John McAfee is the insane man's Chuck Norris, the world's first truly sentient meme. But every character, no matter how bizarre, has an origin story. And in that singular fashion, John McAfee is no different than the rest of us.
The History of John McAfee
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In 2012, Wired released an incredible article chronicling McAfee's history. It was as manic and fascinating as the man himself. The article follows his traumatic youth in Virginia, his conquering of alcoholism and drug abuse, his invention of the first consumer antivirus software, his years as a Silicon Valley bigwig, and the dissolution of his wealth during the 2008 Financial Crisis, which led him to liquidate his assets and pursue a lifelong dream of "authenticity" in Belize.
During the recession, McAfee bought two and a half acres of swampland and began constructing a compound of thatched-roofed bungalows. He built a laboratory and poached a scientist from Harvard to work there full-time in order to research new cures for real life viruses, as opposed to virtual ones. He also started injecting testosterone into his butt to stave off old age.
Later, he decided to save a poor town from what he thought were the cartels but were probably just petty criminals, stockpiled a cache of guns, fell in love with a 16-year-old prostitute, ran afoul of a specialized branch of the Belize Police Department called the GSU (Gang Suppression Unit). Ultimately, the saga ends with the mysterious death of his neighbor. It's a hell of a read.
So, what's John McAfee been up to since?
The Death of Greg Faull
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Like most people, Greg Faull wasn't a huge fan of his neighbor. Unlike most people, that neighbor was John McAfee.
Greg Faull was an American with a tropical home-away-from-home in Belize. He loved the calmness of his beachside property, a paradise if not for John McAfee's 11 guard dogs.
Faull filed a formal complaint about the dog at the mayor's office. Later that week, John McAfee woke up to discover all of his dogs poisoned, vomiting blood and convulsing. He shot them to put them out of their misery. By Sunday, Greg Faull had been murdered, shot in the head execution style.
McAfee said it was the GSU: "They mistook him for me. They got the wrong house. He's dead. They killed him. It spooked me out." So he fled to America, which is actually a pretty logical move for a guy who believes the government killed his neighbor in a botched attempt to kill him.
Politics
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Back in America, no longer having to worry about "cartels" and Belizean special forces, McAfee was free to focus on new adventures, namely becoming the President of the United States.
Thus, in 2016 John McAfee decided to run under the "Cyber Party." He later switched to the Libertarian Party after realizing the former wasn't viable.
His platform boiled down to more personal freedom, "more legalization," and more cyber security. "My platform would be legalization of almost everything, except the obvious: murder, rape," he told Breaker during an interview wherein he was admittedly "more stoned right now than I've been in, I don't know, a month." If you ever wanted to see a presidential candidate talk about bath salts, this is your chance.
Unfortunately for the American people, he lost the nomination to Gary Johnson, coming in at a distant second place and carrying only three states: Montana, Vermont, and New Hampshire.
Of course, John McAfee never really loses. He only faces temporary defeat, always returning in a more powerful form. So naturally, McAfee plans to run again in 2020, this time with an updated campaign. He plans to run for more than just freedom. He's running for Bitcoin.
You can read his entire platform here, where he urges upfront, "Do not ask me about immigration, foreign relations, education etc. I have no idea."
Alas, the McAfee 2020 campaign might be over before it even truly begins. In a new video posted to Twitter on January 22nd, John McAfee informs his followers that he is "being charged with using Crypto Cuttencies [sic] in criminal acts against the U.S. Government."
But even while fleeing the country, McAfee won't give up. Better stay tuned.
Of course, when he's not fleeing political persecution, a man as cultured as John McAfee must have interests and hobbies too. Even the most eccentric millionaire in the world needs to unwind somehow.
Yoga
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Pre-Belize, it was yoga. But John McAfee doesn't half-ass anything. So when John McAfee wanted to do yoga, he couldn't just sit there posing. No sir. John McAfee became a guru.
Luckily, you can buy the fruits of his labor — his yoga books. All. Four. Of. Them.
Bitcoin
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John McAfee feels strongly about Bitcoin. He believes that by the end of 2020, one Bitcoin will have reached a valuation of $500,000.
John McAfee feels so strongly about this, in fact, that he has promised to eat his own dick on national television if he is wrong.
John McAfee feels so so so strongly that during the tail end of the Bitcoin bull run in December 2017, he revised his original bet. Now Bitcoin will hit one million dollars by the end of 2020. Of course, if he's wrong, McAfee will still eat his own dick.
Considering Bitcoin's current market prices, it's hard to imagine McAfee will win his bet. But don't worry too much about his penis. Should worst come to worst, McAfee has a plan.
Yes, McAfee will "subcontract the task to a relay team of Bangkok prostitutes." This could mean he was joking all along and would simply hire prostitutes to blow him, but it could also mean that he's totally serious and would actually have a prostitute bite off his penis. With John McAfee, who fucking knows?
