Letâs talk about the memecoin cycle. Forget utility, forget long-term vision, forget even coherent narratives. This cycle, in its purest form, wasnât about any of that.
It was about one thing: being early.
The spark wasnât just generic market momentum. It was more specific. Late 2023: Bitcoin ETF filings hinted at institutional money entering crypto. Solana, after FTX, staged a defiant comeback. That was the ignition â renewed legitimacy and a recovery story.
Traditional altcoins felt stale. Many carried bear market baggage. VC-backed projects, with roadmaps and whitepapers, often had valuations that felt⊠engineered, more exit strategy than excitement.
Memecoins offered something different: raw, unfiltered, fun. Anti-VC coin. No whitepaper, often no website. Just a meme, a ticker, a launch. The allure was in the simplicity, the risk. Memecoins became the ultimate âbeta playâ on steroids, precisely because traditional alts felt so⊠predictable.
If BTC could 2x on ETF hype, and SOL was rising from the ashes, maybe a dog coin with no purpose could 100x. Thatâs the spark: ETF optimism, SOLâs comeback, weariness with VC alts.
Then came BONK.
BONK wasnât sophisticated, not profoundly meme-able. But it was first to catch this energy. People saw movement, saw gains, and a basic understanding formed: something is happening. This is different. This is fast.
Initially, âearlyâ wasnât the conscious goal. More like, âThis is volatile, maybe a small bet.â But BONKâs run, explosive then predictably volatile, started to define the game, subconsciously.
The meta shifted. The crypto brain processed it: âMemecoins are a game. The game is finding the next BONK, but better.â
âBetterâ wasnât tech or teams. âBetterâ amplified virality. How? At this early stage, with the memecoin meta still nascent, the options for differentiation were surprisingly limited. There werenât endless sophisticated strategies or complex narratives to choose from. In fact, the very pool of readily available, internet-native memes was relatively small. You werenât choosing from thousands of options; you were picking from a handful that resonated on a gut level.
And in that limited selection, what stood out? Absurdity.
âBetter,â in this context, became synonymous with âmore absurd.â Because in a still-undeveloped memecoin landscape, absurdity was a potent signal. It was attention-grabbing. It was inherently shareable. And crucially, in a market still figuring out what a âgoodâ memecoin even was, humor and immediate, visceral laughter became a powerful selection mechanism.
Enter Dogwifhat (WIF).
âWif hat.â Misspelled, pointless Shiba Inu in a hat. Peak internet absurdity. And in that, for many, the immediate reaction was laughter. It was just funny. And in that humor, in that absurdity, there was a signal:
âThis is new. This is fresh. This is⊠early?â
The game clarified, intuitively. Not just finding a memecoin, but the one that goes viral before itâs viral. Capturing the zeitgeist, the internet joke, the fleeting absurdity. And in those early days, in that limited meme pool, the coins that made people laugh the loudest, the most absurdly, were the ones that naturally rose to the top.
To find that coin, you had to be early.
The meta iterated fast. âEarlyâ wasnât just post-launch timing. Too late. True âearlyâ was pre-launch. Before the masses, the hype, the pump.
Tools like Photon and âmemescopeâ emerged. The game became tactical. Traders lived on memescope â Photonâs tab for new memecoin listings. The meta: memescope all day, refresh, snipe launches, be the first buyer. Pure âearlyâ optimization â speed, reflexes, hours staring at a screen.
âMemescope metaâ was still presented as somewhat democratized â anyone with the tools and time could theoretically play. But beneath the surface, a darker dynamic was emerging: the rise of âinsidersâ who were actively manufacturing memecoins and manipulating the very metrics that memescope traders relied on.
These werenât always organic, grassroots movements. Increasingly, memecoins were being strategically engineered for profit. These insiders would:
The memescope traders truly felt as though they were winning the game of âbeing earlyâ despite being one step behind the crowd truly capturing the most value.
These two key aspects of the memecoin game â absurdity becoming the driver of viral adoption, and insiders recognizing the âearlyâ game and manufacturing exit liquidity â were now poised to reach their final boss stages.
For those actively trying to create the ânext WIFâ â the next memecoin to achieve escape velocity â a crucial realization dawned: to get the masses to buy your memecoin, you needed to capture their fleeting attention. And in the memecoin arena, attention wasnât won through complex narratives or technological promises. It was seized through sheer, undeniable spectacle. The pursuit of âearlyâ now fully embraced this understanding: it wasnât just about speed or even absurdity in isolation; it was about strategically engineering peak absurdity as the ultimate attention-grabbing mechanism.
This is where Fartcoin entered the stage.
