Magic Lab

People may wonder why I talk about Magic Eden so much. I worked my ASS off in 2024–2025 trying to become part of that team. They eventually brought me on because of the staking analytics and educational content I was posting on X 👉 helping people understand $ME, staking, rewards, and onboarding new members into the community. I didn’t just want a job. I wanted to help shape the $ME community into something built around loyalty, respect, trust, creativity and fun. Throughout 2025, I maintained some of the highest mindshare on X around $ME and Magic Eden. I helped get one of the largest $ME DAO working groups approved, @MagicLabHQ, built entirely around supporting creators in the Magic Eden community — especially people who didn’t have huge wallets or massive platforms, but simply wanted to create. I made Magic Eden part of my digital identity. I spent countless hours breaking down tokenomics, staking mechanics and rewards because I wanted ordinary holders to understand what they owned and maximize what they could earn. I hosted 50+ Magic Eden community Spaces. I cared deeply about the people staking $ME because these weren’t numbers on a dashboard. They were real people locking up real money because they believed in Magic Eden, digital assets, NFTs and the long-term vision they were being shown. And the community itself was incredible. Artists. Collectors. Creators. Long-term holders. People onboarding their friends. People showing up every day because they genuinely wanted Magic Eden to win. The community was die-hard loyal. But one thing became increasingly apparent: The team never seemed to fully understand why that community was there in the first place. I sometimes describe what we were building like creating Nike Run Club right before Nike decides it doesn’t really care about selling shoes anymore. Or think about a restaurant. Magic Eden wanted to sit in the kitchen and cook. But someone still has to serve the tables. Someone has to explain the menu. Make people feel welcome. Build relationships. Bring people back. Turn customers into regulars. The community did that. They onboarded people. They created content. They brought friends into the ecosystem. They staked. They collected. They promoted Magic Eden for free because they believed they were helping build something with the company. Profits are binary. People are not. And that’s ultimately why I’m so vocal now. I’m not upset because Magic Eden changed products or because a company decided it needed to pivot. I’m upset because Magic Eden abandoned the most valuable thing it ever built: Its people. And I’m not sure it ever fully understood how special they were.