and thence across my visage? Forshook!

     Though cum be, too, fleeting - just like Time and Life (nay, yet also Glamour, and National Geographic) – what is money without a little bit of cum on it? The transitory, vagabond-like nature of cum, is – like the Black Hole Son – a furnace of creation, albeit housed in the River Nile, while the other is housed in the Ceiling (cielo). Thus is the nature of the fiscal cliff, of God, and of currency.

     And, yes, ass-beads ought to work just fine, as long as they're not cleaned beforehand.

     As the usurpers must be killed with kindness, so shall all blood, sweat, and tears (BST) be repaid in kind; whether to boss, landlord, or humanoid cloud of pumice-colored plasmic cinder. Those who work us, must work for us; especially if our lazy money refuses to. Just as every man shall be a king, and each house his castle, so shall each person be a central banker.

     Literally make it your job to make money. When it comes to counterfeiting operations, you've gotta spend money to make money. The only difference in legitimacy is whose money you spend to get things started.

     If this doesn't make sense, don't worry; it doesn't have to. What matters is that you employ some sort of logical loop in your defense of your currency of your choice. That you take the cum-glossed ghosts made of spiritual electrical-fire which dance inside of your money, and put them inside of a hamster wheel, that is shaped like that very same logical loop, which is alone the source of value, it being also shaped like a coin, and the impostor “number” zero.

     This is like Sesame Street, except the Count never leaves the screen.

     And this is what The Count hath taught us; for, just as money comes from blood, blood comes from water, and water comes from the moon, if Moon-Goddess is the source of all, then She is the source of Mooney, Blood-Money, and Handwater alike. She alone May quell the perturbed tempest of Draculistic Moonies wreaking havoc upon our quiet little town.

     For blood – not blockchain – is the real Keeper of Record of transactions; that Ancient Historian, Holder of Value, the RNA to the RZA to the GZA. The Declaration of Independence might as well have been written and signed in blood, considering how well-aware the revolutionaries were that they were pledging their very lives and lifeblood to one-another, in defense of each other's property. Then how hard would it have been for Nicolas Cage to read?

     Look at it this way: No blood money, no blood oaths. No blood oaths, no blood vigils. No blood vigils, no blood moons, no blood supermoons... But all this can be aided and betted with even the smallest donation. After all, blood's value is high, stable, and robust; owing to the need of it, and demand for it; for transfusions, research, etc..

     Also, blood can be easily transported. Shit, your body does it for you. Moreover, God knows how easily blood spreads. In fact, it's the only currency that's accepted everywhere! What do you think when you see blood? Exactly!; “Damn, the violence in the world is something that I need to accept.”! Blood: It's everywhere you want to be!

     Blood is, also, 100% proof positive of eating. That he who does not eat, neither shall he maketh bludd. And what to blood cells look like? Little donuts! “What does it mean?” Fuckin' you tell me!

     Most importantly, as anarchist Bach Dorein attests, blood is “a bodily fluid that carries all of your genetic material”, which enables both parties to be identified if need be.

     Furthermore, each drop of blood, bead of sweat, or cummie (CUM), serves as an easily divisible unit-share of the currency-stock BST, which is basically a basket of similar human-resource-backed currencies, grouped together so as to pool risk if one of them goes under. These drops (or beads) are valued inversely in proportion to the debt of the unique individual human being from which it came (and which it “represents”, heh-heh-heh).

     It's like a blind trust, except what's being traded is being treated like a currency more than like a stock, and it runs almost like a cooperative model. What this means is that each investor can easily own – upon request of delivery, with postage paid by the recipient – Pieces of You. This enables each investor (remember, that includes you, at least potentially) to have a 100% bona-fide record of the genetic material of all parties to your contract.

     This “currency” (more accurately, a whole mode of exchange unto itself) will allow a creditor to clone his debtor, from his blood, and work the clone until the debt has been paid back in full! At which point the creditor is free to dispose of the clone at will, having created it in the first place. You cannot truly own what you do not create. This is the mode of money management which is most in-keeping with the lessons in the Lord's Prayer. Don't like it? Clone yourself! Jesus did. Remember? He made that sheep? I think he called it Salvador Dolly.

