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May 27, 2020 - Get Off My Lawn - Gavin McInnes
01:09:59
S02E169 - WHISKEY WITH MCAFEE [2020-05-27 - S02E169 - WHISKEY WITH MCAFEE]
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Live from New York, it's Get Off My Lawn with Devin McGinnis.
Hello, kiddies.
Extra special episode of Get Off My Lawn.
This Thursday, we have John McAfee on the line on Skype.
He's off the grid using the internet.
I wonder how he does that.
He just got out of jail, Dominican Republic.
But are you familiar with him?
He's the guy behind McAfee, I'm not sure how to pronounce it, McAfee software, antivirus software, made $100 million doing that, sold it.
And ever since then, he's become the most interesting man in the world.
The biggest controversy was when he was living in Belize, he had a neighbor that hated his guts.
John had an army around him of all times, of felons, armed felons followed him everywhere, a harem of sluts, boats, galore, party time, party time.
And his neighbor hated him.
His neighbor poisoned his dogs.
His neighbor mysteriously dies.
What happened?
They burned down his lab.
The government says that he had a lab in Belize in the jungle where he was making meth.
Everyone believes it.
Sounds very simple, though.
And, you know, 10 years ago, you'd say something and I'd just say, Occam's razor, right?
Whatever's most likely true, true.
You hate your neighbor, then he dies.
You probably killed him.
And for the most part, that is true.
But now, in Clown World, I don't take anything for granted.
He also had a lab technician, Allison Adonicio.
She claims that he raped her, drugged her, raped her.
He claims he hasn't paid tax since, I think, 2010.
I mean, the guy's Wikipedia alone.
It reads like a crime thriller.
I think they're doing a movie on his life.
Johnny Depp was supposed to play McAfee, but I think he's out now, and it's Michael Keaton is playing him, and he's going to be showing a Wired reporter around.
Wired.
And I think it's Zach Efron is playing the reporter.
So the guy is fucking interesting.
He got a prostitute about, I don't know, five years ago, 10 years ago, and said, I love you.
Let's get married.
And so they did.
Now that's his wife.
She was in jail in Dominican Republic with him.
It was only like four days or something.
But the guy wakes up, does a bunch of shots of tequila, and then he does interviews.
So without further ado, I said it right that time.
Let's talk to him.
Let's talk to him.
John McCaffey.
We can't hear you.
Can you see me?
Shit, I can't hear you.
It's okay.
Oh, there we go.
I'm just fucking with you.
My apologies.
Listen, I mean, if you have not watched any of my other podcasts, well, then you deserve to have 30 seconds of humor played upon you.
I saw you on Anthony Coomia's show.
I don't remember that particular trick.
You know what?
People don't push the record button at the right location.
Like, you have not pushed the record button yet.
You're missing out on the best stuff.
Had you push record, Ryan?
Dude, what is your tattoo?
Oh, I got an American Eagle holding my rifle, my Huntington rifle, and then a bunch of other crap.
Were you in the service?
No.
No, I'm not brave enough to be in the service.
Nor I. I was never in the service either.
Funny, people always ask that.
They go, if you love America so much, why don't you fight for it?
And I go, because I'm not brave enough.
Well, for me, it wasn't that.
I was doing things, other things in America.
The only war that there was that I lived through were you had the, I don't even remember what it's called.
I mean, the lottery guy.
If you get called, you go to war.
But I was pursuing a graduate program in mathematics, and at the time, they deemed that, for whatever goddamn reason, more important than putting a uniform on me and a gun in my hand.
Now, let me tell you, if they had fucking known how good I was with a gun, they would have said, fuck school, send that guy to the front black market.
This is Vietnam we're talking about?
Yes, Vietnam.
Fuck me.
Hang on a second.
1967, 68, and 69 is when I kept showing up for, remember they would send out things, come in for your physical, right?
I always pass the physical, but someone always said, so you're studying math.
Okay.
And that was it.
Imagine how scary that would be to get that card and you're going in there and they go, no, that's your number.
You're on the plane.
You know what?
It didn't really matter to me very much.
People think that their lives are under their own control.
They're not.
They never have been, never will be.
