I’m not stuck inside my computer—not actually. I’m hanging out with my friends and having fun.
If you would have told me even a month ago that I would be trading crypto currency, I would laugh. If you told me I’d be a part of a team launching my own coin, I’d laugh even harder. Then when I was able to get it together, I would ask you what the hell that means.
Now I know what it means.
When I went to Urbit Assembly in Portugal this past fall, I walked around holding a microphone that wasn’t attached to anything followed by my friend who was holding a camera. He recorded my “interviews” with different men (Elena being the only exception), seeking an answer to one seemingly simple question: what is Urbit?
I got a range of answers.
The most coherent answers seemed to be some version of this: Urbit is a peer-to-peer server, a decentralized network that can replace the internet.
When you use the internet (as I am in this moment to type on Substack and eventually publish this piece), you are not directly on a website. the website is shared to a centralized server, and your device finds the website from that server. When you send something to somebody, it is sent to the server, then from the server to the recipient. With Urbit, on the other hand, you are connecting directly to the “website.” What you send goes directly from you to the recipient.
I’m sure I butchered the wording, but you get what I’m saying.
It’s really not that complicated. But you would be surprised how many people at Urbit Assembly, when faced with this question, seemed like they wouldn’t have been able to explain Urbit if they had a gun to their head. Here’s a paraphrased example…
Me: What is Urbit?
Him: Well… that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?
Me: Yeah, I guess so. So what brings you here to Urbit Assembly?
Him: I actually was a part of creating Urbit—
I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
But here’s the thing—did he actually not know, or is this a part of the bit? Maybe a little bit of both. I was “stupid”. There I was, going around asking men in a silly little voice at Urbit Assembly, “what is Urbit???” But I put myself in a position where I made it very clear I “didn’t know.” I made it very clear I was “stupid.” With the stage set and the roles cast—he as the knight and me as the fool—when he was revealed to have only a little bit more understanding than I do, he was the fool.
This is the archetype of the EGIRL.
But it’s important to note that it’s not as simple as playing dumb. It’s something much more nuanced than that. It’s a transparency (and maybe even exaggeration) of your lack of understanding, but in a way that points out the general absurdity.
What the hell is going on? We’re pressing buttons on our phone and making stupid amounts of money. It really makes no sense. So is the EGIRL stupid? Is she performing? Maybe she is doing something else entirely—something incredibly honest in an unrecognizable way.
When I was doing the interviews in Portugal, I would respond to “peer-to-peer” with something like, “oh, like, when you’re in 9th grade and the cute senior tutors you in geometry?” I responded to the phrase “doing away with the internet and creating something completely new,” with, “oh, so like, Urbit is doing a 9/11 on the internet and like making a One World Trade Center!” Similarly, when I started trading crypto, I compared it to video game money—but hear me out. My brain had a hard time comprehending how something just becomes currency. How is somebody able to decide that something that was not once money is now money? But to an extent, things are what we collectively decide they are. I played a lot of Animal Crossing during the lockdowns. Like, a lot. And a lot of other people were also really into Animal Crossing. I even discovered that there were Reddit threads where people would connect with other players and offer USD in exchange for Animal Crossing animals, furniture, or even coins. Animal Crossing coins became currency because a community agreed that there was exchange value. From what I understand, this is how crypto currency is a currency.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not calling it ‘fake money’. It’s sure as hell no faker than the US dollar especially since we abandoned the gold standard. I always rolled my eyes at “crypto bros,” but I have come to appreciate this world and community. It is a historically unprecedented moment. It’s an economic model unlike anything we have ever really seen before. Similar to the EGIRL herself, the economic foundation that crypto currency exists within is extremely honest about the fact that money isn’t real. But it is. But it’s not. I also find it exciting that a ‘new economy’ is forming, because uncharted territory creates room for growth. Over saturation makes it much easier to hate your neighbor. When exploring a new playground, on the other hand, you are not only more willing, but more able to grow with your neighbor. I have experienced this myself in the community I learned from. Maybe it won’t last forever, but at least for now it’s a hell of a lot better than what we left behind.
The feminine is performative. The feminine is absurd. The EGIRL is the evolution of the jester. Maybe just maybe, the EGIRL is onto something.