The Fiat Flu: Humanity's Longest-Running Pandemic

There’s a virus out there that’s infected the entire globe. Not the kind that shuts down cities or fills hospital beds, but one that's been quietly eating away at our wealth, our trust, and our future for over a century. It doesn’t need a host to spread—it only needs belief. Blind, unquestioned belief. Its name? Fiat currency.

Most people don’t realize they’ve been infected. That’s the genius of it. The symptoms are subtle at first—rising prices here, a shrinking paycheck there. You work harder, but it feels like you’re running in place. Your grandparents could afford a home on one income. You? You’re splitting rent with three roommates and wondering if you’ll ever retire. That’s not just “how the world works.” That’s the fiat flu at work.

Unlike gold, which has weight, or Bitcoin, which has mathematical scarcity, fiat money is conjured out of thin air by governments and central banks. Its only foundation is trust—trust that the issuer won’t abuse the printer. And yet, abuse it they do. Over and over. Every crisis becomes an excuse to inject more fiat into the system. Stimulus checks, bailouts, quantitative easing—it all sounds helpful on the surface, but underneath? It’s dilution. Your time and energy are being devalued.

This isn’t economics—it’s alchemy gone wrong. We’ve been taught that a little inflation is good, like a warm fever burning off the bad. But year after year, the fever never breaks. Instead, it gets worse. The rich get richer—not because they’re smarter or work harder—but because they’re closer to the money spigot. They own assets that rise in value as the currency sinks. Meanwhile, the rest of us are just trying to keep our heads above water.

Bitcoin is the antidote. It emerged during the wreckage of the 2008 financial crisis—a protocol born from the ashes of broken trust. It doesn't ask for your belief. It doesn’t require a central authority. It simply is. Immutable. Transparent. Finite. Bitcoin isn’t just a new form of money. It’s a declaration of independence. A refusal to participate in a rigged game.

When you start to understand Bitcoin, it feels like waking up from a long fever dream. Suddenly, everything makes sense—the housing crisis, the student debt bubble, the relentless hamster wheel of consumerism. You see the system for what it is: a virus that keeps you just sick enough to stay dependent, but never well enough to escape.

And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

You start stacking sats. You learn about self-custody. You teach others. You become part of the immune response. One by one, people are waking up, reaching for something real. Not just digital cash, but digital truth.

The fiat flu is still spreading. But now, there’s a cure. You don’t need a prescription. You just need to take the red pill, open your eyes, and stop playing by the old rules.

Tick tock, next block.