(in order of appearance)

Dylan Hunzeker, Dax Hansen, Joe Cutler, Ryan Donnely, Nicholas Racz

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The teacups were placed by the chimney with care,

A brew most peculiar was steeping in there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While nightshade and hemlock danced in my head;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, sipped deep from her cup,

As wolfsbane and foxglove came bubbling up,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I stumbled, head spinning, to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I swayed like a ghost,

The tea's toxic vapors had claimed me almost.

The moon through my vision now twisted and bent,

As poisonous herbs their dark influence lent,

When what to my delirious eyes did appear,

But shadows that danced and induced mortal fear,

With visions so vivid and senses so sick,

I thought I saw phantoms, perhaps Old St. Nick.

More rapid than poison my tremors they came,

As specters around me called out my name:

"Now Deathcap! now Belladonna! now Hemlock and Venom!

On, Nightshade! on, Foxglove! on, Oleander blossom!

To the depths of despair! To the brink of the fall!

Now drink away! drink away! drink away all!"

As leaves in a cauldron that violently fly,

When meeting with moonlight, reach up to the sky;

So into my veins the foul mixture it flew,

With visions of madness, and fever dreams too—

And then, in my delirium, I heard overhead

The sound of my sanity snapping like thread.

As I clutched at my throat, and was spinning around,

Down my consciousness fell with a terrible bound...

My mind fractured and scattered like dust in the wind,

Each sip of that potion, a new horror penned;

A bundle of phantoms danced round in my head,

And I knew in that moment I'd soon join the dead.

My eyes—how they burned now! My sight, growing hazy!

The room spun in circles, thoughts turning quite crazy!

My slack-jawed expression hung loose down below,

While sweat on my brow turned as cold as the snow;

The dregs of the tea still remained in my teeth,

And shadows encircled my head like a wreath;

I had a strange feeling deep down in my belly

That churned when I moved, like poisonous jelly.

I was weak and I trembled, no longer myself,

As the toxic brew drained all my remaining health;

The blink of an eye brought new terrors to dread,

As visions of doom filled my fevered head;

I spoke not a word, just collapsed in my place,

As darkness and madness came on with such grace,

And pressing my hand to my violently ill nose,

Through spiraling nightmares, dark visions arose;

I crawled to my deathbed, gave one final whistle,

As life fled my body like down from a thistle.

But they heard me exclaim, with my last rattling breath—

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good death!"

Ryan Silva & Greg Tseng

AI Gone Haywire

Alexis Tabak

Some of you know I host a podcast Glitter Ledger: where my alter ego is a bit of a Cheeky Vulgar, social climbing borderline manic with a unique ambition to do nothing while seemingly doing everything with style and opulence who is quite confused about crypto and web3 but is overall very kind and slightly deranged.

An excerpt from her General musings and her time at Peer:

Good evening. What a great pleasure it is to be with you all this evening. Especially those considered high value, myself included. I have accomplished so much in my 23 years; I can ski every Green Circle from Gstaad to Sundance,  I can solve the Pythagorean theorem,  I can use Uniswap  and I’ve made out with Do Kwon at the Four Seasons Lobby Permissionless 2017 If you know you, I also  have Jesus complex and am starting a new charity where I am raising money on chain for teen mums with poorly decorated ski chalets; a cause near and dear to my soul. Please donate via Tornado Cash.

  I digress.  My name is Angelina Simone Vonhausen Von Chapstick, educated at Rosay boarding school raised on Rolexes and  Cote Du Rhode wine varietals and a volatile stock market. I hail from a long line of railroad money and uranium puts. I consider my Nanny my best friend, and a day of Botox, lip injections, Hand jobs , and a SoulCycle class 10 minute breathwork, a session with my psychiatrist and depositing $100 onto my Coinbase account a day of sincere accomplishments. Alas, I am truly crypto native and the ultimate Traditional DeFi Wife.