Mixology
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Lately, John McAfee has moved on to a new passion: mixology. And just like he was with computer security, John McAfee is at the forefront of innovation.
In his "Mixology 101" series, posted (somewhat) weekly on his Twitter, McAfee recites recipes for drinks he seems to have made up two minutes before filming.
Here, in one of his tamer videos, is something called a "Gin Sky." The concept behind this drink is that John McAfee likes gin but hates the taste of juniper ("one of the worst-tasting substances on the planet").
His recipe is as follows:
1. A pinch of mediterranean salt
2. A tiny bit of gin (John McAfee pours enough to fill half of an entire glass)
3. A tiny drop of mai thai mix
4. A fair amount of sweet and sour mix
5. A splash of Rose's Lime Juice
6. 1 lemon twist, stirred
7. 1 ice cube
8. Fill with soda water
The Gin Sky comes with the John McAfee seal of approval: "Oh motherfucking hell yes. You will like this."
In another mixology video titled "How to drink when you need a drink," McAfee, shirtless with a gun strapped to his suspenders, but also wearing a belt for some reason, delivers on his title by taking a bunch of shots in dangerously rapid succession.
"You just continue this until you can longer continue this," McAfee concludes. What else were you expecting?
And then, of course, McAfee invented a drink called the "Whale Fucker."
This one's easy. It's just Smirnoff vodka, Kombucha (McAfee recommends apple flavored), triple sec, Rose's Lime Juice, and one maraschino cherry. Then you just add ice and stir. And there you have it: a Whale Fucker.
Whale Fucking
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Speaking of whale fucking...John McAfee actually fucks whales. Whale fucking is a subject he is incredibly passionate about and has written about at length.
During his 2016 presidential run, McAfee announced on Facebook that he was turning down a primary debate with Gary Johnson in favor of a much more important prior engagement.
In case you were wondering what a whale fucking contest could possibly entail, McAfee has offered us some insight.
The means of obtaining an invitation are still unclear, but should you pass the Molokai Channel on February 1st, there's a good chance you'll see John McAfee attempting to fuck a whale.
For many, the notion of whale fucking brings up some major concerns about animal consent. You might think whales are smart, but that doesn't mean they can consent to sex. Of course, John McAfee would disagree.
Yes, according to McAfee, given a whale's massive size and power, whale fucking must be consensual. But that doesn't mean you can just fuck a whale any way you want. There's an art to whale fucking, and those who don't abide are worse than scum.
If you want to fuck a whale, you need to do it while the whale is resting on the water's surface. Fucking a beached whale is seriously not cool.
A Living Meme
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For a guy who spends most of his time advocating for cryptocurrency, stockpiling weapons, and fucking aquatic mammals, John McAfee is incredibly self-aware.
In 2013, he released a YouTube video titled "How To Uninstall McAfee Antivirus." In the tutorial, likely to be stumbled upon by people legitimately trying to uninstall his namesake software, John McAfee admits, "I have no idea." He proceeds to get undressed by prostitutes, snorts some coke, shows off his fun collection, and shoots a computer.
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More recently, McAfee has taken to Twitter where he posts all sorts of hijinks including his mixology videos and whale fucking ideologies.
There, he hosts a yearly meme contest, wherein users submit their best original John McAfee memes for him to post.
In true John McAfee fashion, his favorites will obtain Bitcoin.
Nothing is off limits. He'll post memes about prior arrests...
Porno memes...
Even women just sending him pictures of their boobs and calling it a meme. He can host that one directly.
So how does one describe John McAfee, a man who transcends categorization?
A man who transcends sanity.
Perhaps John McAfee is a man best expressed in memes. Or perhaps he's much more than that. Perhaps John McAfee is a human antivirus, a man broadcasting his life as the solution to the total apathy of our culture. At a time when the 24-hour news cycle is always divisive and never surprising, John McAfee stands in stark contrast. His actions make us sit up in our seats and say, "Wait, what?!? The guy from McAfee Antivirus fucks whales?" He is the opposite of complacency, the peak of a life filled with action.
Right now, John McAfee is docked in Georgetown in the Exumas, running his Presidential campaign in exile. He has brought along his wife and his dogs and his soldiers and his weapons and 1,834 quarts of booze.
To us, it sounds like the start of an adventure. For John McAfee, it's just another Friday.
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The Upside of the Coronavirus: We're Finally Past Celebrity Drama
Celebrities' normal antics are not as entertaining (or as important) as they once seemed.
Kim Kardashian has lashed out at Taylor Swift, or Taylor Swift has lashed out at Kim Kardashian, but most of all, both lashed out at all of us for constantly devouring their drama.
Kardashian volleyed a bunch of tweets last night, admonishing Swift for apparently re-invigorating their briefly dead feud and then disavowing the feud on the whole. She finished, "This will be the last time I speak on this because honestly, nobody cares. Sorry to bore you all with this. I know you are all dealing with more serious and important matters."