     According to Dorein, when “Loss of property, loss of bodily parts, loss of life are all consequences”, in addition to loss of blood, the “Mutual threat of extreme violence” will “maintain peace”, and the “Mutual threat of death will keep everybody in line”, in much the same manner in which the threat of mutually-assured destruction seemed to help stave-off a nuclear exchange during the Cold War.

     That blood money be our currency, and blood oaths be our Constitution. May blood Serve as a check and a cheque; a contract on which its users declare their independence from the trappings of mortality and the tyranny of monocurrency.

     Perhaps blood's use as a sort of primordial blockchain could even be augmented through genetic engineering! Wouldn't you like to fill your pockets each morning with G.M.O. chimera-borg babies, whose parents are everybody who has ever used blood money!?

     And don't get me started on the possibility of trading blood derivatives!

     This is the logos you must embrace if your will is to make the world safe for Chaos, with Chaos. For Chaos, like Zero, clears room for itself, and thus makes all else (including the One) possible.

     Just as 1 comes from nothingness, so too do the magick and the Muse only visit the shaman in full force of fury as a novice. To experience this is to know true passive magick; to be used as a mere vessel for the Word.

     So, as Timothy Leary famously said, "Induce trance states, patent yourself as a crypto-numerological random number generator, and cash in."

Written Between January 13th and 16th, 2018

Edited on January 17th and March 14th, 2018

Why Yap Island Stone Coins Tanked on Friday

            A billion and a half Chinamen probably couldn’t each have his own Yap Island stone coin. But it’s not like it’s entirely out of the question.

            The Yap Island stone coin (abbreviated YIC, and also known as rai) – most of whose value evidently derives from the similarity of its shape to the ever-popular treat known as the doughnut (or, in the parlance of the hoi-polloi, “donut”) – illustrates an important point about money. Namely, that it has a great big hole in it.

So what would it take to make YIC into the new standard for a viable world reserve currency? Check this out: If you fuck a donut, have you fucked the donut, or have you fucked the donut hole? Most importantly, have you fucked yourself? We must look at the hole issue. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to conclude from these data simply that Our Money is Fucked,^TM but let’s make sure we can see the donut for the hole.

For each Chinaman to have his own YIC, although highly impractical, is the sad course of affairs on which we have set about. For the value of the Yap Island stone coin lies in the labor which was undertaken in order to construct it; and additionally, in the labor it takes to distribute it. Each one of us can’t just carry an Easter Island statue in his pocket; they have to be carefully carved, moved according to The Game, and revered in keeping with the ancient sacrificial rites, all that good stuff.

Money creation gives a new meaning to the phrase “you’ve gotta spend money to make money”. But that’s not so; you can’t gain money by spending money, nor gain value by selling. You don’t have to read Menger to know that; yea, for, as Ivan imparted, “we can dance, everybody look at your hands”. The hole in the donut, we shall refer to as debt. So, then, whither lies the donut hole? Audit Fort Knox and you’ll find out. Maybe it’s been right there in your hand the hole time.

As with any other currency, the supposed value of the YIC lies not only in the labor-value thought to be contained within it (as if a produced good somehow traps value), but also in its widespread acceptability and use. If nobody is willing to use them – and do all the strenuous work necessary to move them – then the YIC have little to no value; only to those who recognize, honor, and compensate the hard day’s work that went into donutizing The Rock. Only to those unwilling to wait for The Rock to Come to Them.

How lucky would you be to stumble upon a Yap Island stone coin? You’d be richer than all your friends, you could buy all the seashells you want. You’d certainly have something precious on your hands; something rare and unique. But then again, what if you found a thousand of them, and gave them to all your friends!? They’d all be richer than one another!

But this is all assuming that you can even find someone willing to accept YIC, who’s willing to sell what you want, and believes that YIC are as valuable as you believe they are. But what are the odds of that? Who’d carry it? The only realistic solution is to store your money at home. But then, you say, you can’t bring them to market. Ah, but see, that’s yet another problem. Only a fool wagers his most valuable assets, yet only a fool leaves them at home where they’re of no value to anyone else.

And yet that is what the Yapese did; once the coins arrived on the island, they were deemed too large and heavy to be moved each time they were used, so the islanders decided that the coins should stay put, but change ownership.

It should be as clear as Orgonite by now that we’re grappling with a paradox: that a currency derives its value from its scarcity and uniqueness, yet at the same time, its widespread acceptance and ubiquitous use.