Fartcoin. Think about it from the perspective of a memecoin creator aiming for mass adoption. What could be a more surefire way to grab attention than launching a token called âFartcoinâ? It wasnât merely absurd; it was universally, instantly absurd. The very name was a guaranteed conversation starter, a clickbait headline waiting to happen. It was seemingly designed, with laser precision, to manufacture the kind of sensational news that would cut through the internet noise: âLook at this idiotic thing people are throwing money at!â
Fartcoin became the ultimate experiment in attention economics within the memecoin world. It wasnât just another token launch; it was a deliberate, almost cynical, attempt to weaponize absurdity for mass attention. It served as a stark, and perhaps hilarious, proof of concept: in the memecoin game, especially when aiming for true âescape velocityâ and mainstream adoption, peak absurdity wasnât just a desirable trait â it was the core marketing strategy, distilled to its purest and most provocative form.
Can there be a more absurd meme than Fartcoin?
Then, building on the manipulative tactics already seen in the memescope era, a more fundamental realization was taking hold: the era of purely absurd animal meme coins, while initially explosive, was becoming unsustainable. The market was getting smarter.
The meta needed a new angle, a veneer of legitimacy. This is when we saw the rise of âsubstanceâ memes â coins with narratives that, while still memetic at their core, could be justified with a thin layer of plausible deniability. Enter the AI coin meta. Suddenly, buying a memecoin wasnât just about a dog with a hat; it was about âinvestingâ in the future of artificial intelligence! This provided a reason to buy, however flimsy, beyond pure absurdity.
But beneath this shift in thematic dressing, the core mechanics of the game, and the role of the insiders, remained. The alpha was still information asymmetry. These insider groups simply adapted, leveraging their early access to information in this new meta. They knew about AI coin launches before anyone else, and they continued to exploit that advantage.
This evolution culminated in the celebrity memecoin meta. The insiders realized that the ultimate way to engineer viral launches and guarantee exit liquidity was to partner with prominent figures â celebrities. These celebrities, often with massive reach but limited crypto understanding, became the front for these insider operations. And crucially, these insiders, still operating in the shadows, would often present themselves as simply âbetter traders,â subtly (or not so subtly) implying that their outsized gains were due to skill, not information advantage, further fueling the frustration of average participants who were increasingly locked out of the âearlyâ game.
The âInsider Game,â in its most cynical and transparent form, was now fully revealed, encompassing:
After this shift towards engineering viral absurdity and controlling launch narratives became prominent, and after Fartcoin had demonstrated the raw power of peak absurdity, came TRUMP coin.
TRUMP. Biggest meme on the planet? Suddenly, even engineered absurdity felt less relevant. How do you out-absurd Trump in terms of headline potential? Unlikely.
Step into the shoes of a memecoin trader at the moment TRUMP launched. Anyone paying attention could see it was an insider launch. Eighty percent of the token supply transparently locked for insiders. On-chain data screamed of token snipers and pre-launch access. It shouldâve have mattered. But it didnât matter. This was Trump. The elected President of the United States. The memecoin of all memecoins. The celebrity coin to end all celebrity coins. Of course you bought it. This felt like a new paradigm. The insider game was obvious, but for Trump, it was irrelevant. This was too big to ignore.
Then, the launch of MELANIA.
And it was like the air was sucked out of the room. Everyone in the club suddenly got sober. The insider game, so blatant with TRUMP, was now utterly, inescapably exposed with Melania. The mechanics were identical, the cash grab even more transparent. The difference? With TRUMP, the meme magnitude had briefly overridden the cynicism. With Melania, there was nothing left to override.
The insider game that had been revealed all along, but while people had chosen not to care before, now, with Melania, they really cared. The emperor had no clothes. The cycle was broken.
TRUMP coin became the ultimate case study in another way as well: the clearest possible example of the insider game reaching its apex. It wasnât just a meme; it was a political and cultural force, launched with an aura of insider access and pre-ordained success.
Can there be a bigger, more transparent insider game than Trump and Melania coins?
And this whole memecoin cycle⊠it echoes something familiar, doesnât it? Go back to 2021, and the NFT craze.
The spark then? ETHâs rise, fueled by the DeFi summer. NFTs emerged as the âbeta playâ on ETH, the riskier, higher-upside bet.
The meta quickly coalesced around PFP projects. âCommunityâ became the buzzword, but really, the game was about finding the next Bored Ape, the project that would explode in value and cultural cachet.
And just like with memecoins, people realized: the game is being early. But in NFTs, âearlyâ meant grinding for whitelists. Discord grinding, Twitter engagement, endless tasks â whitelist grinding became the NFT equivalent of constantly refreshing memescope, a relentless pursuit of pre-launch access.
