When Benchmark Capital's Bill Gurley first expressed his concerns about "burn rate," the rate at which companies burn through his venture capital, startups started wondering whether they were setting money aflame too fast.

The Atlantic has embarked on a new quest, dubbed the Silicon Valley Insiders Poll, in which they survey 50 of tech's foremost "executives, innovators, and thinkers." Their findings proved something we already knew: many believe the tech industry is in a bubble.

Bill Gurley, the Benchmark Capital investor who backed Snapchat and Uber, is uber-bullish when it comes to his own portfolio. But the rest of Silicon Valley, he says, is not nearly frightened enough: "No one's fearful, everyone's greedy, and it will eventually end."

Tech companies across the board are hitting record stock prices, TechCrunch notes, as investors scurry to pump their money into anything remotely related to Silicon Valley. This week, companies such as Apple, Facebook, MobileIron, TubeMogul, and Arista Networks have all hit all-time highs.

Snapchat is joining the ranks of startups "worth" $10 billion. According to the Wall Street Journal, Kleiner Perkins is investing $20 million into the ephemeral messaging app. That cash infusion gives the company a new 11-digit valuation, despite lacking "a clear business model."

The tech boom has already pushed up office rents in San Francisco 81 percent in four years, causing rents to approach levels last seen during the dot-com bubble. Now analysts are predicting the city's office rents will surpass Manhattan's "by the end of 2015."

Every economic cycle exhibiting unsubstantiated optimism deserves its own euphemism for calm the fuck down—a evocative, but subtle phrase implying that investors may want to check themselves before they wreck themselves.

Perhaps CYNK is proof that we're in a tech bubble. Or maybe investors are getting taken for a ride. Either way, a Belize-based "social networking" startup that has no assets, no revenue, no members, and one employee has seen its value shoot up 27,066 percent in the last month.

Some things are too precious to last in this brutal world, and Washboard, a startup that mailed you quarters to do your laundry, is one of them. It is, against all odds and after only a week in business ("business"), shutting down.

San Francisco's housing market is now more exuberant than the dotcom boom, leaving eviction notices for longtime tenants and all cash buyers in a bidding frenzy. Even renting a couch in some dude's living room now comes with a sweat equity clause.

The revolutionizing powers of the tech industry haven't just been summoned as a middleman between you and local restaurants. No, Silicon Valley has also marshaled its intellectual superiority to put apps between you and local laundromats. New York magazine recently traveled to California to investigate this democratic tide (of delivery).

If you hear the word "dinosaur" in Silicon Valley, it's usually a pejorative for an out-of-touch venture capitalist headed for extinction. But according to The New Yorker, the same grim fate awaits the current "Cambrian explosion" of new startups.

Om Malik says the "gold rush mentality" of the dotcom days has turned into "gross entitlement." Then there's this: "Yes, I have overheard a conversation that combined wisdom from Jesus and Ben Horowitz."

The dotcom bubble wasn't all piano-jumping and socket puppets. It also involved bribing tech journalists with startup equity. Fortune's Adam Lashinsky reports that it's happening again. In fact, he just got an offer himself, straight from the CEO of a startup he covered.

David Einhorn's hedge fund—notable for shorting Lehman Brothers before it dry heaved out of existence—is ready to make it official: we are in the midst of another tech bubble.

Your favorite disasters from the dotcom era have returned for another chance to grab what they can from the cash cube, while money is still floating around. First there was Kozmo.com and now Webvan.

If there's one truism on the internet, it's that once something is well-liked and popular, it remains in that state forever. This is the rationale behind King Digital, the firm behind Candy Crush Saga and, uh, maybe some other things (?) to announce its IPO.

There are many ways for a startup to burn through $326 million in venture capital. You could hire lobbyists, grease political levers, launch a 24/7 hotline for complaints from the disrupted, and even build a conference room for software developers modeled after the War Room in Dr. Strangelove. Airbnb opted for ALL OF THE ABOVE.

It's hard to keep your wits about you when trying to generate revenue makes a startup worth less money in the eyes of Silicon Valley. But Snapchat's bonkers $4 billion valuation has driven one man, Roy Murdock, to seriously question his mental faculties in an essay entitled, "Am I Going Insane? Snapchat is Intrinsically Worthless."

This week when Nextdoor, the social networking app for neighbors—a retrograde cross between a neighborhood watch and a neighborhood billboard—announced that it had raised $60 million, CEO Nirav Tolia made certain the tech press knew his startup didn't actually need those millions.