In our 2018 film, A Modest Proposal, we proposed to financialize the assets of public museums, their collections, and buildings, and distribute the generated values for the benefit of the producers of those values: the artist community. Reality seems to have caught up with our proposal. In the wake of the pandemic, public museums started to sell NFTs of their master pieces. But this did not inspire any new form of mutualization. In this text, we question whether blockchain infrastructures can be considered a public good. The individualistic logics that pervade the crypto sphere consider human relations in transactional terms and the enforcement of property rights as the only valuable governance principle, defining property as the basis for representation in many of the Decentralized Autonomous Organizations (DAOs). The trust placed in automated processes might lead to ‘governance by algorithms’, making the ‘Leviathan’, the sovereign machine, a frightening possibility. Other blockchain infrastructures may offer more inclusive alternatives. Distributed Cooperative Organizations (DisCOs) acknowledge the need for the individual to sustain her/himself and yet also create a solidarity economy by the mutual distribution of collectively generated values among all contributors. We focus on the above questions on property, public goods and governance using our home in Brussels, which we have defined as an artwork and framing device. It is the ‘house as artwork’ that helps us evaluate how these concepts play out in an accelerating world in which blockchain and other technologies might equally generate emancipation or new enclosures.

What began with an intense bout of crypto fever has since the onset of the pandemic engendered an explosive rise in online retail trading. While the original political promise of financial decentralization has become ever harder to sustain, the idea of democracy as access, including access to highly speculative and gamified investments, continues to capture the financial imagination.

Financial conspiracies today blend together antisemitic tropes and spiritual visions with ideals of political reform and economic salvation. It is tempting to locate such phenomena at the periphery of the financial order, situating them within a delusional space beyond judicious concepts of money, finance, wealth, and value. But is also possible to take paranoid finance as an extreme, radical appropriation of a logic inherent in finance.

The dominant view among critics of today's financial economy is that, at one point in its long history, capitalism took the wrong turn, falling victim to greed and corruption. This view is fundamentally flawed. The elementary but disavowed reason for the current dominance of the financial sector is that the social narrative based on labour exploitation has grown impotent. The law of value is artificially kept alive in spite of its vanishing. But how long can such delusion last?

The interface of political economy with arts and literature has become dominated by a particular image: capital's Grinch-like theft of the future. But this image overlooks the peculiar temporal structure of neoliberalism, which renews its broken promises by making up ever more excuses for the past. Contemporary bailout society requires a form of critique that acknowledges these dynamics, that targets the way capital reconstructs our relationship to the past.

Assets thrive on liquidity but they also enact a freezing of their own, a freezing of the underlying. How can we undo the cold reign of the asset economy? By turning state practices of asset freezing into the basis for a pirate tactic of de-assetization. De-assetization means freezing over the pipes that keep capital circulating; it also means applying heat to the notion that everything in the world can and should be frozen in order to release more liquid flows of cash.