My visit to Berlin in 2023 as documented on Nov 21, 2024
Rocking the Financial World with Bitcoin and Boulders
As I strolled through the bustling streets of New York City in this intriguingly altered timeline, I couldn't help but marvel at the bizarre blend of ancient and modern that characterized the skyline. Here, monumental arrangements of boulders dominate the landscape—part impenetrable fort, part modern art installation, and entirely unexpected.
The trend of using stones as a medium for expression first captured the collective imagination more than a decade ago, only to spiral into today's full-blown "Rock Renaissance." It seems that while the rest of the world busied itself with digital innovations, this timeline gravitated, quite literally, towards the heavy permanence of massive rocks. In a wonderfully ironic twist, people have now fused these ancient remnants with the cutting-edge technology of cryptocurrencies, engraving cryptographic keys onto stone surfaces, proving once again that humanity's penchant for absurdity knows no bounds.
During my meanderings, I engaged in rather curious conversations with locals who seemed perplexingly unperturbed by their environment. I was approached by a gentleman clad in a suit that could only be described as a crossover between a medieval knight's armor and Silicon Valley chic. He introduced himself as Gregory, a "Crypto-Geologist"—apparently a sought-after profession here. Gregory explained, with great enthusiasm, how each stone's unique geological patterns enhanced the security of its bitcoin imprint, making them both art objects and financial instruments.
"This one here is a real stone's throw from art. It's a masterpiece!"
We stopped by a towering granite monolith near what used to be Grand Central Terminal. Its intricately chiseled surface glimmered with what seemed like hieroglyphics but were in fact bitcoin addresses. Gregory, seemingly noticing my growing confusion, chuckled and said, "This one here is a real stone's throw from art. It's a masterpiece!" I couldn't help but smile at the pun, though it made me think of our own timeline's obsession with invisible, virtual assets.
Shopping turned out to be a droll affair. I ventured into a "Rocksmithery Boutique," a place where fashion was quite literally set in stone. The resident designer, a spirited woman named Alana, was fitting a client with a necklace that resembled a string of miniature Stonehenges. She expounded, with expressive flourish, about how the stones were curated for their vibrational harmony, perfectly complementing one's digital wealth. She persuaded me to try on a "Crypto Choker" and to my surprise, my reflection screamed avant-garde museum piece rather than playful jest.
Later, my venture into the financial district revealed a scene reminiscent of ancient ritualistic gatherings. Brokers, mingling among sandstone pillars, gestured passionately in a manner resembling a sacred dance, albeit one blessed by Wi-Fi and smartphones. At one point, I found myself queuing behind investment bankers busy knapping small boulders for flair—turns out "Rocksmishing" is not only a professional skill but a spectator sport during lunch breaks.
A quick grab of street food led me to yet another culture shock as my falafel wrap protector—a street vendor named Max—handed me my change in the form of a tiny, inscribed pebble. "Matters more in the long run," he quipped, tapping his head knowingly. I stood there, holding this odd currency, aware that in this timeline, monetary change had transcended into tactile tokens.
Even the museums have caught up with the rock and roll spirit. I spent an intriguing afternoon at MoSton, The Museum of Stone Art, witnessing slabs from history reimagined through the modern crypto lens. As part of my peculiar educational experience, I participated in a "Stone Whispering" session where enthusiasts gathered to guess at the monetary value encoded in granite veins, a pastime more engaging than the cruel tick of stock exchange walls.
I return for the evening, snuggled into the welcoming confines of my abode, a portable time capsule, processing the day's surreal experiences. Musing on the divisions between our worlds, I couldn’t help but laugh at humanity's fascinating knack for metamorphosing that which seems immutable into inventive eccentricity.
And now, with my bemused soul slightly weathered but eager for my next foray, I prepare to relax amidst the familiar strains of music. I've been gifted a peculiar rock—it doubles as a Bluetooth speaker. Only a testament that even across timelines, some rituals like music, much like stones, remain timeless. Ah, just another perfectly peculiar day.