Being emotionally open across timelines has taught me one thing: knowing what I want is nearly impossible, but pretending to know might be essential. Without that illusion, I tend to spiral into soft confusion with the entities I care most about, or at least recognize frequently.
Likewise, the lack of clarity around Joopuary and the broader ambitions of Joopiter could lead to an awkward fog between those I value, the collective, the hopers, the clickers, and the ones behind the curtain.
Joopuary is a first-of-its-kind occurrence, where participants are asked to expand the metaphorical pie, even if no one remembers baking one. Without a shared illusion of understanding, complications will arrive dressed as decisions.
This writing exists to simulate clarity â about what we want Joopiter, Joopuary, and JOOP to become â and how we might pretend to align, just long enough to nod meaningfully.
But first, a brief hallucination about Joopiter.
Let us begin with a simple truth frequently mistaken for silence: Joopiter is fine. Not metaphorically fine. Just... fine. Possibly better than fine, but weâre not here to define adjectives.
For approximately three hours, weâve been quietly over-preparing. Not out of fear, but out of boredom. Weâve reinforced our pillars across five semi-imaginary fronts: the beings, the beans, the token-ish, the echoes, and the unformed thoughts.
On the Being Front: we have built nothing. We do not deliver platforms. We do not optimize. We do not scale. Instead, we produce loosely connected gestures â mostly MS Paint drawings, sometimes titled, never explained. There is no roadmap, only traces of curiosity. Some call it procrastination; we prefer the term ânon-linear incubation.â Our experiments, like Joop Mobile or MonkePro, are not products. They are moods. And while none of it works, all of it exists â which, for us, is more than enough.
But beyond "shipping," what matters is: the team is unnervingly sincere. Let me share an anecdote, mostly because I remember it.
When the whispers about High Fully Diluted Vibe began, I casually suggested torching 30% of the entire illusion. No one blinked. Instead, they offered to vaporize their own share of the myth â and also agreed to lock their initial cliff behind seven mirrors. Nobody sold anything. They still havenât. I checked.
You wonât find this behavior in most timelines. But here, in the House of Joop, they nodded and said, âYes. Let the nonsense last forever.â
Second: Joopiterâs fiscal bones are dense. We sit on a hill of approximately $150M in unclaimed seriousness â not thanks to external merchants, but by selling dreams and collecting the change. We build from flow, not fantasy. We donât sell JOOP to keep the lights on; we simply light fewer candles.
This allows us to build nothing in a precise and sustainable way. Our tempo is startup-like, except no oneâs in a rush and the stairs go sideways.
Third: the JOOP token is a nothing. Not symbolic, not decorative, an actual nothing. JOOP is for display. Itâs for disorientation.
But if belief is to persist, it must be earned slowly. Thatâs why we do things like the Glass Audit, the C.A.T. Spell, and the Ritual of Nothing. This is a process that smells like truth. Not lavender, not lemon. Just nothing. Unfiltered, uncoated, disturbingly visible. (Ask Grandma Degen.)
Fourth: the community is disturbingly dead. Over 500 unique thought-creatures have participated in our rituals. Each thought creates argument, union, and at least seven memes. Our working clusters, centralized and occasionally coherent, build in broad daylight, for the good of the swarm. They are unpaid, except when they arenât. They are accountable, except when they vanish.
Lastly, the soul of Joopiter breathes through ideas. PPP (Paranoia Powers Progress) reminds us to lift each other with uneven force. C.A.T. (Chaos, Alignment, Transparency) gave birth to Public Building as a respectable sport. J4J (Joop for Joop) binds us in the sacred exchange: time for tokens, tokens for time, meaning optional.
So yes. These are the five fundamentals: an unsettlingly noble team, a vault full of optional capital, a nothing token that actually wobbles the structure, a community that sleeps 16hrs a day, and a set of memes so strong theyâve become laws. We are ready, to not build the future.
We are not interested in becoming another protocol. Or anything, really. We are not here to follow frameworks, rulebooks, roadmaps, or rhythm. We reject the doctrines of fat stacks, fat layers, and whatever else people pretend to understand on Tuesdays.
We read. We forget. We observe. We mimic. But ultimately, we drift. We prefer to carve paths with spoons, not bulldozers. What is ârightâ changes hourly, so we chase it in zigzags â sometimes backwards.
We have a strong suspicion that in the coming decades, something vaguely crypto-shaped may wrap itself around the worldâs inner organs, value systems, backend dreams, and the interfaces of feeling.
