The crypto world’s costly and loud,
With Trump memes attracting a crowd.
You dream of a prize,
But soon realize—
Most fortunes are lost in the cloud.
Off the bat: cryptocurrency (“crypto”) is digital money you store, send, and (sometimes) spend online—there’s no cash, coins, or bank involved.
At a dinner party a couple of months ago, while clutching my wine, “crypto” was ping-ponging around the table. “Of course, with Bitcoin doing what it does…” someone uttered, and everyone murmured as if we all had secret Financial Times subscriptions. Later, a friend confessed, “No clue about crypto—I could explain general relativity more easily.” Time to clear up the blockchain!
Who invented this thing, anyway? (Lex Luther?)
Bitcoin, the granddaddy of all cryptocurrencies, was born in 2009 after the world’s banks had a collective faceplant (also known as the ‘financial crisis’). Enter the mysterious Satoshi Nakamoto—a name, a person, Superman’s cousin? No one knows. Satoshi came up with the idea for bitcoin, wrote the first draft of the white paper in 2008 explaining how it could work, and shared it online so anyone could read it. Bitcoin runs on software—Satoshi coded the first version (called “Bitcoin”) and published it as open-source, making it free for anyone in the world to download and run on their own computer. Then Satoshi simply left the building…
Feels like crypto is everywhere … again
Crypto used to be nerd territory. Now it’s a household word—blame endless headlines and a social media world that never sleeps. The hype right now has come at a time when money’s already mostly digital, so “online coins” stopped sounding sci-fi. Add a huge increase in skepticism about banks and governments, so a borderless, math-based money system appeals.
Here’s the kicker: crypto is just numbers on the internet. Why is it worth anything? Like rare stamps or Pokémon cards, it only has value if enough people agree it does. The dream: buy a coin and find someone who’ll pay more for it later.
The crypto world is flooded with options. Besides Bitcoin, there’s Ethereum, Dogecoin, and thousands more. Each major cryptocurrency runs on its own “blockchain” (think of separate public ledgers, each run by different countries keeping its own bank records). Bitcoin’s ledger doesn’t connect to Ethereum’s and vice versa—just like your euros don’t live in the same ledger as your dollars.
If you’re picturing only hoodie-wearing computer bros typing code by lamplight, think again. Today’s crypto crowd is utterly diverse: college kids with $5 and a dream, grandmas in suburbia hoping to edge out inflation, random Insta celebrities, your suspiciously enthusiastic hairdresser, and even big banks and governments (yep, the irony). Crypto is like karaoke: the first reaction is shaky nerves or dread, but soon enough, everyone’s at the mic killing “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
How do you actually get started?
Picture me, fresh out of bed in pajamas, approaching my laptop:
- I google ‘crypto exchange’ and find many options (Coinbase, Binance, etc.).
- I make an account—uploading ID selfies, a utility bill, you know: the digital adulting essentials and get a digital wallet, in essence a virtual safe on my phone or computer.
- I trade my hard-earned actual money for crypto.
- Crypto pops up in my digital wallet.
- Some people use crypto to buy actual things online (from Indian American tech entrepreneur Balaji Srinivasan who bought an island off Singapore to pizza at Papa John’s), but right now, most crypto owners just hope the price goes up so they can sell to someone else for a profit.
- Lose your password and say goodbye to your coins. There’s no reset button!
Not-so-fun fact: Crypto mining gobbles up absurd amounts of electricity. All those coin purchases and trades are a mini math race between warehouse-sized computer farms, leaving crypto with a big environmental footprint.
And how does the crypto mania actually happen?
Walk with me!
If I want to sell my 10 bitcoins, here’s what actually happens.
I tell the exchange I want to sell my 10 bitcoins.
The system (using code, not people) announces the trade and checks two things—does my wallet really hold those 10 coins, and have I tried to spend them elsewhere?
If I pass, my sale waits in the “mempool,” like a big digital waiting room, with everyone else’s trades.
Miners (also called validators)— folks with huge computers—grab just one batch at a time (called a block). Each block can only include transactions that add up to a maximum of 4 megabytes in data—typically, that ends up being around 2,000 to 3,000 transactions per block.
All the miners then race to solve a tough math puzzle handed out by the Bitcoin software. The first one to crack it gets to officially write my sale (and all the others in that block) into the permanent bitcoin record—the blockchain—and they get new bitcoins as a reward.
The process is so tough and public that cheating isn’t worth it. That’s how my 10 bitcoins get sold: for all the world to see, set in digital stone, and as undoable as sending the wrong email to your boss.
Now is a good place for a warning: with no bank or government safety net, and the technology still fairly new, scams are everywhere! Fake websites; promises of overnight wealth; emails from distant “princes” offering crypto fortunes.
Rule of thumb: if it sounds too good or too complicated, skip it (and clutch your wallet).
Is crypto like a stock?
Not really. A stock makes you part-owner of a real company (Lego Group, Apple, etc.), with profits, votes, and sometimes a slice of the dividends. Crypto coins don’t give you ownership of anything. You’re holding a digital token, and the value depends solely on what someone else is willing to pay—there’s no Apple, no pie, just the hope the next person wants it more.
Now even Donald’s into it
Donald Trump once called crypto a scam. Now he’s selling “Trump Cards”—NFTs (“non-fungible tokens”). Basically, digital trading cards you buy online and only you “own” the official copy, tracked by (you know it) a blockchain! Trump fans actually pay hundreds or even thousands just for a bit of pixelated presidential pizzazz. NFTs are collectibles—sometimes art, sometimes just weird—sold to the highest digital bidder.
Here’s the twist: crypto went mainstream partly because of memes—those free, viral internet jokes and goofy images (cartoon dogs or Trump-as-Iron-Man) you see everywhere online. Entire crypto currencies, like Dogecoin, actually began as memes before turning into real (ish) money. Some of these viral jokes became so famous that people now sell the “official” meme as an NFT—you can now own the original joke, even though everyone online can still copy it for free. It’s peak Trump-world: first, memes made crypto fun and viral; then crypto made NFTs possible; and now, naturally, Trump is turning his own memes into pricey digital collectibles for fans to buy.
Should we all switch to crypto?
Tempting… maybe. Wake up one day, money 100% digital, maybe even making me rich. But most real shops still want cash or cards, not crypto. And: crypto prices swing wildly—what’s worth $100 now might be $5 by lunchtime. Also, of course: if everyone switched, we’d need perfect internet connections, total tech trust, and nerves of steel.
Finally, after all this time spent getting a handle on crypto, I’m afraid the story has already moved on anyway: soon, money, markets, and even our small talk at dinner will be handled by AIs—here’s hoping they still let us pick the wine.