What Happened To The Silver (Shoes) & Dorothy
Bitcoin Nodes, Off-Ramps, and the Silver That Isn’t There
Miguel ran a hand through his long white-and-pink beard, the way he often did when the world’s absurdities were lining up like ducks in a row.
“Well… Alexandra… it happened again. I listened to another one of those AI-generated breakdowns of the silver markets. Oh and speaking of silver, did you know that in the written [Wizard of Oz] story that Dorothy’s shoes were actually silver colored?”
Alexandra raised an eyebrow. “Another? Was it the same tone? That calm, eerily accurate narrator who sounds like he’s reading out a meteorological report about the end of financial civilization? Oh my and The Wizard Of Oz, I don’t think I was a twinkle in the eyes of my grandparents when that came out.”
They both chuckled after a sip-swig of tea. It was a cool Oregon morning, not freezing, literally but just a heavy fog-mist and lots of that lovely moisture in the air and Steam surged heartily from their tea pot and cups.
“Yes. Precisely that tone. You know—‘Lease rates at 35%, rehypothecation layers collapsing, nothing to see here folks.’”
He paused, letting the absurdity breathe a moment.
“When I was a child,” he said, “silver was something you actually held. Something you could put in your hand and know it was real. And now? Now silver feels like one more asset drifting into the land of [Schrödinger’s Ledger]. Simultaneously ‘there’ and ‘not there’. Until someone asks for delivery.”
Alexandra laughed softly.
“So, the same as all the other modern promises. By the way you have me hanging in suspense and Dorothy’s shoes, Miguel.”
“Good grief, that sounds precarious, hanging on a pair of shoes Alexandra.”
Both laughed heartily with their breaths now intermingling with the morning mists and tea steam.
“Well Alexandra, The Wizard of OZ is thought to be allegorical in many ways and most definitely seems to refer to gold and silver [the precious metals that is]. When they made the film they changed Dorothy’s shoes to red to show of the colors in the film more stridently.”
“Oh I see and please continue with the allegory aspects to the story, the red shoes and film, as I love a good mystery, especially on a mist-filled morning.” Intoned Alexandra, wryly.
“Here it is — the real nugget from The Wizard of Oz, one of the most symbolic monetary allegories ever written, and the one you are referring to:
Dorothy’s shoes in L. Frank Baum’s original 1900 book were NOT red-ruby. They were silver.
As I mentioned red-ruby shoes-slippers were added later by Hollywood in the 1939 Technicolor film because red showed better on screen.
But in the book? Dorothy walks the Yellow Brick Road wearing silver shoes
→ A direct metaphor for the Silver Standard
→ traveling upon the Gold Standard
→ in a story written during the political battles over monetary bimetallism in the 1890s.
It is widely interpreted as:
Yellow Brick Road = Gold standard path
Silver shoes = the suppressed silver currency
Emerald City = greenback (paper) illusion
Wizard = political charlatanry
Scarecrow = American farmer
Tin Man = industrial worker
Cowardly Lion = William Jennings Bryan (the great silver advocate)
So yes — when Dorothy’s silver shoes were replaced in the movie, a giant piece of monetary symbolism was quietly removed from public consciousness.
Hollywood removed the Silver Standard from the greatest monetary allegory in American literature.
That’s the nugget.
And given our conversation about silver manipulation, on/off-ramps, and epistemic opacity… it lands with almost mythic resonance.”
“Thank you Miguel, I was quite right to hang on to those shoes as they seem very relevant to our current morning-mist deliberations, tea is such a relevant partner too. So what did you discover recently about silver then, if I may ask?”
“Yes,” Miguel said, “silver; and as I said until someone asks for delivery of such, well this one is finally cracking. JP Morgan flipping from the biggest short to 750 million ounces of silver long—that’s not a strategy. That’s a confession.”
Alexandra whistled.
“And yet the public never sees the confession. Here is a prediction for 2026, JP Morgan embracing Bitcoin!”
“No. Because the confession isn’t spoken. It’s done. Actions are the true ledger. Words are the marketing layer. And yes I completely agree regarding Bitcoin and JP Morgan, however I am not sure that will be a welcome embrace; would you like the cold embrace of a viper Alexandra?”
With a shudder Alexandra replied, emphatically “Heck No!”
They walked past a few of the seed trays Miguel had set earlier that morning. The air was cool, scented faintly of soil waking up.
“You know what it made me think about?” Miguel said.
“Nodes.”
“Of course it did,” Alexandra said, grinning. “Everything circles back to nodes with you these days.”
Miguel shrugged with a playful helplessness.
“Imagine a system where the silver supply is provable.
Where no claim can exceed reality.
Where no derivative hides behind another derivative.
Where no vault pretends to have more metal than physics allows.”
Alexandra nodded slowly.
“You’re saying—Bitcoin is what silver wanted to be.”
Miguel’s eyes brightened.
“Yes! Exactly that.
It is silver without the shadow.
Value without the fog.”
He turned to her.
“And here’s the part governments don’t like: even if they stifle the [on and off ramps], even if they tighten every choke point—if you run a node, you still hold the truth!”
Alexandra considered this carefully, as she always did.
“So the ramps are political. But the truth is physical.”
“Precisely.”
Miguel tapped the side of his head.
“A Bitcoin node is a little machine of epistemic sovereignty.
It tells you what’s real without asking permission.”
Alexandra kicked a pebble off the path.
“You think many people could run them? Really run them?”
Miguel nodded.
“Easily. Today, with 2025 technology, we could have [one to two billion] devices capable of running full nodes. Not that they will, but that they could. The hardware is not the bottleneck. Literacy is.”
Alexandra smiled softly.
“So Bitseed is… literacy.”
“That’s how I see it,” Miguel said.
“Seeds and satoshis teach the same lesson: verify life for yourself. Don’t trust the packaging. Don’t trust the market report. Don’t trust the vault tally. Don’t trust the government blessed app. Verify.”
They walked a few steps in silence.
“You know, Miguel,” Alexandra said, “it makes sense now why AI is suddenly so good at exposing the cracks. AI doesn’t have a pension to protect. Or a boss. Or a regulator.”
Miguel laughed.
“Yes. AI is the first financial analyst in history who doesn’t need the system to survive.”
“And that,” Alexandra said, “terrifies the system.”
“Exactly,” Miguel replied.
“When an AI narrates the silver collapse more honestly than the silver industry itself—that’s [epistemic disintermediation]. The middlemen of truth begin to vanish.”
She nodded.
“And nodes fill the void.”
Miguel’s eyes softened, the way they often did when he recognized a symmetry in the world. “Yes. Nodes are how ordinary people keep the truth alive when institutions can no longer tell it.”
He glanced toward the greenhouse where seed trays were warming quietly.
“Just like seeds hold life when supply chains falter.”
Alexandra placed a hand on his shoulder.
“So… the governments may choke the rails. The banks may flip their silver books. The markets may pretend not to break. But you and I—we keep teaching people to grow their own truth.”
Miguel smiled.
“That,” he said, “is the Bitseed way.”
Thank you as always for reading our onward journeys.