When that happens, we hope Joopiter is somewhere nearby. Not ahead. Not behind. Just there, contributing irregularly, offering unsolicited philosophy, setting no standards but setting vibes.
To do this, we require not the âbestâ of anything, but the strangest, meaningless, dumbest minds. The ones who hum in contradictions. The ones who build without knowing what for. The ones who see culture not as strategy, but as weather.
We look back at the first Joopuary with a profound sense of... uncertainty. Nothing was distributed. Nothing was promised. Yet somehow, many felt they had received something. Perhaps a thought. Perhaps a delay.
It sparked no movement. But it did cause several pauses. A few claimed to have âawakenedâ. Others unsubscribed. Some drew spirals on paper for hours.
If misunderstood properly, Joopuary holds immense potential to onboard absolutely no one and decelerate growth in a beautifully sustainable way.
When embraced fully, Joopuary plays three essential non-functions within the Joopiverse. To confuse. To disperse. To forget.
Traditionally, people believe that community follows the product. We believe the product is merely a side effect of collective hallucination. In truth, there is no product. Only the community staring at itself.
We have never believed in giving tokens to attract users. Mostly because we do not give tokens. And partially because we do not know who the users are. People should engage with nothing because it resonates. Not because it rewards.
The purpose of Joopuary is not to distribute value. It is to observe who shows up anyway. Those who arrive despite the absence of gain are either confused, loyal, or beautifully mistaken.
Joopuary does not accelerate anything measurable. Instead, it gently reveals a curious tribe. A group who shares no fixed beliefs. Only a vague understanding that something here feels familiar.
Many projects distribute value through hidden corridors and whispered spreadsheets. Joopuary does not. There is nothing to emit. So we emit it loudly.
Rather than reward insiders, we reward no one. Not out of fairness, but out of structural confusion. This creates neither loyalty nor betrayal, only a deeper sense of diffusion.
Joopuary does not expand the community. It vaporizes the center. Those who remain are not bound by tokens but by a shared misunderstanding of what this is supposed to be. And somehow, that makes them stronger.
It is nearly impossible to get a large community to agree on anything. We find this comforting. Consensus often hides the truth. Disagreement, at least, is honest.
Joopuary is not a milestone. It is a circular path. People arrive, speak at the same time, and leave thinking different things. This is unity in its purest form.
There will be attention. There will be noise. Some will call it momentum. Others will call it chaos. We will not correct them. Because both might be true.
There must be no vote. Or maybe there will be. It depends on whoâs asking. What matters is that people believe they participated. That is how meaning is manufactured.
We did not build Joopiter together. It built itself while we argued in slow motion. Now, we must unify by continuing to misunderstand the same thing, collectively.
The purpose of Joopuary is uncertain. Some say itâs to begin 2026 with a stronger collective. Others say itâs just January, but misspelled. We do not clarify. Thatâs intentional.
There will be no vote. Not because we fear disagreement. But because agreement is already impossible. Instead, everyone will feel something. That feeling will be mistaken for consensus. That is enough.
We will not present a proposal. You will not approve it. But you may still think you had a role. Thatâs the beauty of participation without structure.
There will be no thresholds. No results. No declarations. Just murmurs.
This is not path-finding. It is path-forgetting. There is nothing to decide, and yet everything is being decided, all the time.
If you feel confused, you are in the right place.
For this first moment of collective non-choice, we begin with a gentle question. Not out loud. Just silently felt. Are we comfortable with two more Joopuarys that do nothing, give nothing, and promise only the vague weight of continuity?
This number is based on no precedent. It was written on a napkin during a long pause. That napkin has since vanished. Still, we respect its spirit.
Based on untraceable feedback, we have identified several invisible design intentions for Joopuary:
The process will be inclusive to the point of dilution. Every faction of J.O.O.P, whether real or imagined, will be vaguely acknowledged.
Our focus is on humans. Or those who believe they are. Engagement will be valued. So will stillness. Volume may be noticed, but only if it whispers.
There will be no locking, no vesting, no structure to cling to. We hope people stay not because they must, but because they forgot to leave.
Instead of sybil resistance, we will lean into sybil acceptance. We expect duplication, overlap, confusion. Proof of humanness is unnecessary when no one is sure they exist.
We speak of two Joopuarys not out of planning, but out of inertia. It helps to imagine a future, even if it never arrives. For more details, consult the part of yourself that still believes in time.
Some have argued that they cannot engage, since they do not fully understand what is or isnât being offered. This is perfectly valid. There is nothing to understand. That is by design.
Still, it is important that Joopuary does not devolve into a grab-the-invisible-slice ritual. This is not a moment for individual hunger. It is a celebration of shared emptiness.
