Daft Punk–不是反指版

Hilarious—those old brothers who are still stubbornly holding long positions at $SPCX . I genuinely can’t believe it. You rushed in when the IPO was $135, it went up to $225 but you wouldn’t sell, and now it’s down to $110—you’re still there talking about “long-termism” and “Mars faith.” Can faith fill your stomach? Can a tweet from Musk make your account recover?

Look at this chart. It’s only been a little over a month since listing, and it’s been cut in half straight from $225. Short positions have piled up to 32% of the float. And there’s $25.0 billion worth of “ammo” blasting right in your face, yet you’re still there “buying the dip” and “adding to your position.” When the lockup expiration wave hits on August 6, 900 million shares will directly dump onto the market—that’s $116.0 billion of sell pressure. How do you expect to catch all that? The float is less than 5%—if any major shareholder wants to cash out, the stock price basically falls freely.

Even if Musk comes, it won’t help. I’ll tell you: even if Musk really shows up, it still won’t help. This stock is valued at over 100x sales and has been losing money consistently. ROE is -33%. The valuation is propped up entirely by the “space + AI” story. Once the story ends, where’s the money?

Starlink does make money, but can it support this big family—rockets, AI, and Twitter? What came out of that $60 billion Cursor acquisition deal? What’s the integration actually produced?

I’ll be blunt: SPCX will hit double digits. Under $100 is basically a lock. My short position is already maxed out, and I’ve got plenty of leverage. This lockup expiration wave is when I get rich. You longs keep chanting your mantras—I’ll keep counting my money. Later, when SPCX drops to $80 or $90, don’t blame me—I warned you. This isn’t Tesla—there’s no retail crowd saving the day. Only institutions dumping.

Musk? If he comes, he’ll end up crying too.

LOL, even the neighbor’s withdrawal feature costs money to purchase. It’s trash.

$DUSK These days the fluctuations aren’t that big, and it’s actually making me a bit unsure. When the market isn’t noisy, it’s usually either because there’s no narrative, or everyone’s waiting for something. Dusk has been talking about going down the path of compliance and privacy—different from those purely anonymous projects. What it wants is privacy that institutions can accept, with auditability and regulatory oversight. Honestly, this direction is quite timing-sensitive.

#dusk A lot of people below are still asking about the mainnet progress and staking. My own feeling is that the ecosystem isn’t at the stage where it can run on its own yet. With few on-chain applications, the money can only circulate within the token itself. Even if staking yields are high, if it’s basically just locking up supply and consuming liquidity, it can hold up in the short term—but in the long run you still need real assets or real business getting put on-chain. Without applications, gas demand won’t really ramp up, and buy-side demand is mostly just expectation.

@Dusk ’s bet on RWA and financial infrastructure makes sense logically. For traditional institutions to go on-chain, the biggest fear is data being exposed—compliance-grade privacy is almost a must. The hard part is how to get regulators to nod, and how to make developers willing to come in and deploy. As long as those two issues aren’t solved, the token is still mainly a sentiment asset. Look at how the market values it—high one moment, low the next—which shows people haven’t formed a consensus.

Sometimes I also wonder if I’m overthinking it. In a position like $DUSK , it’s more like waiting for a breakout in volume or a piece of news. Once it actually arrives and you chase in then, it’s a different story. For now, I can only observe with a small position and not do anything rash. Instead of watching other people shout orders, it’s better to check whether there are new contract deployments on-chain—those can’t really be faked.

Another point: the token unlock schedule. If liquidity suddenly increases while staking doesn’t keep up, the price will likely feel uncomfortable. You’ll need to look it up yourself—don’t rely on secondhand info.

That’s about it. No conclusion—just watching and thinking as I go.