Swift also responded negatively to the feud's resurfacing. "Instead of answering those who are asking how I feel about the video footage that leaked, proving that I was telling the truth the whole time about *that call* (you know, the one that was illegally recorded, that somebody edited and manipulated in order to frame me and put me, my family, and fans through hell for 4 years)… SWIPE up to see what really matters," she posted on Instagram. When fans swiped, they were taken to a donation page for the nonprofit Feeding America and the World Health Organization's Solidarity Response Fund.
The mind-numbing stupidity of the Taylor Swift-Kim Kardashian-Kanye West feud feels even more obvious in the light of the fact that we're living in a pandemic. Are we entering the age of the post-celebrity feud?
Everywhere, celebrities and ordinary people are expressing rage and anger at those who attempt to continue with business at usual. People who cluster on the street and hang out in parks are the recipient of angry yells from the balcony-bound self-quarantined. Those with any inclination towards the mystic are writing about how the world must change after coronavirus passes—how we cannot return to the way things were, to the way we mindlessly destroyed the planet and hurt each other, thus somehow cursing ourselves into isolation. Humans are the virus, they write; to which the activists respond, capitalism is the virus, while people facing unemployment attempt to vie for a rent freeze.
Even ordinary acts of "kindness"—of the sort we would normally associate with celebrity benevolence—are beginning to appear woefully out of touch. In essence, Hollywood's version of prepackaged, performative kindness and drama seems to be failing to placate the masses. Instead, it only serves to show that the main difference between these folks and regular people isn't necessarily hard work or talent—it's money.
Ellen's versions of "tolerance" and "kindness" were under scrutiny before the virus, but now that she's live-streaming from her couch and complaining about boredom from within her massive home, a thread about her cruel behavior has gone viral.
Madonna also faced vitriol when she made a poorly crafted attempt to comfort her fans from the safety of her bathtub. "Coronavirus is the great equalizer," she said, equating her own living situation—in a flower-filled bathtub, safe within one of her multiple large homes—with the plight of people who have no way of paying this month's rent. (She faced so much backlash that she deleted the video).
And then there's Gal Gadot's "Imagine" video, a horror that seemed to seep out of the wounds coronavirus has already made in our world and ways of life. What was the worst thing about that video? Was it Gadot's waffling intro? Was it seeing our beloved celebrities, without their stage makeup and lighting and cameramen to turn them into gods—was it seeing our celebrities' mortality and feeling some inordinate rage that we've worshiped them for so long while they were really just ordinary people? Was it the look in their eyes, the tepid sorrow overshadowed by a glossy egoism, the same look in the eyes of everyone who has taken a photograph with a child on a service trip? Was it the different keys, the lack of background music, the carelessness of the whole thing?
The "Imagine" video was awful, certainly, but would we have hated it so much if it were well-made, a professional music video with excellent harmonies and good lighting and dazzling costumes? Maybe the disappointment we feel while watching the "Imagine" fiasco stems from a feeling of falling, a realization that the person behind the curtain has always been just an ordinary man, and yet these mortals are languishing in massive air-conditioned homes while so many people sleep on the streets.
Some of the celebrity responses to coronavirus are not just disillusioned; they're truly dangerous. Vanessa Hudgens also provoked ire when she posted a video showing just how much she cared about those who might be affected by the virus. "Even if everybody gets it, like yeah, people are going to die, which is terrible... but inevitable?" she intoned in a video she later apologized for. Worse still, Evangelline Lilly is crusading against quarantining herself on the basis of some idea that it's a violation of her American-born "freedom."
And then there's Donald Trump, the reigning king of the celebrity illusionists. Everything he says sounds as painful and as hollow as the "Imagine" video to some of our ears. Recently, a man died because he tried drinking chloroquine phosphate, a fish tank-cleaner, per Trump's ill-advised recommendation. Trump has been persistently spreading false information, promising that America will be up and running by Easter as other nations tighten their regulations.
Most of the guiltiest illusionists of all aren't even visible. They're the Wall Street executives and the genuinely super-rich—not the Hollywood-level rich but the Jeff Bezos-level rich, those who possess a literally unfathomable amount of money—the ones who have already raced off to their bunkers, the ones who bought stocks at the start of the crisis instead of raising the alarm.
Collectively, maybe we're all getting tired of these folks, parading their gaudy lifestyles and tapping out their stocks, getting early access to tests while our healthcare workers can't even access tests in their own hospitals. Illusions just aren't going to cut it the way they used to. That's not to say they won't change form; certainly our new very-online lives will leave plenty of room for performance and fabrication. Still, the coronavirus feels like it's peeling back many layers of performative benevolence to reveal the insubstantiality at the heart of it all—the wealth inequality and pure selfishness that's allowing this crisis to sputter on into the disruptive mess it's become. Even Kim Kardashian, Taylor Swift, and Britney Spears are waking up to it. Are you?