Some folks, too green to retain residual remembrances, keep calling it anarchy. Other, too yellowed by that masticated “me” metonymy called memory, keep smirking while chalking it up to puerility. I think it’s acrimonious, hormonal and spontaneous, it’s borderline metrical in its invisible hand partiality and might turn out to be a Web 3.0 comorbidity.

A “digimodernist” bestiary rooted in “repetitions”/“differentiations” – damn! already too many nauseating conceptual fixations poised to spawn negative commercial implications for the praxis of some what-you-see-is-not-what-they-said collections that I’m trying to share with like-minded Ξ bullish avatarial standardizations riding a blockchain high-rising to stomp on pixelated daytimes and inflationary ablations - this is what quite a few philatelically powered parametric potpourris are all about. They curate hardcore passe-partouts and try to snuff out crypto-doubt. They punk. Now it’s your turn to shout!

(Ξ LIMITED Ξ TO Ξ 707 Ξ)