Fit of Giggles

We are entering an internet where the marginal cost and skill barrier for creating any form of content is collapsing toward zero. The algorithmically mediated feed has become the default interface to the world’s information. This has two second-order consequences that I think people underestimate.

First, narrative influence becomes a scalable technical problem. In a unified feed, it is not necessary to persuade the public one mind at a time; it is enough to learn how the distribution system behaves. Small, coordinated groups—nation states and increasingly ordinary people armed with cheap AI tools—can back-solve the incentives of recommendation engines and “steer” perception. It’s quite scary. We are all, whether we like it or not, on the frontlines of a continuous meme war where the terrain is attention.

Second, trust collapses as a default heuristic. When AI can generate unlimited content from any persona, from any viewpoint, with convincing specificity—real or fabricated—“someone said it” becomes a useless signal. The traditional media posture of objectivity has been eroding for years, but the next era makes the core flaw impossible to ignore: audiences may need incentive transparency. Paradoxically, people often respect a voice not despite its interests, but because those interests are legible. What fails is not opinionated media; what fails is opinionated media that pretends it has no stake.

The attention economy today is built on a fundamental misalignment of incentives. Platforms design the algorithms that quantify popularity, then pay creators based on those opaque scores, which users do the work of generating demand for, while monetizing most of the economic value off-platform via advertising and downstream capture. The whole concept of any kind of media organization is who can break the most valuable information the fastest.

A viral TikTok has a lifecycle that looks like a meme coin chart: discovery, momentum, reflexive amplification, and decay. Today that volatility is monetized inefficiently and captured by intermediaries. If each post can be treated as a tradable object—without forcing average people to become “crypto people”—competitive markets can price what will matter.

Done correctly, this is not a zero-sum casino; it produces a positive externality: it organizes the world’s information under adversarial conditions.

In crypto, people are users and investors at the same time, because the product is not separate from the economy around it. I believe this is the path to a true “everything app.” Users can make payments via stablecoin infrastructure instantly anywhere to anyone for any reason, advertisers can closely target users who have verified on-chain information, like those who have “>$X spent on face cream from Y company in the last Z days.”

There may be a future where doomscrolling will be the final human skill.

Have you ever noticed a comment like “investing in this post at X likes” on TikTok, or a YouTube user claiming they were “first” to a video?

This concept has stayed in the back of my mind throughout high school—through running my Minecraft YouTube channel, dropshipping lingerie, operating an ultra viral media company, and pursuing side projects in between, like a youth-led news project and producing super viral TikTok music.