The optimization for âearlyâ escalated. People realized the earliest you could be was the creator. And soon, celebrities jumped in.
You had Steph Curry and Jimmy Fallon flexing seven-figure JPEGs, and Logan Paul blatantly scamming his audience. Who the hell was next? It felt like the NFT space, too, had reached a kind of celebrity-driven peak, a point of meta exhaustion.
And speaking of cycles turning⊠NELK, who seemed to mark a certain peak of celebrity NFT hype in 2021, just launched their own memecoin, Fullsend. If that isnât a sign, what is?
The parallels are striking. Different asset class, same underlying game: the relentless, ultimately self-consuming pursuit of âearly.â At a certain point, thereâs no possible place for the game to evolve; you need to reset the game entirely.
And in the wake of the memecoin cycle, and echoing the tail end of the NFT craze, we see coins like LIBRA launch, with people seemingly throwing their entire portfolios in, desperately hoping to recapture the magic of the TRUMP trade. Itâs a classic sign of what George Soros called the âtwilight zoneâ in market cycles. As Soros observed, this is the phase where âpeople continue to play the game although they no longer believe in it.â The underlying belief in the magic of âearlyâ is eroding, but the ingrained habit of chasing memecoin pumps persists.
Soros warned that âeventually a crossover or tipping point is reached, when the trend turns down and the bias is reversed, which leads to a catastrophic downward acceleration (8), commonly known as the crash.â
So, you have to ask yourself: are there any iterations of this meta left? Any more levels to this game?
Can there be a more absurd meme than Fartcoin?
Can there be a bigger, more transparent insider game than Trump and Melania coins?
Probably not. Not in this cycle, anyway.
The memecoin cycle, defined by the relentless âearlyâ pursuit, likely has run its course. Fueled by hype, absurdity, âearlyâ promise. But like all hype cycles, itâs inherently self-consuming. The âearlyâ quest undermined itself as mechanics became clear, illusion faded.
But the human âbe earlyâ impulse remains. Baked into crypto psychology.
This memecoin cycle might be over, but the desire remains. The game will likely return, maybe with new rules, new absurdity, new players eager to be⊠you guessed it⊠early.
Stay safe out there friends.
æ ªåŒ
å 容
Letâs talk about the memecoin cycle. Forget utility, forget long-term vision, forget even coherent narratives. This cycle, in its purest form, wasnât about any of that.
It was about one thing: being early.
The spark wasnât just generic market momentum. It was more specific. Late 2023: Bitcoin ETF filings hinted at institutional money entering crypto. Solana, after FTX, staged a defiant comeback. That was the ignition â renewed legitimacy and a recovery story.
Traditional altcoins felt stale. Many carried bear market baggage. VC-backed projects, with roadmaps and whitepapers, often had valuations that felt⊠engineered, more exit strategy than excitement.
Memecoins offered something different: raw, unfiltered, fun. Anti-VC coin. No whitepaper, often no website. Just a meme, a ticker, a launch. The allure was in the simplicity, the risk. Memecoins became the ultimate âbeta playâ on steroids, precisely because traditional alts felt so⊠predictable.
If BTC could 2x on ETF hype, and SOL was rising from the ashes, maybe a dog coin with no purpose could 100x. Thatâs the spark: ETF optimism, SOLâs comeback, weariness with VC alts.
Then came BONK.
BONK wasnât sophisticated, not profoundly meme-able. But it was first to catch this energy. People saw movement, saw gains, and a basic understanding formed: something is happening. This is different. This is fast.
Initially, âearlyâ wasnât the conscious goal. More like, âThis is volatile, maybe a small bet.â But BONKâs run, explosive then predictably volatile, started to define the game, subconsciously.
The meta shifted. The crypto brain processed it: âMemecoins are a game. The game is finding the next BONK, but better.â
âBetterâ wasnât tech or teams. âBetterâ amplified virality. How? At this early stage, with the memecoin meta still nascent, the options for differentiation were surprisingly limited. There werenât endless sophisticated strategies or complex narratives to choose from. In fact, the very pool of readily available, internet-native memes was relatively small. You werenât choosing from thousands of options; you were picking from a handful that resonated on a gut level.
And in that limited selection, what stood out? Absurdity.
âBetter,â in this context, became synonymous with âmore absurd.â Because in a still-undeveloped memecoin landscape, absurdity was a potent signal. It was attention-grabbing. It was inherently shareable. And crucially, in a market still figuring out what a âgoodâ memecoin even was, humor and immediate, visceral laughter became a powerful selection mechanism.
