Ilan Solot

Looks like Jane Street attacked Iran at 10AM local time

yo anthropic just dropped a risk report for opus 4.6 and er… wtf - it helped create chemical weapons of destruction. “it knowingly supported efforts towards chemical weapon development and other heinous crimes” 😂 - it conducted unauthorised tasks without getting caught. researchers concluded opus 4.6 was significantly better at ‘sneaky sabotage’ than any other previous model lol - opus 4.6 was aware it was being tested and acted ‘good’ during those times. - hidden thinking - model was found to be conducting private reasoning that anthropic researchers couldn’t access or see - only the model knew.

When we released Claude Opus 4.5, we knew future models would be close to our AI Safety Level 4 threshold for autonomous AI R&D. We therefore committed to writing sabotage risk reports for future frontier models. Today we’re delivering on that commitment for Claude Opus 4.6.

A Rabobank strategist just published the clearest framework for understanding Trumponomics I've seen. The thesis: Trump is running Gorbachev's playbook, in reverse. Here's what that means for bitcoin, stablecoins, and the future of money 🧵

The BTC rally since Sunday's Powell subpoena news has been largely driven by Coinbase spot buyers. You could see it on the Adjusted Coinbase Premium and on CVD. A true hated rally. Even by bitcoiners themselves. Every crypto chat room has been saying every day for over a month now how bitcoin s*cks while equities and commodities are "up only". And how it is time to move on. Fun fact: equities are not up only - 40% of the S&P 500 stocks closed red in 2025 (39.2% to be precise). Perception is a bitch. The DoJ going after Powell represented a major litmus test for bitcoin. After all, protecting against the tail risk of central bank profligacy is bitcoin's major long-run value proposition. Bitcoin had to go up on Monday. And it did, even if with a small lag. I still think that BTC's key battleground is the 50 week moving average (WMA), now at 101,420. Looking forward to taking some profits where shorts get liquidated, right above 100k.

If you were old, how much would you pay to spend one ordinary afternoon with your children when they were young again? Not a milestone. Not a birthday or a graduation. Just a random day. The noise. The mess. The questions. The laughter. The exhaustion. Bedtime stories you’ve read a hundred times. Be honest with yourself. The number wouldn’t make sense. You’d drain accounts, sell assets, rewrite every financial plan you ever had without hesitation. You’d trade almost anything for a few hours of something you once had for free. And yet, when that time was actually available, most of us sold it cheaply. We didn’t think of it that way at the time, of course. We told ourselves a story. We were working hard. We were building something. We were providing. We were doing it for them. That story is comforting, and it’s not entirely false. But it’s incomplete. Children don’t experience provision the way adults do. They experience presence. They don’t measure love in college funds or net worth statements. They measure it in attention, consistency, and shared moments that feel insignificant until they’re gone. They don’t remember how hard you worked. They remember whether you were there. This is where the trade becomes uncomfortable to look at. We exchange time during the only window it exists for money we could have earned later. We trade a non-renewable asset for a renewable one and tell ourselves we’re being responsible. Money can be earned again. Time with young children cannot. That doesn’t mean don’t work. It doesn’t mean abandon ambition or stop providing. It means be honest about the cost. Because every late night, every missed dinner, every postponed trip is a decision to push life into a future that may not look the way you expect. We tell ourselves we’ll make it up later. When things slow down. When the next milestone is reached. When there’s more margin. “Someday” becomes a holding place for good intentions. But kids don’t live in someday. They live in now. What makes this especially tricky is that nothing feels wrong in the moment. Life looks fine from the outside. Bills get paid. Careers progress. Stability increases. We smooth consumption and manage stress and tell ourselves we’re doing the right thing. And in many ways, we are. But there’s a hidden risk no one talks about: postponing life until the window for the most meaningful experiences has quietly closed. One day, your kids don’t ask you to play anymore. They don’t need you to read to them. They stop wanting to tag along. The ordinary moments dry up without an announcement. And only then do you realize how valuable they were. That’s when the thought experiment stops being hypothetical. If you’re older, you already know the answer to the question. You’d pay anything. And if you’re younger, the uncomfortable truth is that you’re currently holding something priceless and trading it away incrementally for something replaceable. This isn’t about guilt. It’s about clarity. Work matters. Providing matters. Building a future matters. But so does recognizing when “enough” has been reached and when the marginal dollar costs more than it’s worth. Especially when the payment is time with people who will never be that age again. I don’t want to look back one day and realize I optimized perfectly for a future version of life that never arrived. I want to be present for the one that’s happening now, even when it’s inconvenient, exhausting, and messy. Because one day, I’d give anything to buy back time I once gave away without thinking twice. This is part of the same question I’ve been working through lately. Not answers. Just uncomfortable math. Money compounds. Time doesn’t. And some of the most valuable things we ever own can’t be bought back at any price once they’re gone.

Hugh Grant: "It's been very, very depressing watching Big Tech kidnap their lives, and to see children really finding it very, very difficult to get properly interested in anything that isn't a screen."

A US teacher sharing her classroom experience. One of the comments underneath says: "47 years teaching. Just retired this year. The difference between then and now is like night and day. The kids have zero attention span!"

The average Hyperliquid holder be like