I haphazardly dove into the world of bitcoin cloud mining to see if I could grind a profit.

I bought a little under one bitcoin (about 0.85 BTC) cheap, once; "cheap" by today's standards, anyway. It cost around $400 USD, from what I remember. For two years it sat in a wallet as I waited for my big payday—the day when Bitcoin's price hits however many hundreds of thousands it will take to not see John McAfee eat his dick—and I could cash out.

As I waited, I thought about how people were investing in that day's most important cryptocurrency, which was once the butt of dismissive jokes about libertarianism. Seemingly everyone who didn't invest earlier was now just trying to make a quick return on a pricey investment before entirely exiting their position. More logical, I thought, was to put money into something that'd return gradually, avoiding crashes and still pocketing bitcoins that could be sold at the most opportune time. I wanted in, but not in a way that meant that I was going to be constantly buffeted by Bitcoin's volatility.

With my one bitcoin just sitting there, I decided to run an experiment.

After taking a (legally-prescribed) Concerta and muttering, "It's time for some game theory," I was reminded of playing a game of Craps. At a typical Craps table, there are those who bet on the six, eight and the pass line (with odds) and hope to not "seven out." There are those who put lower amounts on the hard ways—two twos, threes, fours or fives—hoping that a "soft" version of four, six, eight, or 10 won't roll, or indeed a seven.