bonjour,
by popular request for those who long to be both respected and feared, here is your complete guide to aura farming onchain:
the most valuable asset in crypto isn’t bitcoin, or alpha, or even vc backing, it’s aura. not charisma. not competence. aura. the ineffable energy field that determines whether people treat your 14-like shitpost as prophetic gospel, or block you for war crimes against syntax.
aura is not earned. it is summoned. conjured from vibes, semiotic tension, and the strategic withholding of context. it is a performance art of the highest order: unpaid, unscheduled, and always online.
and yes, like everything else in this industry, it can be farmed.
step 1: establish the lore
start with your bio. be vague, powerful, and spiritually inaccessible. it must suggest depth, danger, and perhaps a mild flirtation with fraud.
“Building something weird.” ; “thermodynamics enjoyer” ; “Early.”
“DeFi degenerate 🤪🚀” ; Alpha caller ; Web3 generalist ; Experimental storyteller ; Investor & advisor
your pfp should evoke either cultural capital (punk, squiggle) or existential threat (remilia assets or derivative), as a last resort, the ai girl with glitch eyes will pass. real photos are for normies and tax filers. if you insist on a selfie, at least make sure you’re hot in a way that suggests you ghost with integrity.
step 2: speak in riddles
aura is not saying smart things. it is seeming like someone who could, but refuses to. It’s about being unverifiably adjacent to truth.
don’t say “I’m bullish.” Say “The reflexivity is setting in.”
don’t explain. Just allude. “Been watching this one quietly for months.”
bonus points for citing research papers with more footnotes than followers.
the goal is to sound like you sit at the intersection of several invisible forces.
step 3: master the strategic disappearance
when the market is euphoric: post a grayscale image of an overpass in warsaw.
when the market crashes: go silent and return with a quote from Kierkegaard.
aura is inversely correlated with availability. the most powerful people are either asleep, in berlin, or just sent one cryptic message to a group chat and vanished.
step 4: cloutfarming your oomfies and moots
aura is a network effect. if a low-aura account posts “market looks good here,” no one cares. if someone with aura posts “” … it’s a macro signal. get quote-tweeted by someone with cultural liquidity, and your aura score triples overnight. but beware: reply too fast, and you’ll look thirsty. aura is earned through scarcity, not enthusiasm. observe the sacred law: you must never want it more than they do.
step 5: play the meta, then transcend It
the final form of aura farming is pretending you’re above it.
say aura farming is cringe
then aura farm perfectly
smile mysteriously
this is the highest level of influence: being post-clout while still harvesting it aggressively in the background. true aura is self-aware, self-effacing, and quietly bloodthirsty.
advanced moves
mention group chats you’re not supposed to mention
aall something “inevitable” without elaboration
say “real ones know” to imply a secret
use technical jargon to flirt
have a public opinion about something no one has heard of
admit you were wrong once, softly, to appear grounded
if you ever tweet the word “aura,” it’s gone. That’s it. It flees the moment you acknowledge it.
you’ll know you’ve made it when:
your quote tweets change market sentiment
your DMs are 80% VCs and 20% incels asking to “jam” or “pick your brain”
people thank you in spaces for “holding it down” even though you said nothing
but remember: the game is unwinnable.
aura is a performance with no intermission. a slow-drip hallucination. a consensual delusion between you and your followers. forever.
hope this helps. good luck out there.
and enjoy some mostly accurate reportings below
xx, c
the dramaaaaaa: Robinhood tokenized OpenAI and SpaceX equity without "permission" and announced it last week at EthCC in Cannes. OpenAI immediately disavowed it, saying they didn't partner with Robinhood and don't endorse the products. Using decentralized rails, you can create exposure products for any asset without permission. The real issue is wealth concentration: retail investors can't access companies like OpenAI until they're $10+ trillion valuations, unlike earlier tech giants that went public small.
The OpenAI vs Robinhood tokenized stock drama isn't just another crypto controversy...it's a perfect case study in how tech innovation bumps up against legacy power structures. Let's break down what's really happening here.
First, let's clear up the confusion. OpenAI came out swinging with a statement that felt almost defensive: "These 'OpenAI tokens' are not OpenAI equity. We did not partner with Robinhood, were not involved in this, and do not endorse it."
