The Bush is Burning: Re:Gen Noir Mint Party

Burningbush reads out the log entry for zGhostin's leaderboard run — 101 nights, 21,699 fugs, 4 hours 41 minutes, all logged on time, marked as used so it can't be posted twice. zGhostin's review: his forearm and wrist feel like leg day, except for the wrist.

Tim (@tim_8093)^* arrives, pins the mint link himself, and asks the question. The answer: no activation, no roadmap — but 20 chapters plus five short stories, a gamified site with a leaderboard, co-writer spots at certain rarities, burn five commons to get your Re:Gen animated onto the De Stefano's homepage, burn ten for a whale dinner seat.

Jed insists Burningbush said "first six to mint ten." Burningbush insists he said burn. Rather than settle it between themselves, they send Dan to query the Space transcripts — a genuinely funny stretch where a man refuses to accept human testimony ("We're not relying on your brain, bro. We're relying on recap"). Verdict at 2:08:08: three days of transcripts say burn, with one instance of loose wording. Burningbush later admits at 2:33:04 he recorded this Space specifically so the transcript wouldn't process in real time.

Dan's suggestion becomes a Mission Impossible–themed track about Jed creeping past a sleeping Liz to get on the mic. It lands while Jed is, in fact, doing roughly that. Liz surfaces at 1:45:33 to explain she'd been waiting for a calm moment to request — "and then Legoland started. I'm like, I'm not requesting during the Legoland serenade."

The night's runaway hit: a slow-jam ballad built on Sho's (@AgogoKaren)^* established euphemism, performed twice — the second time with Mr. Show dragged into the room to hear it. Sho, to her credit: "if I can still have Lego time after 44 years, we're doing something right, right?" By 1:29:56 Tim comes up having heard only the phrase, assuming they meant actual plastic bricks.

Brad had previously turned down a 1-for-1 Fugger-for-Re:Gen trade ("Can't part with my gophers, man. I will save up and do it the hard way"), so Jed pledges to gift him one if the mint reaches 300. Burningbush immediately writes him a song about it. Brad, signing off at 2:32:18: "I always kind of feel awkward when people try to do nice things for me."

Ash's generated track includes the line "white socks, white shoes," and she's audibly thrown — it's a very specific personal thing. Burningbush produces the source: a 2023 post of hers saying only Michael Jackson could get away with white socks and black shoes, which also opened "GM sunshine." Jed, at 2:18:41: "You just blew my fucking mind."

Jed asks to be scraped and gets a 1995 East Coast hardcore track for his trouble. It becomes the night's obsession — played three times, declared worth $250–300, and credited with getting him shadow-boxing in the street. Liz's Carol G–style track held its own; her later Bronx and Fat Joe attempts did not, and she took the loss on the chin with a running accusation that Jed had paid off the AI.

Jed's close: to anyone dismissing the work as "you just used AI," where's your version? He frames the 85% mint revenue split to community builders as the point — "this is community building at its finest" — and says what he's proudest of is people telling him they were nearly done with NFTs and stayed. Liz follows at 4:08:33 on why Re:Envisioning Web3 exists: onboarding is part of it, but it's "empowering people, putting a laugh on someone's face."