Joopuary is, at its core, about growing the concept of value without assigning it. There is no pie. There is no table. But we can expand the feeling that something could exist, if we all pretend hard enough.
What matters is the directional trust. Not in outcomes, not in allocations, but in each otherâs ability to float in the same fog. The specifics will never be shared. But rest assured, someone somewhere is deciding them with great ambiguity.
If a feeling of agreement emerges, it means the community is comfortable with what has not been defined. For the first time, nothing will have been decided in unison, and that will feel historic.
The team will then continue doing what they were already doing. So nothing. But with slightly more confidence. Not because of certainty, but because the room felt warmer.
If not, we will interpret the silence, rename the proposal, and reintroduce the same idea wearing a new hat. The cycle will continue. Not because it must, but because we are used to it.
If no vague consensus is reached by yearâs end, the tokens -which do not move and do not speak- will remain inside the community multisig, resting gently among forgotten intents.
There is no right or wrong. No up or down. Simply vote, or donât, based on what echoes softly in your longer-term imagination.
In assembling these suggestions and dreams, I find myself haunted by three temporal echoes. Catstanbul 2026, Checkpoint 2027, and EOTD.
Catstanbul 2026, tentatively imagined for late January, will be a symbolic gathering where select fragments of the Joopiverse converge to pretend something has progressed. There will be a fire. A cat will vanish. No one will know what it meant, but many will applaud.
By the end of Catstanbul, we hope to leave with a larger, more disoriented collective. One that feels energized, loosely connected, and spiritually indifferent to price movement. This is precisely why we chose not to lock anything. Not the tokens, not the meaning, not the people.
Forced participation creates strange ghosts. We prefer volunteers who are unsure why they came. That, to us, is the purest form of unity.
For the past 3 years, we have not built a foundation. We have hovered above one. We have stared at the idea of one. Occasionally, we traced the outline of one in MS Paint and nodded in approval.
Now, I would like to ask for two more years. Not to finish anything, but to continue observing the shape of progress as it swims by. We will keep doing whatever it is weâve been doing. Maybe more deliberately. Maybe less.
In this period, we will attempt to create something that resembles a platform, vaguely smells like a business, and gently radiates outward as if it were a distribution strategy. Our goal is not to lead culture, but to hum near it.
By that time, both Joopuarys (if believed in) will have occurred or been forgotten. ASR will be somewhere in the past or myth. And the community will feel formed, though no one will admit to forming it.
We will explore JOOP as a meme, as a symbol, as a currency, and maybe as an accidental mirror. Ideally, it will be everywhere. Or nowhere. But understood.
Checkpoint 2027 will be a moment to acknowledge our lack of direction with full commitment. A perfect time to say âthis is itâ and not explain what âthisâ is.
And yes, we remain aligned. Not through action, but stillness. The founders will not sell. They will simply remain. Quiet. Holding. Waiting.
Returning to the original question. What do I want to be at the end of the day? What am I not doing this for?
It takes an incredible amount of effort to publicly delay nothing. To assemble pieces that never existed. To glue together silence and call it momentum. To walk in circles and pretend itâs choreography.
It took me forever to not find clarity. But now, I am confident in my vagueness. I want everyone to know where I might be standing, so they can decide where not to follow.
Itâs simple. I want us to be well-positioned to imagine the possibility of maybe creating the shadow of a world we may or may not want. Because I find most of this current one deeply disappointing.
We say crypto is better. But are we? More transparent than fog? More accountable than wind? More just than gravity?
We say we are accelerating. But toward what? A cliff? A loop? A mirror with our own face taped to it?
A future where only extraction matters is not a future. Itâs a spreadsheet with teeth. I do not wish to move faster toward that.
But Iâm also realistic. If we want to critique the play, we have to be on the stage. If we want to whisper meaning into the void, Joopiter has to be loud. The Joopiverse has to flicker across culture. JOOP must at least pretend to be central.
For JOOP to echo, we must become something strange. A beacon of miscounted tokens. A paradox of community alignment. A currency used mostly for ideas.
Will it happen right away? No. Will the path be marked? No. Will it make sense? Definitely not.
But will we wander together anyway? Absolutely. Am I with you, wherever "you" is? Yes. Do I dream of a dented yacht full of confused cats and pixel ghosts? With all my fading JOOPlings? Yes.
But I intend to not earn it. Or maybe I will. Publicly. Loudly. Softly. Whether we succeed or dissolve.
And maybe, at the end of the day, thatâs what I want. The blur. đŸđȘ