Enter Dogwifhat (WIF).
âWif hat.â Misspelled, pointless Shiba Inu in a hat. Peak internet absurdity. And in that, for many, the immediate reaction was laughter. It was just funny. And in that humor, in that absurdity, there was a signal:
âThis is new. This is fresh. This is⊠early?â
The game clarified, intuitively. Not just finding a memecoin, but the one that goes viral before itâs viral. Capturing the zeitgeist, the internet joke, the fleeting absurdity. And in those early days, in that limited meme pool, the coins that made people laugh the loudest, the most absurdly, were the ones that naturally rose to the top.
To find that coin, you had to be early.
The meta iterated fast. âEarlyâ wasnât just post-launch timing. Too late. True âearlyâ was pre-launch. Before the masses, the hype, the pump.
Tools like Photon and âmemescopeâ emerged. The game became tactical. Traders lived on memescope â Photonâs tab for new memecoin listings. The meta: memescope all day, refresh, snipe launches, be the first buyer. Pure âearlyâ optimization â speed, reflexes, hours staring at a screen.
âMemescope metaâ was still presented as somewhat democratized â anyone with the tools and time could theoretically play. But beneath the surface, a darker dynamic was emerging: the rise of âinsidersâ who were actively manufacturing memecoins and manipulating the very metrics that memescope traders relied on.
These werenât always organic, grassroots movements. Increasingly, memecoins were being strategically engineered for profit. These insiders would:
The memescope traders truly felt as though they were winning the game of âbeing earlyâ despite being one step behind the crowd truly capturing the most value.
These two key aspects of the memecoin game â absurdity becoming the driver of viral adoption, and insiders recognizing the âearlyâ game and manufacturing exit liquidity â were now poised to reach their final boss stages.
For those actively trying to create the ânext WIFâ â the next memecoin to achieve escape velocity â a crucial realization dawned: to get the masses to buy your memecoin, you needed to capture their fleeting attention. And in the memecoin arena, attention wasnât won through complex narratives or technological promises. It was seized through sheer, undeniable spectacle. The pursuit of âearlyâ now fully embraced this understanding: it wasnât just about speed or even absurdity in isolation; it was about strategically engineering peak absurdity as the ultimate attention-grabbing mechanism.
This is where Fartcoin entered the stage.
Fartcoin. Think about it from the perspective of a memecoin creator aiming for mass adoption. What could be a more surefire way to grab attention than launching a token called âFartcoinâ? It wasnât merely absurd; it was universally, instantly absurd. The very name was a guaranteed conversation starter, a clickbait headline waiting to happen. It was seemingly designed, with laser precision, to manufacture the kind of sensational news that would cut through the internet noise: âLook at this idiotic thing people are throwing money at!â
Fartcoin became the ultimate experiment in attention economics within the memecoin world. It wasnât just another token launch; it was a deliberate, almost cynical, attempt to weaponize absurdity for mass attention. It served as a stark, and perhaps hilarious, proof of concept: in the memecoin game, especially when aiming for true âescape velocityâ and mainstream adoption, peak absurdity wasnât just a desirable trait â it was the core marketing strategy, distilled to its purest and most provocative form.
Can there be a more absurd meme than Fartcoin?
Then, building on the manipulative tactics already seen in the memescope era, a more fundamental realization was taking hold: the era of purely absurd animal meme coins, while initially explosive, was becoming unsustainable. The market was getting smarter.
The meta needed a new angle, a veneer of legitimacy. This is when we saw the rise of âsubstanceâ memes â coins with narratives that, while still memetic at their core, could be justified with a thin layer of plausible deniability. Enter the AI coin meta. Suddenly, buying a memecoin wasnât just about a dog with a hat; it was about âinvestingâ in the future of artificial intelligence! This provided a reason to buy, however flimsy, beyond pure absurdity.
But beneath this shift in thematic dressing, the core mechanics of the game, and the role of the insiders, remained. The alpha was still information asymmetry. These insider groups simply adapted, leveraging their early access to information in this new meta. They knew about AI coin launches before anyone else, and they continued to exploit that advantage.
This evolution culminated in the celebrity memecoin meta. The insiders realized that the ultimate way to engineer viral launches and guarantee exit liquidity was to partner with prominent figures â celebrities. These celebrities, often with massive reach but limited crypto understanding, became the front for these insider operations. And crucially, these insiders, still operating in the shadows, would often present themselves as simply âbetter traders,â subtly (or not so subtly) implying that their outsized gains were due to skill, not information advantage, further fueling the frustration of average participants who were increasingly locked out of the âearlyâ game.