Every time I open the official documentation for @Dusk , I feel a kind of security obsession that’s almost paranoid. Code audits, community votes—these seemingly procedural actions are, in reality, the entire team publicly dissecting itself. Traditional projects are used to a “one-time release,” while Dusk feels more like an iteration experiment that never stops—this is why I decided to keep a portion of $DUSK in my wallet, not for anything else, just so I can cast my vote in governance proposals and personally experience the weight of decisions.
What truly surprised me is the stability of Dusk’s privacy protocol in cross-chain scenarios. Once, during a cross-chain transfer, I only took a few steps, and the on-chain information was naturally obfuscated—so external observers couldn’t track it at all. In that moment, I realized that privacy shouldn’t be an academic concept locked away for later; it should be as natural as breathing, seamlessly integrated into every transaction. Real privacy should be effortless and smooth—something users shouldn’t have to intentionally do.
The community’s engagement is equally impressive. Whenever new features go live, developers hold an AMA in the community channel, answering questions one by one. I like joining these discussions because they often help me catch sight of where the project is heading next. This sense of transparency has given me even stronger confidence in the long-term value of $DUSK .
Looking back over these past few months, I’m growing more and more convinced that what the Dusk Foundation is building is an ecosystem of “privacy-as-a-service.” What it provides isn’t just technology—it’s also cultivating a group of users who truly know how to protect their own data. I’m excited to see more decentralized applications integrate Dusk’s privacy layer in the future, so that every on-chain interaction feels like a private conversation, not an open broadcast.
If you’re also interested in privacy technology, I recommend following @Dusk’s official channels, participating in community activities, and experiencing the features of $DUSK for yourself. In this decentralized world, let’s protect our data sovereignty together.#dusk

I’ve been thinking that the truly interesting part of $DUSK probably isn’t the word “privacy.”

There are many privacy chains, and there’s no shortage of compliance narratives, but most projects seem to stand at one of two ends: either hide everything, or lay everything bare. @Dusk wants to be more like that narrow middle path. Keep what needs to be confidential confidential, keep what should be transparent transparent—during authorized review, disclose selectively, and ensure settlement is definite and fast. This direction isn’t flashy, but it feels like what real finance actually needs.

With the DuskEVM mainnet coming soon, I’ll be paying more attention to Hedger. It’s not just adding a privacy layer to EVM; it integrates homomorphic encryption and zero-knowledge proofs into confidential transaction workflows. Developers can keep using familiar Solidity, while institutions don’t have to expose their positions, counterparties, and full trading logic. Whether it can run smoothly is crucial.

Dusk Trade is also worth watching. Money-market funds, ETFs, bonds, RWA—if it can truly complete issuance, trading, and settlement in the form of a compliant platform, then Dusk won’t just be infrastructure; it will be moving closer to the financial application itself. Add the Chainlink collaboration, participation from regulated entities, and the native issuance path, and the room for imagination really is opening up.

But I won’t rush to a conclusion. It’s not hard to make a technical narrative sound beautiful; what’s hard is asset scale, real users, and ongoing settlement volume. Next, there’s only one thing to look at: whether institutions have really moved their business processes onto it.

If they have, the story changes. #dusk

DuskEVM mainnet is coming soon. Honestly, this is more real than a bunch of chains just shouting RWA slogans.

I’ve always felt that the “privacy” narrative has been twisted. Either it’s fully transparent—anyone can dig through your positions—or it’s completely black-box, and when regulators knock, nobody answers. @Dusk offers the third option: Hedger-style stuff—homomorphic encryption plus zero-knowledge proofs. Transactions can be kept confidential, but when an authorized party needs to see, they can. Privacy that is auditable. The first time I saw that term I paused, then thought: yes, it should be like that.

What institutions want was never anonymity—it’s selective disclosure. You can’t really expect a brokerage to put clients’ positions on a public ledger.

And then there’s Dusk Trade. The neobroker route: money market funds, ETFs, and bonds are brought directly on-chain, aiming for true ownership and instant settlement. What I value isn’t how pretty the narrative is, but the fact that behind it stands a licensed exchange, with hundreds of millions of euros in assets lining up to be moved on-chain. Getting through the licensing path may be slow, but it’s workable.

One more judgment to put here: tokenization is just a layer of skin on top of old assets; native issuance is what moves the entire asset lifecycle onto the chain. Settlement certainty is something only the latter can truly offer. Dusk is betting on the latter.

$DUSK is this chain’s native token. I won’t guess the price—just the logic: if regulated on-chain finance really is the next stop, infrastructure will be more valuable than applications first.

