...there was a Mr. Possum that scavenged the land for food. It did so 8 hours a day and the rewards where petty. One day, he heard a tale about a magical place where there was a special kind of food. Sugary, high caloric and with relatively easy access. No hunting or scavenging skills needed.
All Mr. Possum had to do was to follow his friend's instructions and get those sweet pastries. He climbed the vent, got into the pastry shop, dag a hole into one of the pastry boxes voila. He couldn't believe it. It was even better than he originally thought. His feast was no short of epic. The joy couldn't be contained. He was eating in one go more than it ate its entire life. And he kept eating, more and more. Nobody could take this away from him. This was the future. No more scavenging.
While Mr. Possum was eating he felt sorry for his cowardly friends that didn't take the risk to get into the pastry shop. Now he could grow strong and control the territory while the other pleb possums would be weak and awry licking off the bottom of cans and killing each other over scrabs. It was a shit world out there. With this new food though he grew more proud, more arrogant. Anything seemed possible.
Mr. Possum also had the epiphany to even take some of it along with him so he could lace his territory to attract more weaklings and mates around him. But not now. Now he had to eat. More and more. So many boxes, so many flavors. He had to have them all. It ate all night non-stop.
Mr. Possum's friend was heard from a distance trying to warn him several times to leave early once his hunger was quenched. But he couldn't listen. In his mind, his friend was a coward that couldn't appreciate the true value of these sugary delicacies. His friend couldn't see the future as his eyes have witnessed.
Before passing out, he faintly remembers trying to get out at some point but the hole was too small and he couldn't fit in anyways. He had no idea how to open the pastry box, since it had never been into one. So it stayed there, holding all his pastries that he couldn't possibly eat.
As it woke up next morning by the blinding fluorescent light, several thoughts passed through its dizzy head. "How have I ended up here? Why I became so greedy? I could have just left with some pastries and come back for more a few times. I could be set for life if I stored these".
. . .
Humans are no different than other animals. We like to evaluate ourselves by our own metrics such as I.Q. but in reality intelligence is nothing more than a test developed 100 years ago. A test aiming to evaluate menial job competency such as repetitive tasks.
We like to believe we are more "evolved" than possums, but in reality the same reptilian cortex resides within us as much as it resides within these naive looking animals. Sophisticated crypto investors, people with degrees and perhaps high I.Qs got massacred in much the same way as Mr. Possum in the picture above. And we laugh because this silly animal couldn't see through his small greedy venture. Don't worry. Isaac Newton lost his fortune during the tulip mania as well.
No matter how many times we see nature proving us wrong by the simplest lessons, we have some kind of stubbornness that keeps us making the same mistakes over and over again. Much like a cat who has seen friends and family massacred while crossing the street, it can't help itself but also attempt the feat. It still doesn't have skin in the game unless it does so.
Humans like to believe that they have control over their actions. Most advocate free will in order to incite the belief and empower themselves. All they do is become more stupid much like a naive cat or a naive possum. We are not in control just because we can think or observe things that have a teleological story. A cat will be scared of something that has happened to it directly. It will develop a phobia, a mechanism that shields it from similar future incidents. That's what creates insights, not control.
Most cryptocurrency investors have never invested in traditional markets, never bothered to learn basic economics, read or even have the general knowledge required to navigate such complicate emotions. They never had a business or had to deal with the real world in a serious way. All they had as a weapon was basic intelligence to follow instructions, connect lines with shapes and copy paste magical numbers into boxes. More or less, what once could train a bonobo monkey to do in less than 6 months.
But the arrogance. Oh the arrogance... was too damn much because as silly bipedal primates we like to equate success with money. Worse, success with intelligence. And if we se that we are becoming rich and successful it means that we are also smart and nothing can stop u. Riiiight?
What is valuable in rational matters is not knowledge or intelligence. What is most important for humans as it is for Mr. Possum is skin in the game. Personal experience. Insights. Very few have survived this crypto game long enough and those who remain are the most valuable commodity. Even if you manage to keep them around for guidance, you still need to get burned in order to understand the concept of fire.
So since you have popped your first major cherry in the bag-holding business, let these lessons settle in. Write them down if you must. In all likelihood, you will be one of the average bag-holders that will forget the lessons learned once the next cycle begins. Remember. You are no different than a FOMOing possum into a new box of delicious pastries.