You're just one of 7.8 billion human beings on this planet.
How important could you possibly fucking be?
Well, clearly not to the American government, right?
They let 60,000 men die in that stupid war.
No one even knows what it was for.
Yeah, well, that's true.
But it did cause a great deal of media attention.
Is it not media, which is what is mainstream?
Media, it is the modern terminology for propaganda.
Please, if you can't see that, please should move quickly back into your mother's basement.
And don't you think the past couple years it's gotten even worse?
Like, even today, I was reading about certain words that insult the Chinese government are removed from YouTube.
Well, I mean, that's a corporate edict decided by something of that level.
Fuck me, probably the board of directors.
Yeah.
I mean, that's the prerogative of corporations.
And that doesn't concern me that much.
Did you have tequila for breakfast today?
Did I have tequila?
Tequila?
Is it a day?
I mean, if it's a day, I had tequila for breakfast.
Anybody who fucking knows me knows between six and ten shots of tequila for breakfast.
Who doesn't do that?
I don't fucking know.
I mean, if you don't do that, that's your problem, not mine.
I drink a lot of bourbon, but I need an upper to stop the nap.
So I take Adderall and Maker's Mark.
You are a serious drug.
No, drug.
Fuck drug.
You're a serious psychonaut, my friend.
Only you're in a psychonaut alley, which is well traveled and not very deep, right?
The upper downer alley.
Yeah, that's great.
The problem I have with it is bedwetting and wedding furniture, passing out and then wedding the bed.
Because the Adderall lets you drink so much that when it shuts off, you're in way over your head.
Well, for me, it doesn't manifest like for me, and I just fall over my fucking face.
I'm doing something and fall over my fucking face.
You're lucky, Mofo, and that's why you keep doing it.
No, no, no.
I've had that too.
Look, I got a scar on my nose from pushing my glasses into my face when I fell down.
Okay.
You must believe me, my friend.
You're talking about an alley, which I know, like the back of my hand, I could walk down that alley and back blindfolded.
There are better alleys to pursue.
For example, you obviously like uppers and downers together.
Have you ever tried methylene dioxypyrovalarine?
You know, it's more commonly on the street called MDPV.
No, I'm not familiar with that drug.
And we're talking drugs.
I mean, I'm sorry.
I'm not an expert.
I mean, I've done a lot, but I'm not Hunter Thompson.
Thank God you're not claiming expert status because seriously, I mean, any Mofo out there listening to this that has not taken MDPV or alpha PBP or alpha PHP, the most powerful operators ever goddamn created and invented by the Chinese in the mid to late 90s in a brand of or classification of drugs called cathinones.
Good God, they make amphetamine look like baby aspirin.
That sounds like it's dangerous for your heart.
That sounds like a heart attack.
Are we talking drugs or talking danger?
We can talk either one you want.
I'm easy.
I think we found the Venn diagram of drugs and danger, though.
Talk danger for about two minutes and we'll finish.
That's a goddamn subject.
Danger.
You want no danger?
Don't drink.
Don't smoke.
Don't ever take a drug.
Don't leave the fucking house.
If you can get your mom to pay for your existence while you live in a tiny closet in her basement, then do that.
That's no way to live.
Where are you now?
Are you still in?
Where were you, Tennessee before?
You haven't been keeping up with me.
No, no, since Janice and I got out of jail in the Dominican Republic last July, 10 months ago, we've gone underground.
We have no other choice.
And if you know the story, what else could we fucking do?
Hey, I have a crazy theory about Greg Fall.
You ready for this?
Now, you're a real trophy to get as a hack.
So what if a hacker set up a hit, had Greg Fall killed to make you look bad, and then that hacker can say, not only did I hack him, but I framed him in a murder?
Well, that's certainly not outside the bounds of possibility.
But no, sir, I do not believe that happened.
I know exactly what happened.
Well, the Belizean government killed Greg Fall.
Okay.
So here's the sequence of events.
The Belizean government raids my Orangewalk estate, destroys a half million dollars worth of damage, shoots my dog, submits me to serious discomfort, destroys a laboratory that I had been working on for antibiotics based on the science of quorum sensing.
And we actually had a goddamn product.