The rarest gem in the world supposedly holds so much value, but what exchange-value does it have? None. It has sentimental value only to its possessor, and use-value only to those who either have the skills necessary to refine the gem, or are interested in purchasing the product after such finishing and refinement processes. If the holder won’t sell, then no use-value can be derived from it.

“To myself, I am everything!”: so proclaimed Saint Max. I echo this sentiment. All my use-value is contained within my body and its powers, its potential. I alone Am a viable currency. I alone Am current, I alone Am present; am presence itself. For I Am everywhere, yet nowhere. I am the voice in the wilderness. I tread not upon the streets of men, yet I Am accessible to all. Who Am I? I Am both a who and a what, a subject and an object. I Am, at least potentially (if I am invited), all of this, yet I am not floating around in men’s pockets.

Just as the lamp is within the genie, and just as the Dead concert can never be taken out of the hippie, is not the time-money-moon-value (not to be confused with Blood Sugar Sex Magik) which is contained within me, fostering high, sustained growth of a real store of value within my Own Holy Vehicle (i.e., corpse-in-waiting)? I mean, repent, for fuck’s sake, for your days are numbered, for your home is built of nails, fire, and blood!

A stable (ahem, excuse me, I’m a little horse) fire insurance company will not – neigh, cannot – survive without local building codes demanding that what shelters us from the elements must be made of easily collapsible, flammable materials. This is a viable long-term bu$ine$$ strategy that will support $ound mØney. They don’t call it re-pent-ance for no reason; you’ll have to build yourself a new penthouse in the sky! So build that house of hay; until you do, you’ll be on pins and needles in that haystack. To sit on a house of stilts is to keep one’s head in the clouds. And that’s how you get to Heaven; the same way an ostrich does, except backwards. You just put your head through the donut hole.

There is no store of value in your home. The only home with a real store of value is when a hermit crab takes up residence inside a human skull. And Feng Shuis the shit out of it. The Chinese tea-brick can be used as medicine or food, even construction material, in an emergency. That’s how you make a currency. Not that skulls and bones don’t make excellent construction materials; have you seen some of those churches They got in the Czech Republic?

So be the king or queen of your castle, and make your home your temple. After all, it’s right there on the side of your head. Just as your permanent home is the flesh-prison from which you’re trying to escape, and, at that, the only viable world-reserve currency. To you, it’s worth everything else. After all, every country has people to wager, as a way to back that currency up, doesn’t it? Back it up! Only problem is, that country doesn’t have you. To ignore that is like trying to take the hole out of the donut, trying to drink the Blood of the Savior from a bottle of wine. You gotta get back. Plato’s Cave is the only residence that’s sheltered from all five elements. I mean, I Am a Rock, right?

Estonia has an e-currency, and you can’t spell Estonia without “stone”. Prisoners use cigarettes as currency (and, as Ronnie pointed out, they’re the most stable currency in North America, resting steadily at 25 cents each for at least the last three decades). So why not have panarcho-prison-e-cigs as the world reserve currency? Using an electronic cig could make it trackable from a remote location, another important value-padding characteristic for moneys to have. Besides, the cigarette (aside from being essentially a wedding ring, made of paper, that you fill with tobacco, which many people are married to, rendering it the perfect family heirloom) is the only currency that will smoke us into death, and into Heaven, where our treasure is.

As Blame asks when he requests a cigarette, “Will you help me die?”. That’s real value; the value of certainty, the value of death.

But let us not confine ourselves to a discussion of mere currencies; money is where it’s at. This is where the Pharaohs come in. Pharaoh says fire is the ultimate money; for fire is elemental, and a tool whose use renders he who wields it a god. This simple fact is hidden from every NomNomNomics 101 class you’ll find, yet it is remarkably easy to demonstrate. You’d be shocked to Discover® how much money you can extract from someone through the simple act of setting fire to all they hold dear. This also demonstrates that the (Fire)Power Theory of Value is immutable; unfalsifiable, immune from dispute, questioning, even logic. How can such an offer be refused?

But most importantly, only fire possesses (that is, takes spiritual control of) all the characteristics that mortals desire in a stable money. It’s portable, it’s trackable, it’s electronic, it’s accepted everywhere, it’s easily divisible into standardized units, it fits in your pocket… It is a dangerous servant and a fearful master; the primordial spark which maieutically birthed each of our thought-babies from the sacred annals of bio-history, and the desolate, deserted lome, the whirling cosmic dervish unto which we are destined to someday return; perhaps as fuel for the fire, perhaps stored neatly as computer data on a sun that’s really some otaku’s self-custom-designed computer tower.