The âInsider Game,â in its most cynical and transparent form, was now fully revealed, encompassing:
After this shift towards engineering viral absurdity and controlling launch narratives became prominent, and after Fartcoin had demonstrated the raw power of peak absurdity, came TRUMP coin.
TRUMP. Biggest meme on the planet? Suddenly, even engineered absurdity felt less relevant. How do you out-absurd Trump in terms of headline potential? Unlikely.
Step into the shoes of a memecoin trader at the moment TRUMP launched. Anyone paying attention could see it was an insider launch. Eighty percent of the token supply transparently locked for insiders. On-chain data screamed of token snipers and pre-launch access. It shouldâve have mattered. But it didnât matter. This was Trump. The elected President of the United States. The memecoin of all memecoins. The celebrity coin to end all celebrity coins. Of course you bought it. This felt like a new paradigm. The insider game was obvious, but for Trump, it was irrelevant. This was too big to ignore.
Then, the launch of MELANIA.
And it was like the air was sucked out of the room. Everyone in the club suddenly got sober. The insider game, so blatant with TRUMP, was now utterly, inescapably exposed with Melania. The mechanics were identical, the cash grab even more transparent. The difference? With TRUMP, the meme magnitude had briefly overridden the cynicism. With Melania, there was nothing left to override.
The insider game that had been revealed all along, but while people had chosen not to care before, now, with Melania, they really cared. The emperor had no clothes. The cycle was broken.
TRUMP coin became the ultimate case study in another way as well: the clearest possible example of the insider game reaching its apex. It wasnât just a meme; it was a political and cultural force, launched with an aura of insider access and pre-ordained success.
Can there be a bigger, more transparent insider game than Trump and Melania coins?
And this whole memecoin cycle⊠it echoes something familiar, doesnât it? Go back to 2021, and the NFT craze.
The spark then? ETHâs rise, fueled by the DeFi summer. NFTs emerged as the âbeta playâ on ETH, the riskier, higher-upside bet.
The meta quickly coalesced around PFP projects. âCommunityâ became the buzzword, but really, the game was about finding the next Bored Ape, the project that would explode in value and cultural cachet.
And just like with memecoins, people realized: the game is being early. But in NFTs, âearlyâ meant grinding for whitelists. Discord grinding, Twitter engagement, endless tasks â whitelist grinding became the NFT equivalent of constantly refreshing memescope, a relentless pursuit of pre-launch access.
The optimization for âearlyâ escalated. People realized the earliest you could be was the creator. And soon, celebrities jumped in.
You had Steph Curry and Jimmy Fallon flexing seven-figure JPEGs, and Logan Paul blatantly scamming his audience. Who the hell was next? It felt like the NFT space, too, had reached a kind of celebrity-driven peak, a point of meta exhaustion.
And speaking of cycles turning⊠NELK, who seemed to mark a certain peak of celebrity NFT hype in 2021, just launched their own memecoin, Fullsend. If that isnât a sign, what is?
The parallels are striking. Different asset class, same underlying game: the relentless, ultimately self-consuming pursuit of âearly.â At a certain point, thereâs no possible place for the game to evolve; you need to reset the game entirely.
And in the wake of the memecoin cycle, and echoing the tail end of the NFT craze, we see coins like LIBRA launch, with people seemingly throwing their entire portfolios in, desperately hoping to recapture the magic of the TRUMP trade. Itâs a classic sign of what George Soros called the âtwilight zoneâ in market cycles. As Soros observed, this is the phase where âpeople continue to play the game although they no longer believe in it.â The underlying belief in the magic of âearlyâ is eroding, but the ingrained habit of chasing memecoin pumps persists.
Soros warned that âeventually a crossover or tipping point is reached, when the trend turns down and the bias is reversed, which leads to a catastrophic downward acceleration (8), commonly known as the crash.â
So, you have to ask yourself: are there any iterations of this meta left? Any more levels to this game?
Can there be a more absurd meme than Fartcoin?
Can there be a bigger, more transparent insider game than Trump and Melania coins?
Probably not. Not in this cycle, anyway.
The memecoin cycle, defined by the relentless âearlyâ pursuit, likely has run its course. Fueled by hype, absurdity, âearlyâ promise. But like all hype cycles, itâs inherently self-consuming. The âearlyâ quest undermined itself as mechanics became clear, illusion faded.
But the human âbe earlyâ impulse remains. Baked into crypto psychology.
This memecoin cycle might be over, but the desire remains. The game will likely return, maybe with new rules, new absurdity, new players eager to be⊠you guessed it⊠early.
Stay safe out there friends.