An opportunity. To what? To make money? Perhaps. To lose money? Perhaps. To indulge and learn about ourselves? Perhaps. They’re an opportunity.

There are many funny details about Trump’s latest round of tacky NFTs. But my favorite is about the Tremendous Dinners you are promised with Trump if you buy 75 virtual cards at 99 bucks a pop (with virtually no resale value):

The fine print, vis-a-vis those Tremendous Dinners, reads: “In the event President Trump is unable to attend the Gala Dinner and/or cocktail reception, or if the Gala Dinner and/or cocktail reception cannot take place for any reason (including, but not limited to, force majeure (such as a governmental order or mandate, epidemic, pandemic, or any other causes beyond our reasonable control)), then in our sole discretion we may reschedule the Gala Dinner and/or cocktail reception, or individuals who qualified to receive tickets for the Gala Dinner and/or reception will be awarded a limited edition Trump NFT in lieu thereof.”

So if Trump decides to cancel the dinner “for any reason,” instead of the Tremendous Dinner you get…another worthless NFT. And that’s what you would deserve. Only if you’re a Trump superfan being a sucker is the whole point of the excerise:

While it is tempting to say that baseball card collectors are more discerning than the sort of person who would pay $99 for a digital card featuring an image of Trump dancing, there’s a difference here. Baseball card collectors seem to have decided that they can’t trust the origin of the fabric in their relic cards; it’s not an unreasonable suspicion. The people who pay for Trump relic cards will get a similar janky keepsake, with similarly notional value, but they will do it for something like the opposite reason. The card’s value, and something like the broader value proposition for anyone who would make such a purpose, is in the thrill of taking the least trustworthy living American at his word.