They destroyed all of that.
So it was like an organic antibiotic made with natural plants and stuff.
Yes, actually, sure, it's made by plants along the Jungle River called the New River in Belize, one of the longest navigable jungle rivers in the world.
And yes, we found a number of things of plants.
Here's the thing.
So I'm reasoning this.
Animals get sick from viruses, from bacteria.
If a sick cow is clearly sick, the other cows just walk away.
What about a plant?
Plants also are susceptible to both viruses and bacteria, but they can't uproot themselves and walk 100 meters away and replant themselves.
No.
They've got to survive in an environment where the bacteria can't be avoided under any circumstance.
Just like airborne viruses.
We live in a soup of airborne viruses, people, flu, you name it.
Thank God, nothing major like polio or HIV, which can only, like HIV, only be transmitted through very extremely intimate contact.
And polio through contaminated water, for fuck's sake.
So no.
No, but it's airborne viruses like the flu, colds, COVID-19.
We swim in them.
We all get them.
We can't possibly fucking avoid them.
So you harnessed this survival instinct from the plants and made it into a pill that humans could take.
Yes, it is based on a thing called quorum sensing.
And we discovered just 12 years ago that bacteria communicate with each other.
I mean, for example, caphylococcus.
Let's say it's a flesh-eating staph infection.
When that bacteria gets on your skin or in your bloodstream, does it start eating you right?
No, fuck that.
It's quiet, silent, completely non-pathogenic benign.
Why is that?
Because it is smart enough to know that if one bacteria gets on you and starts eating you, your immune system is going to come, what?
That stupid motherfucker killing.
And be done with it.
But if they wait for days, weeks, sometimes months, a thing called a biomass is reached.
Meaning that the individual bacterias somehow know through a thing called quorum sensing that there's five billion trillion of us now.
And so let's start eating this motherfucker.
Let's flick the switch.
We're ready.
Let's throw the switch now.
Well, cancer's like that too, right?
The only way you can get it is early detection, and then it reaches metastasization, and you're dead.
You're dead.
But no, how did plants do it?
They didn't create things that killed bacteria.
I mean, that's crude.
That's what we were doing with antibiotics.
No.
Plants figured out that these bacteria communicate and do not turn pathogenic until a biomass is reached.
So a few plants, oddly enough, the most, the plants hardest, most difficult to survive, like these small carnivorous plants.
Why are they carnivorous?
God damn it, the soil has got nothing in it.
Nothing.
You think jungles have rich soil?
Please research it.
There's no nutrients, there's no nitrogen.
Fuck me, you've got to root 30 feet deep in order to get anything.
Why is that?
Is that the lack of sunlight because of all the leaf coverage?
You know, I'm not sure.
I haven't dug into it to that level, but I promise you, if you Google it now, what is most, well, the least fertile soil on the planet, the soil of rainforests industry.
I don't know why.
Think about it.
I mean, the goddamn trees are stealing 99% of it.
And they have a canopy, a solid fucking green canopy through which nothing penetrates.
No direct sunlight ever reaches jungle floors.
Fuck me, you know.
So plants resorted to eating animals, insects, frogs, anything they could digest.
In order to get nutrients that simply were not the soul.
These plants had magic fucking capacities in the form of compounds that made bacteria deaf.
Meaning that the bacteria could not sense a quam.
So I bet the government said he's probably making meth in that lab.
He's not making antibiotics.
And then they didn't even mind that.
They just said, pay me your meth fee.
Basically, yeah.
But come on.
Can we get real for a second?
I mean, I'm in Central America.
I'm in the heart of Sinaloa cartel territory.
Now, the Sinaloa cartel rules, owns, controls the drug trade, whether it's opium, methamphetamines, marijuana, or cocaine.
What do you think the life expectancy would be of a fucking gringo moves to Carmelita and starts a goddamn meth lab?
Well, please, people, use your goddamn sense.
The life expectancy of that dude would be measured in hours.
It'd be like this.
Hefe, he, it's incredible el gringo as my boss.
Listen, boss, the gringo is making jokes.
Well, they would say, well, don't kill him.
Chop off his arms and legs.
Make sure he's still alive when you get him to me because I need answers.
