@PaulCzege

As I was reading it, my heart inched its way higher and higher through my body until I hiccuped it out on the floor.

I hate it. I stomp on it. It's like so much red egg yolk.

It makes me want to quit painting.

He listed it on a proof-of-work network. He has sold four so far. Those transactions have each used as much energy as a typical EU household does in a month. He has made bank on these filthy, anthracite-powered bonegrinders. The floor price for one transaction is more money than I've ever made in a year.

In addition to making his own pockets heavy as he sinks deeper and deeper under the rapid rivers of shame, he's putting gas fee money straight into the hands of other plundering scammers, the ones operating the festering mirelands of OpenSea, Polygon, and Ethereum.

Training up an AI model just to throw it away is also selfless and reckless. I'm not sure for certain, but I've gotten the impression that using neural network AI apps is fine (I'm just pretty sick of it and have gone on an unfollowing/muting spree as D&D people on here started posting more and more Midjourney hellscapes) but making the models is very costly in terms of Earth's resources.

This guy is… he's unwilling to let go of the dream that "maybe NFTs do work and I'll make money!" while "ironically" whistling all the ways to the bank with all his "alternative" ways to support where he's essentially holding the world hostage. "I'll unlist one NFT for every–"

NFTs have exposed the worm-infested underbelly of the high art world.

I'm hesitating on whether to hit "submit" on this post. I normally try to limit my attacks to institutions, not specific individual people.

And I guess the real target of my wrath is NFTs and crypto, for corrupting this guy, melting the wax on his wings, and making him plummet into the darkest pits of hypocrisy. I cast curses, hexes, and spells on every dime making them white hot burning holes in his hands. Svartsippa, Månvända, Ormens bär! Luxor, Nexor, Burst and Burn! Squa tront! Spa fon! Ewige blumenkraft!

I'm panicking over how to make rent without staining my soul with sulphorous filth like this.

But as for me, my feet were almost gone; my steps had well-nigh slipped. For I was envious at the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For there are no pangs in their death, but their strength is firm.

They are not in the trouble of birds; neither are they plagued like other birds. Therefore pride is as a chain about their neck; violence covers them as a garment.