Money is the most basic form of potentiality that most of us can recognize. It is unencumbered by, and made possible by a lack of personality. Alleviated from the material link to the labor of the person who created it, it forms a holding space, a container for time, the time consumed in labor. Money is the abstraction of material goods and activity of the body into a generic medium that stands in a non-place between (human) agents as the process of exchange, of relation itself, and, as that thing that has no shape of its own, but makes possible all other shapes in the process of becoming.
Money, as coinage, has no intrinsic value to itself, unless it bears the impression of the face of a king, that authority that outlives any human lifetime through the transition of personhood metonymously. Eventually, currency has no need of a referant beyond itself, as its authority comes to be in the process of the exchange taking place, when monetization happens. Thank goodness for the giftcard and the holder of placeholders. (There needs to be some holding. And a paper envelope means you won’t get stuck with what you don’t want).
Capital is not money, exactly, but it is made possible through monetization. Capital as surplus, excess, potentiality that itself must keep growing in order to be considered to be existing, may be uniquely monstrous form of hyperobject. Capitalism is definitely too big to fail, and as such it forms a sort of environment for the imagination. An environment of authority that has been abstracted from personhood sufficiently to be omnipresent, but retaining enough personhood to retain coercive power. Capital as so massive, it appears to be being itself.
Chora, as the Aristotelean substrate of all the things, is very close to Being itself, but in the end, is closer to stuff; or shit in the vernacular, as a synonym for things and feces, gifts rejected and hoarded, envied and displayed: what mediates being but belongs to us.