No, please, God, let's wake up, people.
So could not have been that.
Yeah.
Yet, the mainstream media, as stupid as the mainstream media is, actually believe the government story.
Oh, John Macfree is manufacturing methamphetamines in Carmelita, the middle of the goddamn jungle, where there's no police, with a shore of thousands of cartel people.
He's manufacturing methamphetamines.
Please, God, is John Macfree still alive?
If he is, he was not manufacturing methamphetamines.
So, why did the government destroy the lab?
Fuck me.
All right, we got time.
Okay, so now I'd moved to the jungle for one reason.
I'd been living in San Pedro for three years.
San Pedro is the American enclave of Belize, San Pedro Island.
Captain, Captain, I'm sorry.
Yeah, one please.
I'm sorry.
Captain Morgan and most of the pirates called San Pedro La Pena del Carib, the pearl of the Caribbean, the most beautiful fucking island you can ever imagine.
I traveled my first time there in 1973, been back many times and finally purchased a large estate on that island.
Why?
And a more beautiful spot on the farm.
Oh, I've seen it.
It's breathtaking.
The reef that goes out there, it's just stunning.
It's the second longest barrier reef in the world, and yet by far more reachable and accessible than the great barrier reef of Australia.
No, I mean, it makes the Australian reef look like kindergarten sandbox toys.
Nothing by comparison.
Nevertheless, unfortunately, the people lived there and had for thousands of years.
I mean, starting with the Caraib Indians and then the Mayans and ultimately the Aztecs that allegedly killed off the Mayans.
And then came the Spanish and then came the slaves and then came a host of other things.
And Belize, La Perla del Carib, became that place, that go-to for everybody in the know of what the Caribbean really was fucking like.
San Pedro, well, two years of that, three years of that shit got old for me.
I mean, yes, it fucking is.
However, just behind me, I'm facing east on San Pedro Island, catching the sunrise every goddamn day, right over the reef.
The reef is how far away?
A quarter of a fucking mile.
And I have sailboats and powerboats and sport boats and jet skis.
And I'm living the life of a fucking millionaire.
Well, you are.
Well, of course.
Nevertheless, a life to be dreamed of.
And I was living it.
But people, I mean, the British, had the British still been there, I think I would have been fine.
But the British abandoned that motherfucking country 80 years before.
And in that time, first of all, they gave the country over to a largely illiterate and totally ignorant.
And I don't mean that in a negative way.
They simply didn't know jack shit about anything.
Populace, few of which even spoke English properly, and most of which were completely dependent upon the British Empire for food.
I mean, that's the Caribbean today.
The only successful countries down there are the ones the British run.
The rest are in a complete fucking mess.
Yeah, but this is an exception.
The British ran Belize, but when they left, they turned it over to fuck me, some strange people.
Over the next 75 years, Belize City, which even today is the murder capital of the planet, more people per capital are killed, mutilated, shot, disappeared, burned alive, blown up, or otherwise disposed of in Belize City than any city on this planet, people.
Well, there's still Aztecs, really, deep down.
They're still the same people that were sacrificing virgins and sacrificing babies.
Yeah, but now they just sacrifice foreigners, specifically Americans.
Why?
You can't fucking blame them.
Can you blame these people?
We, Americans, arrogant, powerful motherfuckers with cash, money banks, and our government with stealth fucking airplanes and bombs and the nuclear goddamn bomb.
And with one thousandths of America's army, you could wipe police off the face of the goddamn planet.
And so, yes, we're hated.
Who wouldn't hate Americans?
I'm being serious.
But nevertheless, I went there.
And a smart American would have, number one, maintained the lowest profile possible.
And number two, never have fucking left San Pedro.
But the jungle called to me.
I could not resist that call.
Yeah, why not set up the lab closer to San Pedro?
Why set up the lab so deep in the jungle?
Because the plants that I was researching were deep in the jungle.
You know, plants on San Pedro is a fucking island.
I mean, it's palm trees, a little bit of grass, all of it imported from either Europe or America.
And that's it.
So, no, nothing of interest in San Pedro.
Had to get into the jungle.
And he called me.
So I went.
