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Why do we like blowing bubbles?
(This is not a bitcoin thread, go away)
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(This is not a bitcoin thread, go away)
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So I'm not a “neurotypical” (a fact discovered late in life) and while we won't go into the details here, the net output of that fact appears to be that I'm wired to take a more… ‘zoological’ approach to understanding humanity.
Hence the quirky Animal Planet threads.
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Hence the quirky Animal Planet threads.
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The distance afforded by non-participation in certain things (the weakness) also occasionally lends itself to a bit more subtlety with pattern detection (the strength).
And so I started painting a picture about bubbles.
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And so I started painting a picture about bubbles.
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And in my mind’s eye there formed a cluster of ladybugs. They were happy, far from from eating aphids, and content on their beautiful tree.
And then one started flapping.
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And then one started flapping.
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At first the other ladybugs ignored it, but after a time its persistence was intoxicating.
And so a few more flapped.
And as is the way with exercise, certain endorphins were released
And it felt good to flap.
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And so a few more flapped.
And as is the way with exercise, certain endorphins were released
And it felt good to flap.
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And before long the tree was like the ladybug equivalent of CrossFit: everyone was doing it and getting hella jacked.
The tree was abuzz, and the energy was bright and intoxicating.
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The tree was abuzz, and the energy was bright and intoxicating.
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But a few ladybugs didn't flap. They didn't like this new thing because they didn't understand it - the flapping had no logic.
But the flapping wasn't about logic, it was about feeling good.
So the non-flappers were wrong, in a way.
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But the flapping wasn't about logic, it was about feeling good.
So the non-flappers were wrong, in a way.
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For some time things continued this way, and much joy was produced by the flapping.
Except for the non-flappers, who still just ate their aphids and did their non-flappy things.
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Except for the non-flappers, who still just ate their aphids and did their non-flappy things.
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And then autumn came, and with it a beautiful crispness.
But the aphids were less plentiful.
And so the flapping began to feel less good, for there was less fuel for it.
And the buzzing dimmed.
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But the aphids were less plentiful.
And so the flapping began to feel less good, for there was less fuel for it.
And the buzzing dimmed.
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And before long the ladybugs, more focused on sustenance, had ceased flapping altogether.
While most of the ladybugs rushes around in a provisioning frenzy, the non-flappers were calm, still fat with their stored energy.
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While most of the ladybugs rushes around in a provisioning frenzy, the non-flappers were calm, still fat with their stored energy.
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And as these things go, the non-flappers declared that they had been right all along.
Clearly non-flapping had been the prudent, safer play.
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Clearly non-flapping had been the prudent, safer play.
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But were they right?
Foe they also had missed out on the beautiful euphoria of the flap, stoically sacrificing it for a calmer, more serene experience over time.
Perhaps in the end such things are a matter of appetite.
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Foe they also had missed out on the beautiful euphoria of the flap, stoically sacrificing it for a calmer, more serene experience over time.
Perhaps in the end such things are a matter of appetite.
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And that's what makes a market.
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Oh hey - we're gonna talk about bubbles and such on @RealVision soon!
Stay tuned; some fun stuff lined up.
Stay tuned; some fun stuff lined up.