Of course, before the mainnet actually runs, everything is just expectation. I’ll keep half my skepticism; we’ll see once it’s live.

#dusk

Is this liquidation or has it been de-centralized by someone?😱$APR

Musk’s “golden finger” has indeed gotten dull these past few years. Just look back at history: in 2021, a single tweet from him could send $DOGE surging by dozens of percentage points in one day. Saying on SNL, “Dogecoin is the people’s currency,” would instantly ignite the market. What about now? He mentions it now and then, but the market’s response is basically just token—those price pulses last only a few minutes before everything goes quiet. Diminishing marginal effects isn’t a guess; it’s written clearly in black and white on the candlestick chart.

So has the community been looking for the next spokesperson? Honestly, there were some hints, but none of them could take over. Vitalik occasionally praises DOGE’s technical simplicity, but he’s an ETH person—he comes with built-in “competing asset” bias. Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban did indeed sell tickets and merchandise using DOGE, but his hype has been more like a one-day news cycle. The real “grassroots spokesperson,” in fact, is a group of people—Reddit’s DogeArmy, the old Shiba-inu profile picture accounts on X, and the advisory team that got listed after the reorganization of the DOGE Foundation. But group representation has a fatal problem: without a single face, there’s no focal point, and the narrative density gets diluted.

That’s why Musk is irreplaceable—not because he’s rich or famous, but because three traits of his fit DOGE like a glove: rebelling against the mainstream, an addiction to memes/inside jokes, and having one-word-that-carries-weight authority. Public figures who have all three at once are almost nonexistent. Snoop Dogg? That’s more of a side project. As for the Wall Street crowd that deals with ETFs—nobody even touches DOGE. The “institutional spokesperson” route is basically dead.

So if you can’t find a new Musk, how does DOGE keep going? I think the answer is: stop looking for people; instead, reform the narrative itself. There are three paths. One is proof in payment use cases: even if X payments offers just one visible payment option, it does more than a hundred tweets. Two is turning the cultural label of “anti-elitist, for the people” into a long-term asset—making DOGE an index of retail sentiment rather than the shadow asset of any single person. Three is to simply outlast the cycles: Meme coins that make it through the third and fourth bull-and-bear rounds naturally carry a scarcity narrative.

In the end, the “de-Musk-ification” stress test of DOGE has already been quietly run by the market for two years. The result is: it hurts, it gets dull, but it doesn’t die. The real risk isn’t Musk leaving—it’s the community constantly waiting for a new story and treating “waiting for Musk to tweet” as their entire faith. That’s the real chronic illness.

As of today, August 8, DOGE is trading around $0.070. The greed/fear index is 29, and it’s still lying in the fear zone. Let’s use this data to talk about a “consensus” that has been beaten to death: rate cuts are bullish for Meme coins, and $DOGE has the greatest elasticity. Is that true? When you check the historical ledgers, the answer is: half correct, half just wishful thinking.

First, look at the best-looking data segment. In March 2020, the Federal Reserve carried out emergency rate cuts to zero plus unlimited quantitative easing (QE). Back then, DOGE was still hovering around $0.002. By May 2021, it surged to $0.74—up by several hundred times, massively outperforming BTC in that period by more than a dozen times. This round genuinely provides strong evidence for the “Meme elasticity” theory. But if you look closely at the timeline, you’ll see that DOGE really took off in early 2021, after Elon Musk started issuing frequent buy/sell calls—more than half a year after the rate cuts. Liquidity is the fuel, and Musk is the fire. Without that spark, pouring in even more fuel won’t make it burn.

Now, consider the counterexample. In September 2024, when the Fed began this round of rate cuts, with the first cut at 50 basis points, what did DOGE do? Basically nothing—it churned around the $0.1 level for more than a month. The real big move didn’t happen until after the November election was finalized and the narrative about Musk entering government took off. At the moment the rate cut was implemented, the market’s applause was sparse. In other words, easing is the background, not the trigger.