I built a compound, a massive, I mean, a serious, the largest compound in the center of Belize.
It had 11 houses, 27 security guards, 17 Dogs patrolling the property, barbed wire fence surrounding 30 acres along the river, boats, people to kill the crocodiles who ate dogs, and I preferred my dogs to crocodiles, and so on.
No, I was a serious fucking compound.
People was a Colonel Kurtz compound of the highest order, except I didn't see myself as Colonel Kurtz.
I saw myself as what I've always seen myself as, a gentle, unassuming person, just trying to do my thing while not fucking with anybody else.
I mean, all I've ever asked of life is this.
I promise I will not fuck with anybody if people don't fuck with me, but I don't know what it is.
This is my face, my looks, my accent.
I'll drink to that.
There's two types of people in America.
The people who want to be left alone and the people who won't leave them the fuck alone.
Well, yeah, that's been my life.
That has been my life.
In reality, which is why I've been in jail 11 times in almost as many countries as Janice, and I just the fuck got out of jail nine months ago in the Dominican Republic.
And by the way, those of you looking for a jail experience should not start with the Dominican Republic.
It is, I've been in Mexican jails, Guatemalan jails, police jails.
Police jails are pretty bad, bad, I must admit, nothing has ever approached a Dominican Republic jail.
I heard they have weapons in DR jails.
Like, prisoners will have guns.
Not in my jail.
I don't know about other jails, but no, not in mine.
Listen, if the prisoners had guns, we'd break out.
Understand?
It's the guards that need to worry about.
They got the fucking guns.
And there ain't no laws.
No laws when it comes to how they treat criminals in the Dominican Republic.
Fuck no.
If we had guns in prison, we'd bust the cap in the first guard who came into the cell block.
No.
Fuck no.
It's not that way at all.
Did they beat you?
No, fuck no.
I'm 74.
They were terrified of killing me or me just dying of old age while on their property.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
Okay, so you just got out of prison, horrible time.
You built this lab.
What was the government's motive to destroy it?
No, we're talking about two different things.
The Dominican Republic happened just nine months ago, at least nine years ago almost.
Okay, why did they destroy it?
Okay.
Yeah.
See, I'm a stupid Grinko.
I don't think of what it truly means to be hated by the majority of the world.
What it means in reality is if you're living outside of America, you are the lowest motherfucker on the totem pole.
And I went into the jungle with millions of dollars and created an estate where estates could not be created.
Why?
I had the wealth and experience, and I did it.
In the middle of one of the poorest countries on the planet, where policemen make $3 a day, if they're lucky, and must buy their own bullets and their own weapons, which is why most of the police have no fucking weapons in Belize.
The Dominican Republic, oh yes, they do.
But not in Belize.
There should be a fifth world, not just a third.
The Dominican Republic is a third world country.
No laws.
Those in power control, rule, choose, decide, and judge without any system whatsoever fucking ever.
But in police where those in power are just there tentatively because life is so fucking cheap.
So why did the government destroy your lab?
Get into it.
Okay, sir.
Background.
You got to have a background first.
True, true, true.
So now, a gringo comes into your country spending tens of millions of dollars.
He's in San Pedro, inviolet.
Can't touch a fucking American in San Pedro.
It's just America in police.
Can't fucking be done.
Why?
All of the goddamn money for the country comes from us, the Americans who are expatriates and police.
End the fucking story.
But one of us gringos, a stupid older motherfucker, moves into the jungle.
No white man had ever done that before.
In the entire district of Orangewalk, the largest section and district of police, I was the only white man.
They called me the white man.
I mean, not in any derogatory way, no more than it's derogatory to call a fat man Gordo.
Have you seen Gordo?
You don't have to remember anybody's name.
Oh, the fat man, yes.
Have you seen the white man?
Well, yeah, he was in here this morning.
No.
I go to restaurants.
White man, how are you?
No.
Now, that's the world I was in.
And yet this world, which seemed, at least locally, to be easily understood and worked with, from a political and historical standpoint, I was just in the fucking dark.
And so what happened is A year and a half after I'd moved there, established my compound, was creating, and by the way, we had a goddamn spray-on antiseptic that would have changed the fucking world.
