Been hooked on Octopath Traveler for days on my Switch. Gorgeous retro pixel graphics plus amazing background music. Each of the eight protagonists has a unique story, old-school turn-based fighting is super addictive.

GPU-Backed Debt and the case for the End of SaaS Credit Shoal Signal Ep. 7 with @0xZergs, co-founder/CEO of @USDai_Official, hosted by @zaddycoin AI compute is being built faster than the financial system can finance it. Chips refresh every 24 months, and the debt that funds houses and planes needs decades of data and years to structure. David walks through why he thinks most of DeFi is money lending against money, and not real credit. 0:00 From art financing to GPU credit 2:18 DeFi is money market, not capital 3:13 Why CoreWeave bonds are not ABS 5:25 Convertible debt and the miner playbook 6:31 What securitization actually needs 9:03 Hyperscalers versus the Neo cloud tail 9:37 The depth perpetual idea 12:30 Underwriting eight chips, not companies 17:14 Why most RWAs are "toxic waste" 21:11 SaaS credit is dead 23:03 GPU loans as a super sector 26:37 Inside the Nvidia financing gap 30:20 Why only Nvidia chips 33:12 Compute as the next stablecoin 35:31 PYUSD, USDAI, and lowering the rate 38:34 Insurance with Barker and Munich Re 40:13 Internet capital markets versus margin 42:25 Where on-chain credit actually wins Youtube:

I am the Director of Reconciliation. I do not work for any of the companies in this story. I work for the desk between them. My desk has two columns. Column A is what the government said you owed. Column B is what you gave. My entire job is the single row that holds them both, and the one rule of the desk, the only rule, is that I never put a verb between them. A verb is an accusation. An accusation is a court's problem. I do not keep accusations. I keep rows. Let me show you how the desk works, since you are the one taking it over. Start with the clean one. Early last year, in the final weeks of one administration, the derivatives regulator took $5 million from a crypto exchange to settle a case, and wrote an order telling the exchange what it could no longer say. Column A: $5 million and a leash. Then the letterhead changed with the election. This May, the same regulator walked into the same court and asked the judge to undo its own order. Its own. The lawyers who had written "the defendant shall not" now wrote that the case "should not have been filed." They did not return the $5 million. They only took down the leash. 22 days later, the two men who own that exchange moved money into the administration's leading super PAC. The headlines will round it to $10 million. The federal filing does not round: $10,018,464.91, in Bitcoin, 79.35 coins from each brother, on the nineteenth of June, in a document anyone with a browser can open. Two dates. One row. I do not put a verb between them, and the restraint is the whole craft. I am not telling you the second number moved the first. I am telling you they sit on the same row, at the same desk, and that the row balanced. What a person does with a balanced row is a matter for that person's conscience. I only keep the books. You will want to call this a scandal. Scandal is a word for people who are surprised, and nobody at this desk is surprised. We have a quieter word. We call it reconciliation, which means making two numbers that should have nothing to do with each other agree. A fine and a gift have nothing to do with each other. That is exactly why they reconcile so cleanly. There is no rule against the row, because a rule would need a verb, and I have already told you about verbs. Some rows I close before they open. Watch this one. The consumer bureau sued a bank for cheating people out of more than $2 billion in interest, real money that belonged to people who opened the savings account with the name that sounded like the bigger number. Column A: $2 billion. 6 weeks later, the bureau dismissed its own lawsuit with prejudice, which is the legal phrase for a door that can never be opened again. Column A: zero. I did not even need a Column B for that one. But the desk is thorough. This summer the administration nominated a man to run that same bureau, and he is, at this moment, a compliance executive at the bank that was sued. He has promised to recuse himself from anything touching that bank for two years. He has made no such promise about the payday lenders he used to advise, the ones who lend at rates that climb to 360%, whom the bureau has also, at various times, sued. The person who dismissed the case and the person nominated to run the place are not the same person. I am being scrupulous about that. I do not need them to be the same person. That is the entire point of a desk. The reconciliation never needed a conspiracy. It needed only that everyone, separately, on their own initiative, for reasons entirely their own, keep landing in the same row. Not every row needs a before and an after. Some rows just have a Column B that is always on. There is a drugmaker that paid $47 million to settle allegations it paid kickbacks to move a drug that costs a family more than $150,000 a year. It admitted nothing. The settlement said "alleged," and I honor that, I type "alleged" into the cell myself. It signed an agreement promising to be good. And its owner has given to the same PAC across the whole cycle, $2 million, then $1 million, then $1 million again, steady as a subscription. I do not reconcile that one against any single enforcement date. I do not have to. Some Column Bs simply never turn off. You are going to ask me which side I work for, and the honest answer is the most comforting thing I know. It does not matter. The letterhead changes with the election. The desk where the check lands does not. I have reconciled to one party, and I have reconciled to the other, and the columns were the same width both times. The ledger does not have a party. The ledger has two columns. Anyone who tells you this is about one side has never been shown the book. I have sat here a long time, and here is the thing that used to keep me awake and now puts me to sleep. In all those years, the row has never once failed to balance. Every number in Column A has found its number in Column B, if the number in A was survivable. That is the discovery that changes you. I used to read a fine as a wall. Now I read it the way the desk reads it, as a price, the government printing a number for a thing and trusting you not to notice it is a number. Everyone at my desk notices. The only question the desk has ever asked is whether you can afford it. And here is where I stop being a stranger to you, because you have already done my job. You have stood in front of a parking sign, read the fine, measured it against the garage two blocks over, and parked in the red anyway, because the ticket was cheaper than the walk. You reconciled. You looked at a punishment and saw a rate, and you paid the rate, and you did not feel like a criminal. You felt like a person who is good with money. The whole thing is that plain. I do at $10,018,464.91 what you do at $45. The meter and I run the identical logic, and neither of us has ever once had to say it out loud. A penalty you can comfortably pay stops being a punishment. It quietly becomes the subscription price of the thing you were told to stop doing. My chair is nicer than the meter's, and I have a federal committee number where it has a coin slot. Those are the only differences that survived the audit. So do not ask me to connect the dates. I never connect the dates. I set them on the same row, in the same passive voice the filings use, the motion was filed on the twenty-eighth, the contribution was received on the nineteenth, and I let the whitespace between them do the one thing it is illegal to do with a verb. The pen that writes the fine has a price. The price clears. The books balance. You keep wanting to call it a scandal. From this chair it is a Tuesday. I reconcile it before lunch. Then I go home and help my kid with her math. She is getting good at it. She has finally learned the thing I learned at this desk: the answer is always yes, if you can afford the yes.

Super Earth engineers are considering upgrades to the DSS. Minor challenges included: • Impossible construction costs • Questionable walking stability • Chainsaw-related orbital concern