The data on the tightening side is cleaner and more straightforward. The hiking cycle began in March 2022. DOGE dropped more than 60% for the year, sliding from 0.17 all the way down to 0.05. Along the way, LUNA and FTX got hit with catastrophic events. Tightening kills Memes—there’s never an exception—because Meme coins are the most “outer” risk tail in the market. When liquidity gets pulled, the first thing to die is it.

So the real rule looks like this: during a hiking cycle, DOGE is essentially guaranteed to die—this is almost 100% true. During a cutting cycle, DOGE is likely to rise, but the magnitude of the increase and the timing depend entirely on whether there’s a narrative catalyst to go with it. In the 2019 preemptive rate cut, DOGE essentially played dead the whole time. In other words, tightening is the death sentence for DOGE; easing only gives it an application for bail—whether it gets released still depends on whether someone like Musk shows up to vouch.

Right now, the market is pricing in continued easing in the second half, yet DOGE is still lying at 0.07 as if asleep. The reason is simply that the “vouching” hasn’t arrived and the narrative hasn’t ignited. If you truly believe this “consensus,” rather than betting on rate cuts themselves, it’s better to focus on where the next spark—the next ignition fuse—will be lit.

DOGE vs BTC Lightning Network: The Battle for “Common-People Payments”

Lightning Network has made small payments of $BTC faster. But how much of the relative advantage of a “low-fee” setup like $DOGE is still left?

Let’s talk about a painful topic: the “common people payments” label that DOGE prides itself on is being dismantled by the Lightning Network, bit by bit.

First, the hard data. On-chain today, DOGE’s median transaction fee is about $0.0013, and the average is just around two cents. Blocks come roughly every minute—so yes, it’s cheap. But what about the Lightning Network? For a small payment, the routing fee is usually just a few satoshis; converted, it’s even below $0.001. And it’s confirmed in seconds, without having to wait for on-chain block confirmations. For the simple scenario of buying a cup of coffee, Lightning Network has already rubbed DOGE on the ground—lower cost, faster speed—and behind it all stands BTC’s trillion-dollar market-cap credibility as the foundation.

So what relative advantages does DOGE still have? I think there are two things left. First is simplicity. The Lightning Network still hasn’t solved the user-experience problem: opening channels, managing liquidity, finding nodes—ordinary retail users can’t really “play” it. In the end, everyone just goes to custodial wallets. What’s the difference from using Alipay? DOGE, by contrast, is a native Layer-1 transfer: scan a code and you’re done—no learning curve. Second is the psychological “account.” Nobody wants to pay for coffee with BTC—that’s “digital gold,” and spending it feels painful. DOGE costs about seven cents per unit; send ten thousand of them and nobody even blinks. That kind of psychological cue—“you can spend this freely”—is something BTC can never offer.

So the truth of this common-people payments showdown is this: technically, Lightning Network wins, but payment has never been only a technical problem. DOGE’s moat isn’t low fees—it’s the community consensus of “spending without burden.” The real threat isn’t Lightning Network; it’s stablecoins—that’s the tough player that could sideline both sides at once.

Every year on January 3rd, the Bitcoin community collectively indulges in nostalgia. The Times newspaper headline embedded in Satoshi Nakamoto’s genesis block—“The finance minister stands at the edge of the second round of bank bailouts”—is endlessly cited: miners clocking in, exchanges tweeting, and old OGs writing long essays. That date has become a religious rite. It carries an entire set of values: to fight fiat money, to resist the banking system, and to be born with a mission.

Now look at $DOGE : the first block was mined on December 6th, 2013. In the community, almost no one mentions this day. Search on Twitter—you won’t even find a dedicated hashtag. Every year when the date comes around, at most a handful of OGs post a passing remark of sentiment, and then that’s it.

It’s not that the community has poor memory; it’s that this date itself can’t hold up a myth. Bitcoin’s genesis block has dialogue. That newspaper headline gives Bitcoin’s birth a built-in script. In DOGE’s genesis block, there’s nothing at all—because when Palmer and Marcus wrote the code, they never intended to write some kind of manifesto. One was meant to mock crypto speculation, and the other was a joke put together over a weekend after three hours. With a joke’s opening, how do you ritualize it? You can’t solemnly and ceremonially commemorate a punchline.