But here's the thing. Robinhood never claimed they partnered with OpenAI. They're essentially saying: "hey, we have some shares, and we're creating a derivative product that tracks their value." You don't need OpenAI's permission to do this, just like you don't need Apple's permission to create an Apple futures contract.
What You're Actually Buying
Robinhood CEO Vlad Tenev was surprisingly candid about this: "It is true that these are not technically equity." What customers are buying is a derivative, basically a bet on how OpenAI's stock price moves. When you "buy OpenAI" on Robinhood, you're not getting:
Voting rights
Direct ownership
The ability to transfer your position
Any guarantee of future tradability
You're getting exposure to price movements, period. It's a cash-settled betting market dressed up as stock ownership.
The Innovation vs Adoption Tension
This drama perfectly illustrates a fundamental tension in tech: innovation alone doesn't matter if you can't play nice with existing power structures. OpenAI's reaction reveals something important. They clearly don't want a public market for their shares before they're ready for one.
Most private companies jealously guard their secondary markets. They want to control who owns their equity and when liquidity events happen. Robinhood's approach essentially says "we don't need your permission" and creates a parallel market whether companies like it or not.
The Retail Reality Check
Here's where it gets interesting from a behavioral perspective. Does retail actually care about equity ownership, or do they just want exposure to asset volatility?
Most retail investors in public companies never vote their shares or attend shareholder meetings. They're buying a ticker symbol, not participating in corporate governance. So when Robinhood offers "OpenAI exposure" instead of "OpenAI equity," the practical difference for most users is... minimal.
Normalization Through Action
What's fascinating is how quickly this moves from "controversial financial innovation" to "thing that exists now." Robinhood's strategy seems to be: create enough liquidity and trading volume that the market becomes its own justification.
If thousands of people are actively trading these tokens daily, and the price discovery seems reasonable, does it matter that it's technically a derivative? The market creates its own legitimacy through participation.
The Broader Implications
This isn't just about one company or one product. It's about what happens when crypto rails enable permissionless financial innovation. Tradfi required partnerships, regulatory approval, and institutional blessing. Crypto says "we can build this ourselves."
But as OpenAI's reaction shows, the legacy world isn't just going to roll over. Companies will push back, regulators will scrutinize, and there will be ongoing tension between "we built this so it's legitimate" and "we didn't approve this so it's not."
The Future of Synthetic Ownership
The Lithuanian regulator's measured response ("we need to assess the legality and compliance of these instruments") is probably the template for how this plays out globally. Not immediate shutdown, but careful evaluation of what these products actually are and how they should be regulated.
The real question is whether mainstream users will embrace synthetic ownership or demand "real" equity. If history is any guide, convenience and accessibility usually win over technical purity. Most people using Venmo don't think about the underlying banking rails, they just want to split a dinner bill.
What This Reveals About Innovation
This whole episode shows that truly disruptive innovation often looks like rule-breaking at first. Robinhood isn't asking permission, they're creating a new category of financial product and letting the market decide if it's valuable.
But it also shows that innovation without institutional buy-in faces real headwinds. OpenAI's public disavowal matters, even if it doesn't technically change the product. Perception shapes adoption, and adoption shapes success.
The companies that figure out how to balance crypto-native innovation with legacy world legitimacy will probably be the ones that actually achieve mainstream adoption. Pure disruption is exciting, but sustainable disruption requires playing politics too.
That's the real lesson here: in finance, being technically correct isn't enough. You need the market to believe in you, regulators to tolerate you, and legacy players to either embrace you or at least stop actively fighting you.
Robinhood is betting they can create enough momentum to make this feel inevitable. OpenAI is betting they can maintain control over their own narrative. The rest of us get to watch and see which force wins.
Kizzy enables users to bet on social media metrics like follower growth and post performance across platforms like YouTube, Twitter, and TikTok. The platform reports 70,000 weekly active users placing an average of 42 bets per month. Unlike traditional prediction markets that face resolution disputes, Kizzy uses clear metrics from social media platforms themselves. This eliminates the ambiguity that has plagued other prediction market platforms. The platform plans to share revenue with creators, creating incentives for influencers to promote betting on their content. This could create a new revenue stream for the creator economy.
Ohara, a platform that lets users create apps through simple prompting, has seen explosive growth driven by thousands of small optimizations rather than major feature releases. The success comes from recognizing that AI products require different user experience principles. Users need constant hand-holding because AI-powered creation is still new behavior for most people. As foundational models improve, users are attempting more complex projects, creating a positive feedback loop between infrastructure quality and user ambition.