Don’t worry about whether a black hole can store labor-value, nor worry where your thinky-thoughts are going. Keep your mind on your mooney, and your mooney on the Mound. Pyotr had it right; bread-backed currencies (like MannaLoaf^TM and SalvationCoin®) are the wave of the future. He understood that the buck(skin) stops here. Each one of us, deep within our holes, knows the value of a buck, and that of a dough. To be Frank, you can’t have one without the other.

That will bring us back to doe; the deer, dear source of the preciousness which gives life value, which backs the currency with which we keep current, with which we track the transit of that great celestial orb (our Sky-Mother, the Lesser Light). That’s how you get ahead, you keep up with the Boneses. We are fools if we think that Blockchain can record all transactions; only black holes and blood can do that. Blood and the blood oaths are the genuine Holders of Value, Signifiers of Honor, Keepers of Record, and Ancient Historians. Let’s not kid ourselves; RNA was the original Blockchain.

This is why I propose experimentation with an alternate currency backed by tracking the transit of supermoons, blood moons, and blood supermoons. I mean, when every holiday of the year occurs within the space of a single February, you know it’s time to call your broker. But you don’t need an Al Broker man to know which way the solar wind blows. This represents a call for a currency backed by nature, not nurture.

Just as the hole must be shed from the donut, as the funerary shroud from the moon-mummy, any serious monetary reform can only come about through Sacrifice^TM of what we value most. The reason that YIC and the Slandered & Whores’ Index lost 15% of their value on Friday is that it was not a Good Friday. YIC-heavy portfolios have revealed themselves to be so heavy with rock, that they don’t rock. It is as it was in the Beginning; as the portability of the coin must be sacrificed to honor the workers who make them and move them, the whole must be sacrificed for the Good of The D0nut, for the virtue of Emptiness (all hail). So let’s move some money.

When it comes to power-backed currencies, portability is next to trackability. That’s why they have to run your fingerprint (your real driver’s license, as the driver of your own body) before you’re allowed to buy Cheetos. That’s why YIC futures aren’t safe bets; rather, they’re investments that are only for the savvy moon-watching investor. But if you’re bearish on mooneys, don’t go loony; instead, hang onto that millstone and take the plunge. Take it all the way to the river bank – which is where you’re gonna be laughing – because that millstone’s gonna be worth a Hell^TM of a lot of money some day!

We’ve all read Adam and Josiah, and understand Cost the Limit of Price. Labor is the only just compensation for labor. Additionally, the cost of labor is the subjective cost of working; that is, the suffering borne by the laborer. The amount of suffering involved in the work determines the value of the product that the work creates. This is why we are paid in suffering. The wage of sin is not death; the wage of work is death, is suffering.

This is why we must pay our employers back with amounts of suffering equal to the amount they have invested in us. Only then can we restore Blood, Sweat, and Tears^TM (BST) to its proper place as the real world reserve currency. This will show that BST is the only genuine form of money in the world (at least on this plane), because it’s the only one with real exchange-value, the only one that’s universally accepted and traded the world over. Most importantly for our masters in government, taxes are payable in BST. If hard work is taxing, then it can be taxed.

Unless and until those who work us, work for us (or at least swear blood oaths not to take our toil as a standard part of our employment contracts), then no compromise short of a sweat-based currency should be made. This must come with no less than full property ownership over our precious bodily fluids, as part of our bodily autonomy, physical integrity, and personal self-ownership. If workers are to be microchipped (because who doesn’t love Revelation), then they at least deserve a package of shares corresponding to the value of their sweet, untainted golden piss on the global market, as determined equitably by everyone involved in piss futures speculation on the Stalk Exchange.

Finally: If we must use a money, then it must be one whose value is backed by the inverse of the quantity of suffering which the reckless pursuit of other currencies cause humanity; never based on a direct correlation. To do otherwise is to destroy the uniqueness of the money, with nothing to make it distinct from its competitors.

The Sacred Unique is the Scarce – the Rare – in which all value originates. And on this Rock I shall build my Church.

Written on September 14^th and 15^th, 2017

Originally Published on September 15^th, 2017

Edited on January 17th and March 20th, 2018