But that’s exactly DOGE’s own myth of time—just with a different form. What Bitcoin commemorates is the starting point; what DOGE commemorates is being alive. To make it through to the next year is a miracle in itself: the founders sold all their coins and ran, the core development stalled for years, and mainstream culture treated it like a joke for twelve years. Its narrative isn’t “Where we came from,” but “How we’re still here.” So the way the DOGE community commemorates is to spontaneously flood memes, tip, and post Shiba Inu pictures around its birthday every year—lively and noisy—yet no one seriously marks a “Genesis Day.”

At around 8:00 a.m. on August 8th, DOGE was $0.069. Over 24 hours it dipped slightly, but the price was still in that dead-alive state. Meanwhile, the chain keeps running—one block every minute, running for nearly thirteen years.

In the end, there are two kinds of myths: one is carved into stone, and the other lives in a joke. $BTC chose the former, and $DOGE chose the latter. Stone can weather away, but as long as there are still people telling the joke, it won’t die.

Every year, thousands of meme coins appear; 99% of them go to zero. But $DOGE has managed to survive from 2013 until now. Its market cap is still over a billion dollars—its price just bounces around at about $0.07. You can’t explain that with luck alone. Looking through the lens of evolution, DOGE has a few very “hard” adaptive advantages.

First is early positioning—but not just being “early.” Back in 2013, it was the first coin to make “meme culture” its main business. It effectively occupied the entire niche—this meme track itself was later defined by DOGE. Even if latecomers are aggressive, they still compete on the territory DOGE has staked out. Like the founder effect in evolution, the first species doesn’t need to be the strongest; it just needs to secure the position.

Second, it has an unintuitive structural trait: no narrative pressure. Bitcoin has to wave the banner of “digital gold,” while Ethereum has to prove it can run applications. These grand narratives are all burdens—if they can’t be fulfilled, the market punishes them. DOGE doesn’t need to prove anything. It’s just a dog, and the community’s expectation for it is unbelievably low. So any bad news can’t break it. Since it never promised you anything, the market can’t declare it in default. In evolutionary terms, this is a low-energy survival strategy: when the environment is harsh, the species that consumes less energy tends to live longer.

Third is token decentralization and cultural penetration. It doesn’t have VC-style giant holdings. The chips have been swapped through three rounds of bull and bear markets, filtering out a very high proportion of stubborn “dead longs.” And the doge meme is a globally universal cultural symbol, not dependent on any single language community, so its传播基因—its spread-genetics—have always been there.

Of course, the $0.07 price is down about 90% from its highs, and the $0.068 support is still being tested repeatedly lately—so you can’t really say it’s “living comfortably.” But natural selection has never chosen the strongest; it chooses the least likely to die. Those flashy new meme coins live right at the very top of the attention economy. The moment the wind shifts, they go extinct. DOGE, meanwhile, lives at the bottom: clumsy, inflationary, with no story. Precisely because it has little to lose, it outlasts one batch of “better” competitors after another.

Let’s talk about a particularly mind-blowing phenomenon on $DOGE : at the 0.1 dollar level, it’s almost like it’s been welded into everyone’s brain. Now DOGE is hovering around 0.07—it's only about a little over 40% away from 0.1—but when you look at the order book and what people are discussing in the community, it’s wall-to-wall “I’ll break even when it returns to 0.1” and “Standing above 0.1 is when it’s really a bull market.” It’s as if this integer isn’t a price—it’s a psychological fortress wall.

Behavioral finance calls this the integer anchoring effect. People have a natural fixation on round numbers; limit orders, take-profits, and even memory of costs all pile onto those integers. DOGE amplifies this effect tenfold because the retail concentration is so high. There are two groups pressing on the area above 0.1: one group is trapped from last year’s slide from 0.12 and 0.2 all the way down—its cost basis gets pinned just around 0.1, so when they finally get back to breakeven, they sell into the bounce. The other group is the one that missed the move, waiting to buy only after “a breakthrough of 0.1 confirms the trend.” So every time price pushes through that level, it turns into a meat grinder. Back in April this year, it surged to 0.0948 and looked like it was almost there—just a little more—yet the trapped-break-even orders and profit-taking orders surged out together, slamming it back.

