Intuit Urged to Hoard Bitcoin Before AI Turns Them Into Digital Roadkill 🚀

by

In the howling corridors of American commerce, where hope and bureaucracy play endless tug-of-war, one Matt Cole—herald, perhaps, of a new and cryptic gospel—has stumbled from GameStop’s flickering neon kingdom right into the sterile, fluorescent-lit labyrinths of Intuit. The struggle? Not for bread, nor warmth, but for Bitcoin—the digital bread, one might say, granting a kind of warmth only felt in the icy, haunted servers of late capitalism.

On the fateful date of April 14, Cole’s missive, loaded with open-ended wisdom and perhaps a trace of caffeine-induced bravado, found its way to the desk of Sasan Goodarzi, Intuit’s chief—a man who, we can only guess, woke that morning dreaming of spreadsheets and not revolutions. Cole, marveling at Intuit’s robust growth (“Admirable!” he intones, in the tone of a man forced to admire from afar), insists—nay, prophesies—that only Bitcoin can shield them from a fate worse than death: being replaced by artificial intelligence. An irony as heavy as a Siberian night, since Intuit had recently laid off a tenth of its workers, all in pursuit of that same silicon dream.

Tall words—words grand enough to echo off the walls of empty cubicles. Cole, armed with data, logic, and perhaps the ghost of Marx shaking his head, argues that TurboTax, QuickBooks—the very soldiers in Intuit’s ancient war on paperwork—now teeter on the precipice, threatened by the relentless, tireless hand of AI. What does he prescribe? Not unionization. Not prayer. No: Bitcoin. A war chest! “Hedge your future in Satoshi’s arms,” Cole seems to say, as if bitcoins themselves could fend off the march of mechanized accountants. Who would have guessed “strategic capital for the AI storm” would fit so neatly within a tweet? đŸ“‰đŸ’žđŸ€–

Cole, not content with unsettling just one behemoth of American industry, recalls with evident pride the time he wrote, in beautiful bureaucratic prose, to GameStop’s own chieftain, Ryan Cohen. “Buy Bitcoin with your $4.6 billion in cash,” he said—an idea so radical it somehow made it into a regulatory filing, with Cohen dutifully reporting a new $1.5 billion converted into…future? Fortune? Or meme-fueled oblivion?

But Cole is not just tilting at windmills. He demands buttoned-up Intuit to loosen its tie regarding crypto in the echoing halls of its Mailchimp subsidiary, reminding all that freedom is best served with a side of unregulated enthusiasm. Why must the “crypto-friendly” be perpetually exiled from newsletters about “the coming blockchain century?” Cole wonders if Intuit’s quiet de-platforming amounts to the same kind of censorship that once drove writers to samizdat and exile—though thankfully here, exile merely makes you start a Substack.

Of course, Mailchimp insists: “We don’t automatically ban crypto!” They carve out legalisms for “offerings” and “exchanges,” perhaps hoping to split hairs faster than a high-frequency trader splits atoms. All these policies, Cole claims, were born in an age when crypto was an outlaw, with the law always at its heels. But the mood from Washington has changed—loosen up, Intuit! The winds from Pennsylvania Avenue blow a little more orange these days.

And Intuit? They respond as so many bureaucratic fortresses do when faced with unsolicited advice and visionary manifestos: by not responding at all. In the silence, perhaps, is both wisdom and a touch of fear. Or maybe they’re just rebooting.

Read More

2025-04-16 05:42