Here is how I got here:

It was during a late night poker session  in our parlor room In Gstaad -over Manhattans and Cigars with my most recent soon to be ex- husband a very old wealthy web1tech executive who said things like “nothing hits you like a Mark Rothko painting”, aren’t you so excited to meet him? that I realized I had no legitimate means of drug Prescription SoulCycle or injection money besides my dwindling railroad trust fund and  soon to be alimony which sent a shocking chill to the spine.

I pondered. What career could I possibly undertake that could require no skills but a big smile impeccable style, fresh manicure, leave me to travel the world shill meaningless products and ideas and get drunk with people I do not necessarily like get away from my family and manically write on twitter illustrating a grandiose self-obsession with my own intelligence on the failures of the current financial system as we know it; everyone has a story of how they found the whitepaper. That is mine. And by the way; the only problem I have with the current financial system is the inability to see what my Husband spends his money on; I am told crypto fixes this.  Back to the white paper. I stopped at Peer to Peer; as Why on earth would I peer to peer trade when I do not trust my peers. Nevertheless, I dug deep. Into my Birkin. I pondered whether I could slither my way into the web3crypto nonsensical industry that would simultaneously fool my husband into believing I was a career gal not divorce me and prove to the ladies  on the Board at New York City Ballet I was Philanthropic enough to spend my time giving bank accounts to the unbanked and unnecessary. And uninteresting .  I knew this could be the ticket to secure my marriage to prevent him from pursuing divorce and securing my Board seat. I managed to get a job that I found on Discord  by accident when I thought I logged into my porn account. The job is doing marketing and Community managing for a decentralized finance project that allows human AI agents to capture real world data and get rewarded in a token; so elegant; I don’t know what any of those words mean; nor why anyone needs real world data; I thought that it already exits in the International Herald Tribune; but regardless I am simply Killing it. All I do is I go on X spaces with other Crypto AI partners with highlights by Frederick Fekkai and say words like of “cutting-edge AI solutions For telecom electrical energy wrapped up in in a blender of glitter and Dom Perignon served in a baccarat martini glass.”  I do not use AI really; Although; ChatGPT  has half decent recommendations for intercourse playlists when I needed to seduce the Paradigm Parafi Paramount paraphernalia guys to lead a round out of thin air for a new product that produces something no one asks for and solves problems no one knew they needed- which quite frankly sounds like a session at my couples therapist

And so; it seems that the plot of crypto; a financial solution without the traditional players; still has all the traditional players.

Then I received an invitation to Peer Summit with no Luma or social media presence but only whispers of ski slopes and no panels but content with alcohol. At first, I was skeptical, Peer Summit, it sounds Cultish masking in Communist sort of like the white paper. But I think I have found my people, a ski retreat where 6 of the 173 skied and most are found in the sauna.

With a critical and discerning self-reflection, I have truly found myself home amongst the exclusive invite only Peer Sumites.  And to be clear, I always aim to be always above my peers. However;  There is nothing I love more than sitting in a  professional hot tub high on white powder with rich people in questionable altitudes discussing ZKrollup my you know what, Ski mountain hills that mirror your pets names and now, joining those with unwavering borderline unhealthy obsession with Jared.

Perhaps I have found the cult I have always wanted. I am sorry SoulCycle

And as I pondered chain-smoking in my beat up   tragically poisoned mother’s Chanel Bag outside the screening room waiting for Godot, waiting for my shuttle to my remote cabin;  I was groped with my fervent approval and exchanged Telegram names with the 3rd largest fund here who isn’t it the main Peer Group nor on the Vehicle ride airport list nor in the very serious advanced Meditator list,; I wondered if I had made soon to be my ex proud. Well. I do not care as long as I get fiat or BUIDL that I can immediately convert To Euros in Paris in time for Pret a Porter next week. Through breathwork, charcuterie boards, fireside chats, and blindfold chess games, none of which I attended because I have been in the spa, this has been a most pivotal groundbreaking weekend, where I have made long lasting friends, lovers, enemies, and have joined the unhealthy obsession with Jared.

See you next year