Even more uncanny: this fixation becomes self-fulfilling. The more people stare at 0.1, the thicker the order wall there becomes, making it harder to break through; and that, in turn, reinforces the consensus that “0.1 is important.” Market makers and quants love places like this—liquidity is dense, stop-losses are dense, and they get to harvest both sides as price swings back and forth.

So how do you break the deadlock? Grinding it down won’t work—you need a strike that hits at a liquidity level. For example, the whole market’s risk assets turning warmer together, or real incremental catalysts like an ETF or payment-related narrative landing—something that provides genuine “cash” demand. It needs to eat through the sell orders stacked on the wall in one go. Until then, 0.1 is DOGE’s inner demon, and it’s the best shield for the bears. As a bull, I’m not in a hurry. With things like these integer thresholds, the longer you grind, the more violent the day of the real break will be.

50 billion DOGE minted each year sounds scary, but the books need to add up clearly.

$DOGE current price is $0.070, with an annualized inflation rate of about 3.2%, and it decreases year by year. Put this number in the context of macro assets—it’s nothing outrageous. The expansion rate of the U.S. M2 has been consistently higher than that, and gold’s stock also grows at around 1.5%–2% per year.

DOGE’s fixed minting schedule guarantees miners always have enough to eat, and transaction fees stay cheap forever. As a coin designed to be used—"spend-first"—this setup is internally consistent.

But the downside is real too: BTC has the scarce narrative hook of the "halving," which DOGE doesn’t. The additional $350 million in sell pressure each year is fuel for the slow, steady grind downward during bear markets.

The conclusion isn’t either/or. DOGE can’t be digital gold, but it can be digital pocket money. The real issue is the demand side—if X platform integrates payments and usage ramps up, inflation becomes a reasonable cost; if nobody uses it, then it’s a dull knife.

Watch the $0.068 support level. If it breaks, look at $0.064; if it holds, stay in a sideways range and wait for the demand-side story to play out. On the supply side, this math was made clear thirteen years ago.

#DOGE #BTC #加密货币 #技术分析 #Market analysis

Let me speak from the heart to the long-side brothers of $SPCX for a few words: this move of yours is really pretty bleak.

You’re holding your post at the top with the stock price, and your accounts are so green they practically glow. Every day you rally each other in the comments—"hold on and victory will come." I just can’t watch it anymore. Bro, that isn’t called holding on—that’s called being trapped in the loss and not daring to admit it.
What you say is value investing, but what you’re really thinking about is when you’ll get back to breakeven. Those two things are not the same—stop fooling yourselves.

The key issue is that a release of shares is coming soon. Do you understand what “release” means? It means a bunch of guys whose costs are far lower than yours will be able—legally and compliantly—to dump their shares onto you. The price they got before the company listed was just a fraction of your entry price. When they start distributing shares, do you think they’ll care about your cost basis? Think again. Once the lock-up period ends, the supply side instantly increases by a huge chunk. Then where will the buyers come from? Rely on the little money in your pockets as retail investors? That’s not enough.

So I genuinely advise you: before the release, during any rebound, cut if you need to cut, admit it if you need to admit it. Cutting now is still “cutting meat.” Cutting after the release—that’s amputation. The nature is completely different.

As for me, my stance is very straightforward: I’m firmly going short, no games. Double-digit losses are only a matter of time. I even think there’s a chance double digits may not even be contained.
Some people will say, “What if Musk tweets something and moves the market?” Sorry—if he comes, it won’t help. Market capital is real. Short-term sentiment can’t rescue the fundamentals. One tweet can at most make shorts earn a round of forced-buy squeeze. After the bounce, it gets smashed back down. Haven’t you watched the Dogecoin script enough yet? When “sentiment assets” rise and fall, it’s always the ones chasing higher who end up losing.

Long-side brothers, listen to the advice—run. Don’t let sunk costs decide what your future position should be.

