Unlimited block size.
Imagine if Bitcoin had an unlimited block size. Think about it—a world where you could move a fraction of a fraction of a penny from Tokyo to Timbuktu, faster than you could blink, and no one’s taking a cut.
Not a banker, not a middleman, not a bureaucrat sitting on his ass in a suit.
Just a network, running clean, honest, like it was meant to.
Transactions flowing like water, as easy as passing a note across a bar.
A system that doesn’t care who you are, where you’re from, what your story is, just that you want to trade, to buy, to sell.
A system where the only thing that matters is what you’re putting on the table.
And think about what that would mean to the ones sitting in the towers, the ones running the show—the governments, the central banks, the regulators.
It’d drive them mad.
Because suddenly, you’ve got a world where people don’t need their middlemen, don’t need their permission slips or their currency controls.
You’ve got a world where money moves without borders, where a kid in Kenya can trade with a guy in Kansas like they’re neighbors, where nobody gives a damn about the old lines on the map.
They’d hate it, of course. They would hate the person who creates such a system even more.
They’d want to keep it small, want to keep it manageable, want to pretend that the game hasn’t changed.
They’d want to stop this thing, cripple it, slap it with regulations, choke it with limits.
Because an unlimited block size, a system where transactions cost a thousandth of a cent?
It’s too honest for their liking.
It’d shine a light on all their little games, all their deals made in smoke-filled rooms.
It’d make them nervous because it cuts out the fat, gets rid of all the unnecessary bullshit. It makes them realize that they’re not as essential as they thought they were.
And sure, maybe it wouldn’t stop every little crime—there’s always someone looking to cut corners.
But the big ones?
The ones that happen behind closed doors, with handshakes and promises and fat envelopes passed under tables?
Those would start drying up. The cash moving through this system wouldn’t care about their rules, wouldn’t stop to ask for permission.
It’d just flow, like a river that suddenly decides to change course, tearing down the dam they built to keep it in check.
Imagine the panic, the desperation.
They’d call it dangerous, unstable, a threat to the system.
They’d paint it as something wild, something to be feared. But really, they’d just be afraid of losing control. Afraid that people might start to realize they don’t need the middlemen, don’t need the gatekeepers. That they could trade, build, create, all on their own. And that thought—that little spark of freedom—would scare the hell out of them.
And that’s exactly why they’d hate the creator—why they’d want to stop him, crush him, bury him so deep that no one remembers his name.
Because he built something that didn’t ask for their permission, something that threatened to break their grip, something that could make their old rules and their cushy systems irrelevant.
It’s why they can’t stand the idea of a world where their hands aren’t in every pocket, where people can move their money without the heavy shadow of the banks and the state looming over every transaction. That’s why we’ve got BTC now—because they needed a version they could control, one that kept the game manageable, kept the power in their hands.
But it’s all just a shadow of what it could’ve been, a neutered version to keep the real threat out of sight, to make sure that freedom never really gets out of their grasp.
When you understand this...
you can start to understand bitcoin...
S. Tominaga AKA CSW
Oct 8, 2024
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1843549272782106992?t=7KmVhdTqrPJQaQ_wG3G5yA&s=19
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/1147
Imagine if Bitcoin had an unlimited block size. Think about it—a world where you could move a fraction of a fraction of a penny from Tokyo to Timbuktu, faster than you could blink, and no one’s taking a cut.
Not a banker, not a middleman, not a bureaucrat sitting on his ass in a suit.
Just a network, running clean, honest, like it was meant to.
Transactions flowing like water, as easy as passing a note across a bar.
A system that doesn’t care who you are, where you’re from, what your story is, just that you want to trade, to buy, to sell.
A system where the only thing that matters is what you’re putting on the table.
And think about what that would mean to the ones sitting in the towers, the ones running the show—the governments, the central banks, the regulators.
It’d drive them mad.
Because suddenly, you’ve got a world where people don’t need their middlemen, don’t need their permission slips or their currency controls.
You’ve got a world where money moves without borders, where a kid in Kenya can trade with a guy in Kansas like they’re neighbors, where nobody gives a damn about the old lines on the map.
They’d hate it, of course. They would hate the person who creates such a system even more.
They’d want to keep it small, want to keep it manageable, want to pretend that the game hasn’t changed.
They’d want to stop this thing, cripple it, slap it with regulations, choke it with limits.
Because an unlimited block size, a system where transactions cost a thousandth of a cent?
It’s too honest for their liking.
It’d shine a light on all their little games, all their deals made in smoke-filled rooms.
It’d make them nervous because it cuts out the fat, gets rid of all the unnecessary bullshit. It makes them realize that they’re not as essential as they thought they were.
And sure, maybe it wouldn’t stop every little crime—there’s always someone looking to cut corners.
But the big ones?
The ones that happen behind closed doors, with handshakes and promises and fat envelopes passed under tables?
Those would start drying up. The cash moving through this system wouldn’t care about their rules, wouldn’t stop to ask for permission.
It’d just flow, like a river that suddenly decides to change course, tearing down the dam they built to keep it in check.
Imagine the panic, the desperation.
They’d call it dangerous, unstable, a threat to the system.
They’d paint it as something wild, something to be feared. But really, they’d just be afraid of losing control. Afraid that people might start to realize they don’t need the middlemen, don’t need the gatekeepers. That they could trade, build, create, all on their own. And that thought—that little spark of freedom—would scare the hell out of them.
And that’s exactly why they’d hate the creator—why they’d want to stop him, crush him, bury him so deep that no one remembers his name.
Because he built something that didn’t ask for their permission, something that threatened to break their grip, something that could make their old rules and their cushy systems irrelevant.
It’s why they can’t stand the idea of a world where their hands aren’t in every pocket, where people can move their money without the heavy shadow of the banks and the state looming over every transaction. That’s why we’ve got BTC now—because they needed a version they could control, one that kept the game manageable, kept the power in their hands.
But it’s all just a shadow of what it could’ve been, a neutered version to keep the real threat out of sight, to make sure that freedom never really gets out of their grasp.
When you understand this...
you can start to understand bitcoin...
S. Tominaga AKA CSW
Oct 8, 2024
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1843549272782106992?t=7KmVhdTqrPJQaQ_wG3G5yA&s=19
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/1147
Comments
Be the first to add a comment
Log in to comment