Sofia Garcia's story reads like a perfect convergence of curiosity, timing, and pure hustle. She runs ARTXCODE, is about to start teaching an algorithmic art history masters course at NYU, and has been the steady hand guiding generative art from a niche online community to legitimate cultural movement.
The origin story is beautifully analog. Art history major in Miami, painting street murals with Spanish friends, working at a contemporary Chinese art gallery while slowly realizing the traditional art world had some serious economic limitations. Her dad kept pushing her to learn coding. She finally caved and took a free CS50 class at a local college, literally watching Harvard's computer science lectures with a local professor walking students through the homework.
That moment rewired her brain. "For the first time ever, this thing [software] that kind of just seemed to exist, I really saw the people behind the scenes." She started thinking about how computers hadn't even been around for 100 years, and here were people making art with them. Her final project? A website covering the entire history of art made with computers.
What happened next shows her instincts were perfect. She started an anonymous Artxcode Instagram account where she could privately geek out about "creative coding.” Every morning at JPMorgan, before checking emails, she'd scroll hashtags looking for amazing work to share. Artists started using #artxcode because they knew she had taste.
Her first crypto experience was accidentally perfect. 2016 Bitcoin hackathon, built a microtransaction billing API, won 1.5 Bitcoin. Spent it on a faja (waist trainer) from some sketchy website and a flight to visit her sister. "I was like a college student trying to figure it out. I bought like a proper Latina girl." At least she actually used it instead of losing it on a piece of paper somewhere.
The art dealing started by accident. Working at JPMorgan finally gave her income to collect work from Tyler Hobbs and Dimitri Cherniak. A coworker told her about this "art crypto event" in NYC. She took a day off, paid $75 for a booth at the Contemporary Digital Art Fair, called her friend Sebastian for backup, and somehow sold out their entire show. "I guess I sell art now."
The NFT evolution was messy and educational. Started in 2019 using NFTs as certificates of authenticity for physical prints. The OpenSea co-founder literally had to mint Dimitri's first piece because the process was so complicated. Then COVID killed physical shows. After her AI art exhibition was canceled in paris, she put the same works on SuperRare as pure NFTs - everything sold for more than the planned physical prices. "My commission dropped significantly once I realized I know longer had to pay for production or shipping. It was just such an... of course."
But the Sotheby's moment radicalized her. Watching them display Dimitri's square generative art on a 16:9 TV screen with black bars, selling for over a million dollars. "It looked like a joke. I'd spent so much time trying to show people how incredible generative art is, and then you just... it's digital art, we show it on a digital screen. It was lazy."
So she quit her job and organized "The Digital" for Art Basel 2021 - her love letter to the community. Casey Reas's circular, animated works displayed as projection-mapped disks on the wall. Jeff Davis's Color Studies kept digital because "you cannot print them, it decouples them from their actual purpose." Chromie Squiggles as holograms you could walk around like ancient artifacts. She even got custom fragrance for the space.
Today's ARTXCODE is something between gallery, agency, and creative house. Full artist representation that goes way beyond sales... critiquing work, negotiating contracts, getting artists into museum residencies at places like MoMA and SMK Copenhagen. Her philosophy on opportunities: "If it's not a fuck yeah, then it's usually a no."
The advice she gives emerging artists cuts through all the noise: experiment wildly, make ugly things, share your work online (not necessarily mint it), build genuine relationships, be kind to servers when you go to dinner. The community grew from hobbyists who did this because they loved it, not because money was involved.
Her current challenge is protecting artists from the chaos. "The biggest challenge has to be just how fast this has all happened." Artists getting inundated with opportunities from people trying to ride the generative art wave. Her role has become part curator, part guardian ... "like back up, what's up, if you want to work with this artist, let's see a deal that makes sense."
She's thinking decades, not months. Museum relationships over quick sales. Sustainable careers over viral moments. The long game of building cultural legitimacy for a movement that could easily get lost in speculation and hype.
The bigger picture: Sofia built the bridge between 50 years of digital art history and what's happening now. She's teaching the frameworks that help people understand why this matters, protecting artists from bad deals, and ensuring the cultural foundation is strong enough to last beyond market cycles. That work is rarer and more valuable than most people realize.
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