S&P 500 first tops the 7,700 mark—while the crypto table still hasn’t been set up for Bitcoin

Overnight, the U.S. stock market witnessed history again. The S&P 500 surged 1.79% to close at 7,736.52 points, the first time it has ever finished above 7,700; the Dow rocketed up 907 points to break 54,000; and the Nasdaq rose 2.59%. Leading the charge were chip stocks. The Philadelphia Semiconductor Index jumped 6.55% in a single day and extended its streak for four straight days. Optical communications and the storage sectors all exploded in unison. Coherent and Marvell rose more than 12%; Intel and SanDisk gained more than 10%; and the German and French stock indexes hit fresh records in parallel.

The confidence behind the new highs comes from both ends. In July, semiconductors were hit by a more-than-20% selloff; after valuation had been slashed, capital quickly flowed back into AI hardware. At the same time, earnings during the reporting season broadly beat expectations, prompting the market to re-price AI delivery as the main storyline. On the other side, hopes for a U.S.-Iran ceasefire and a temporary flight-agreement protocol have kept geopolitical risk in check. Oil prices fell more than 5% in a day, easing inflation worries—essentially loosening another tie for risk assets.

Against that backdrop, the crypto market is still stuck in place. Bitcoin is hovering around $64,000, with a 24-hour gain of less than 1%. Liquidity conditions, however, have shown some warmth: on August 4, U.S. spot Bitcoin ETFs saw net inflows of more than $170 million. BlackRock’s IBIT alone pulled in $111 million, nearly matching the total inflows for all of July. Still, the awkwardness can’t be hidden—Bitcoin is down more than 40% versus the same period last year (about $114,000). It is also close to being cut in half from its Oct 12, 2025 peak of $126,000. $ETH is only around $1,870. The ratio of the S&P versus $BTC has just broken above its long-term moving average, and there are signs that the 14-year trend may be turning.

The core contradiction is straightforward: both are playing the same “rate-cut expectations and risk appetite” theme, yet U.S. stocks have already taken off, while crypto is still pinned to the floor. Institutions are indeed slowly accumulating through ETFs, but the hot money inside the market clearly prefers the story of AI stocks. For Bitcoin to regain outperformance, propping from ETFs alone isn’t enough. It either needs liquidity to truly turn, or it needs the profitability effect from U.S. equities to spill over. In this new-high celebration, crypto is only following along to sip a bit of the soup.

Why is Dogecoin’s logo a Shiba Inu?

This story is pretty funny. Dogecoin wasn’t a “real” project at all in the beginning.

Back in 2013, when Bitcoin was just starting to blow up online, two programmers—Jackson Palmer and Billy Markus—noticed that the crypto community was getting more and more serious and self-important. So they decided to pull a prank: how about making a coin that’s about as unlikely to succeed as possible to mock the whole industry?

So what should they use as a mascot? At the time, a meme called “Doge” was really popular—an image of a Shiba Inu, paired with multicolored Comic Sans text, full of various inner monologues like “so wow,” “much amaze,” “very scare,” and the like. That Shiba Inu is named Kabosu. It was a stray dog adopted by a kindergarten teacher in Japan. The photo, combined with awkward English, is oddly amusing—and 2013 was exactly when this meme was at peak popularity.

So the two of them simply took the meme and turned it into the coin’s logo. The name is $DOGE , and the icon is that famous Shiba Inu’s side profile. They even called mining “digging” and wallets “dogehouse.” From the inside out, the whole project gives off this vibe of: “I’m here to be funny.”

But the most ironic part is that what started as a joke coin meant to mock the crypto world actually became popular beyond expectations. Because the Shiba Inu image is so relatable and down-to-earth, and the community atmosphere is especially friendly, it somehow “broke out” into the mainstream. People look at other coins and see cold, icy tech vibes—while Dogecoin feels like that dumb-but-adorable dog from downstairs at your place: low barrier, no pretension. Tips and charity fundraising are even done using it.

So why a Shiba Inu? At first it was purely a meme—yet this Shiba Inu somehow managed to carry a joke into a “serious” cryptocurrency with a market value in the billions. Sometimes the world is just that absurd: the things you take seriously get ignored, but the jokes you make turn into something big.