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He ambles into his local bar, orders a double shot of Jameson and hacks into the sound system with his Zune player. “Golden Brown” by the Stranglers soon fills the darkened room.

He finishes the drink, tosses a tattered piece of paper onto the bar with “$1000 (Bitcoin)” scrawled across it and walks out into the afternoon sun singing Britney Spears’ “Toxic” in an octave lower than dirt.

Such is a day in the illusory life of Dan Steely.

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