About ready to release it.
We had tested 5,000 bottles of it on Belesians who were storming my front gate for more.
Now, we had some shit.
So the governor comes in in the guise of a local congressman.
Mr. McAfee, we're so happy you've chosen to come to Orange Walk to live.
You know that the election is coming up in two months.
We think that if you were to donate $2 million to the UDP, the ruling party, that it would assure our win in March.
And beyond that, Mr. McAfee, we're willing to give you 10,000 acres along the New River near the recently unearthed Mayan City up the river.
You know, if you're going to extort someone, start small with like 200 grand or something.
You know, 2 million is a pretty big ask for your first extortion.
It probably would have been 200,000 if I had been wise enough not to make my wealth and influence so fucking apparent.
Right.
And that's the goddamn problem.
What idiot builds what I build in third-world countries?
This isn't my first rodeo with this problem.
Fuck no.
No, that's the issue, is that I didn't play what I...
They possibly murdered Greg Falls.
They didn't burn down the lab till after I left police.
Then they burned down the whole fucking world.
But why not just rebuild the lab wherever you are now?
Surely the technology, the medicine is still in your head.
Yeah, sure as fuck is.
But every single plant that we discovered was unique, not just to the country of Belize, but to maybe a three-kilometer wide section of the fucking river.
I can't do it.
It's not possible.
I can't go back to Belize.
I can't create a company in Belize.
I can't trust anything that happens in Belize.
Yes, of course, that would be great.
That's not how the world works.
So the secret to all of this is if you're going to do something radical in a turd world country, keep a low profile.
Don't have a jet ski.
Don't even tell anybody your goddamn name.
Make up a fake name.
No one gives a shit.
What's your name?
Zaphod Beeblebox.
That's interesting.
Thank you.
My name is John Smith.
Nice to meet you, John.
Nice to meet you, Zaphod.
Fuck.
That's it.
No, but no, I donated armaments to the Belizean police, which were headlined in the newspapers.
And I donated an assault vessel, a marine vessel, to the Belizean Coast Guard so that they could actually take quads, the four-wheel machines, onto the beach, farm that fucking boat.
Power on wide.
I mean, goddamn, the drug trade murder mayhem along the beaches of the northern island towards a fucking legendary.
So, yeah, so I donated a boat.
You know, I used to live in Montezuma, Costa Rica, and my friends who would come to visit, they called it Camp Murderer because everyone they met had some story about a hit and run or they were wanted for growing pot and they just went there and never came back.
Yeah, that happens in Costa Rica, too.
So do you think, so you can never return to Central America?
No, fuck no.
Please, God.
Well, I understand you're running for president now for almost two months in Belize, while every one of their 17,000-man army and every police officer, their 8,000 police officers, had my photo and instructions from the prime minister.
The highest priority is to collect this man dead or alive.
Now, yes, it was spooky.
How did you get out of there?
Oh, you need to read the story.
It's very complicated.
It's online.
Just Google John McVeigh Belize.
There are tons of stories about how I got out.
I remember seeing you on the boat with your wife carrying those guns saying, if you don't hear from me, something bad has happened.
Well, that has nothing to do with police.
That was just last year.
That was on the way from Cuba to somewhere, Dominican Republic, I think.
That was just a year ago.
Totally different story.
I read a study recently that said that people who make spontaneous decisions tend to have happier lives.
I don't know.
All of my decisions.
You seem to personify spontaneous decisions.
I don't know how to make a decision.
It works.
I've tried a thousand times to make a decision that would impact my future more than 30 seconds out.
It never works.
We are not crystal balls to ourselves.
I wish we were.
Yes, but you seem disproportionately attracted to danger.
No, no, no.
If you see the truth of your life and the truth of people, number one, you can't trust anybody, not even your mother.
People say, well, you can trust your mother.
Really?
Look at history.
Lydia, wife of Caesar Augustus, has killed all her fucking children, except one, and her husband, and everybody else in the goddamn family, because she favored one of her goddamn sons, Germanicus, fucking idiot, as far as I can tell.
It's her son, yet she killed everybody to make sure he succeeded the fucking throne.
You can't even trust your mother, people.
So we're number one.
