DISCLOSURE EYES 👀
By: Brother Nomad, Eternal Wanderer & Amateur Economic Theologian
Entry #1: The Day I Accidentally Started a Currency War in Corinth
Let me tell you, friends, there’s nothing like trying to explain cryptocurrency to a 1st-century fishmonger. I’d been in Corinth three days (lovely olive oil, terrible Wi-Fi) when Lydia—the tentmaker with a side hustle in purple dye NFTs—asked me: “Brother Nomad, why do we need Caesar’s coins when we have love?”
I choked on my fig. She’d nailed it.
Back then, coins bore Caesar’s face and the words “Divine Son.” Today? Your SSN follows you like a hungry seagull. I’ve seen marks come and go—Roman charagmas, guild tattoos, even that unfortunate trend of branding heretics with yodeling marmots in 12th-century Bavaria. But this modern “beast system”? It’s sneakier. You don’t worship it; you just… can’t get a Costco membership without it.
(Side note: If you think Revelation 13 is spicy, try explaining bulk toilet paper purchases to John of Patmos. Man would’ve added a fourth horseman: “Discount Bulk Shopping.”)
Entry #12: My AirBnB Host in Babylon (Nevada) Tried to Scan My Forehead
Last week, I stayed in a “Freedom City” prototype outside Reno. The brochure promised “liberty, flying cars, and artisanal deregulated kombucha.” Instead, I got a yurt, a crypto miner named Chad, and a biometric scanner that mistook my beard for a QR code.
Chad lectured me for hours: “Bro, we’re building paradise! No taxes, no rules—just innovation!” I nodded, thinking of Nero’s identical pitch circa 64 A.D. (“Come for the fiddle lessons, stay for the arson!”).
These “Freedom Cities” remind me of old monastic communes—except instead of vows of poverty, they’ve got venture capital. I half-expected Saint Francis to stroll in shouting, “Sell your Tesla and feed the blockchain!”
Entry #23: Why I Opened a Bank Account in Cana (and How It Went Viral)
Remember the wedding at Cana? Turns out, the real miracle was the catering budget. Last month, I helped the local vineyard start a “water-into-wine” mutual aid fund. Members earn “Grace Tokens” for sharing harvests or fixing roofs. No SSNs, no 666 spreadsheets—just neighbors trading figs and forgiveness.
Of course, the Pharisees’ Yelp review was brutal: “1 star. Where’s the interest??”
But here’s the thing: When your currency is baked into who you are instead of what you own, even tax collectors get creative. (Shoutout to Zacchaeus 2.0, who now runs a thriving goat co-op.)
Entry #45: That Time I Got Stuck in a Reddit Thread About the Mark of Cain
Look, I don’t do TikTok. But apparently, there’s a conspiracy that I—a humble, totally-mortal blogger—am actually Cain, cursed to walk the earth promoting credit unions.
Okay, fine. Let’s address the elephant in the desert:
- Q: “Brother Nomad, why do you look 33 in every profile pic since the Byzantine era?”
- A: Good lighting. Also, aloe vera.
- Q: “Is it true you ‘woke the dead’ by reviving Detroit’s community gardens?”
- A: No. That was composting. Highly recommend.
But sure, let’s say I’ve got… experience with marks. The original Cain story was about isolation—a man severed from his community. Today’s marks? Same song, different verse. Whether it’s a barcode, a blockchain, or a Starbucks app that knows your latte sin, they all whisper: “You’re alone unless you belong to us.”
Joke’s on them. I’ve got a 2,000-year-old group chat with Martha’s casserole recipes.
Final Entry: How to Build a Nation Without Losing Your Soul (or Your Car Keys)
Three things I’ve learned wandering this carnival of empires:
- Every “beast system” starts as a shortcut. Rome’s roads? Genius. Rome’s roads demanding tribute in selfies with Caesar? Less genius.
- The best currency is a story. Fish and loaves > Bitcoin. Fight me.
- Immortality’s overrated. Trust me. What matters is waking the dead ideas—kindness, kinship, and the radical notion that you’re worth more than your credit score.
So build your “Freedom Cities.” Mint your memecoins. But if you see a dusty guy at the edge of town quoting Ecclesiastes into a latte art foam…
Say hi.
I’ll be the one with the aloe vera.
Epilogue: Comments disabled. (The Sanhedrin’s trolls are relentless.)
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