Infinite Money Glitch

How Artizen turns belief into capital—and builds a perpetual motion machine for creativity.

In crypto, there’s a term of art: infinite money glitch. It’s the holy grail—a hypnotic feedback loop that seems to print money forever.

Mostly they’re scams. But every now and then, you get a breakthrough.

The bad kind you already know: ponzinomics like BitConnect, reflexive death spirals like Terra/LUNA, and meme coins—too many to name—that go parabolic and then collapse. What makes them bad isn’t just volatility—it’s that there’s no floor. Nothing anchors them to reality. When the story fades, the bottom falls out.

The good kind of infinite money glitch is different. It still feels magical—but it’s grounded in reality.

Bitcoin has it. A simple rule—supply cuts in half every few years—creates digital scarcity people can trust. Ethereum has it too. Every transaction burns a little bit of ETH, making the network more valuable the more it’s used. And Uniswap has it. Each trade generates real fees that attract more traders and more liquidity.

These loops are self-reinforcing, but they’re not imaginary. They work because they’re tied to something real: computation, liquidity, security, demand.

At Artizen, we think we’ve discovered a new glitch.

Buying ART mints new tokens or purchases them on the open market—whichever is cheaper—while a cut of every transaction flows into the Artizen Endowment. Each ART token is backed by our treasury and redeemable for US dollars at a floor price that climbs over time. And with a minting price that doubles on a fixed schedule, ART trades between an exponential ceiling and a rising floor.

But the most powerful glitches don’t just run on math. They run on belief.

Memes are how belief spreads. They’re the emotional layer of the glitch, the stories we tell each other that keep the flywheel spinning.

When you’re inside an infinite money glitch, it feels electric.

Numbers go up. Charts explode. Your phone buzzes with dopamine. It feels like you’ve hacked the universe—money just appearing out of thin air. That’s the magic of meme coins when they moon.

You feel the belief crystallize into value.

But that feeling is an illusion if there’s nothing real underneath. Once the hype fades, gravity pulls everything back to zero. The party ends because there’s no foundation—just belief suspended over a void.

And to be clear: memes do have value. They’re collective hallucinations that can move markets and reshape culture.

The trick is to build something real before the meme dies.

A few projects have done it: CryptoPunks, Dogecoin, Nouns, Bonk. They didn’t just mint memes—they built on them. They harnessed the energy of speculation to raise billions, and used that momentum to cross the chasm from hype to reality.

Our meme is simple: build the largest endowment for human creativity.

Two weeks ago we launched the Artizen Endowment with $4 million. It’s already grown by $360,000. If we can push to $6 million in the next 29 days—when the price of ART doubles—I believe we can hit $10 million by year’s end. It will be excruciatingly hard, but if we do, suddenly growing the Endowment to $100 million next year—and to a billion and beyond a few years later—doesn’t sound so crazy.

That’s the self-fulfilling prophecy of our meme. Every dollar we raise, every milestone we hit, makes the next one more inevitable.

Because belief compounds.

Of course, the same dynamics that make this system soar can also send it spiraling. That’s how memes work—they can run in reverse. The feedback loop that compounds belief can just as easily unwind it. If we miss a milestone, if a smart contract fails, if confidence cracks, the same reflexive forces that drive us up could pull us down.

That’s the real test of any system like this: whether it has enough grounding in reality to survive the market shocks that will inevitably come.

And that’s why we believe Artizen is the good kind of glitch.

It’s built on real foundations. The dollars that flow into the Revnet are locked in USDC—fully transparent and redeemable at a rising floor. Each token is backed by the Endowment’s treasury, fueled by real platform revenue and our growing collection of cultural Artifacts of lasting value.

So even if belief wavers or momentum slows, the structure remains. The floor holds. And the cycle can restart. It’s belief—anchored to reality.

If we’re right, this becomes a perpetual motion machine for creativity—each transaction feeding the culture that gives it value.

That’s the real money glitch.

Not infinite wealth for speculators, but infinite support for creators.

Love,
René Pinnell
Founder of Artizen