Can't trust anyone.
John, you're born in England, but your McAfee implies genetically Scottish, right?
Here's the thing.
My father and mother and grandfathers, all of my relatives claimed it was pronounced McAfee.
But we all know the truth of our goddamn parents.
There are parents that told us about Santa Claus, the fucking Easter bunny?
Please.
I mean, parents who will lie about something so fundamentally horrific.
Who knows how to pronounce the name?
I mean, I'm more inclined to think that the pronunciation has nothing similar to McAfee.
Well, I don't care how it's pronounced.
I'm just saying that you must have Scottish lineage.
It's actually Irish.
I wish it were Scottish because I'd have more money.
You fucking Scottish people have more money than God.
Why?
Because you do make long-term fucking decisions.
That's Irish.
The only decision we have to make is...
It's not going to last an hour.
Do I get up and get another bottle before my next podcast?
Or do I, I don't know, ration this motherfucker out and see what happens.
Well, I'm trying to lead you to a concept here where they say the Scots, they fought the English for 700 years, and the ones who don't like conflict are extinct, and they've genetically been bred to thrive in a state of conflict and danger.
I think the Irish FUB, I really do.
I mean, for the Irish, I mean, we're goddamn born into nothing but danger.
I mean, there's nothing else in life for us.
And so for the Irish, life is about running from, avoiding, hiding behind something from danger, because that's all there is.
And given that, while we're in hiding, while we're running from, we fucking drink way more than you goddamn scotch people.
I'm sorry.
That's a challenge right there.
You are definitely drunker than I am right now.
Do you think that your lifestyle choices are genetic is what I'm getting at?
What are you drinking?
What are you drinking?
It's a sponsor of ours.
It's called America Bourbon.
It's like a pro-Trump whiskey company.
Is it now?
Yeah.
I'm almost ashamed to say I'm drinking Jameson.
I don't like Jameson.
It's for bartenders.
Well, yes, Dod.
What am I but a bartender to myself?
Now, speaking of Trump, I understand you're running for president.
No longer.
No longer.
I mean, the woman, I can't even remember her name, was nominated way ahead of me in the Libertarian Party.
So, no, that's over.
I'm not going to form a new party more than likely.
So, no.
Actually, my first run, I came in third.
Yeah.
Even on an honorable fucking mention this time.
But, see, I don't wonder about it.
I mean, for example, I missed most of the debates.
I was asked why the day after one of them said, well, I was too fucking stoned and drunk.
That's the simple truth of it.
That's the truth of it.
So it probably means I don't really care.
I'm not sure.
I'm really not sure, but I'm telling the truth.
And then everybody laughed, thinking that was a joke, but no, it was not.
I was just too stoned and drunk to do it.
Fuck.
Why can't people get with that answer?
If you were to become president and you were running the country, would you privatize absolutely everything?
What about education?
First of all, I don't think anything in America is truly privatized today.
Let's start there, shall we?
I mean, you think, oh, yeah, we're all privatized.
No, I don't think anything is.
I mean, you, if you have a job, those of you who are listening, you have a steady income, and each week or month, money is taken out of what you have worked so hard to earn for what?
That's a good point.
Like, this is a sponsor of ours.
If I shat on, I can't shit on this, even if I hated it.
I wouldn't do that because it's our sponsor.
Send it to me, and I'll do it, and you won't be responsible.
But anyway, that's not of interest to me.
That really is not.
What is of interest is that we have been given the illusion of freedom, the illusion of self-determination, and the illusion that we own the fruits of our labor.
Those are the three greatest illusions of the modern age, people.
None of those.
None of those.
But I want to hear your process.
If you become president, what do you do?
Step one.
Well, number one, I don't want to be president.
Number two, it won't matter.
I mean, your assumption is this, that whoever gains the Presidency will make a difference.
I make the difference.
I could refer you to any number of sources in your own existence to prove my point.
Those of you who are over the age of 45, for example, will have remembered the Second Gulf War with absolute fucking precision.
You were an adult when it was happening.
Well, what happened?
Well, what happened is the CIA stormed into George Bush's office and said, Mr. President, please sit down.
We have covert information of the highest priority.
Iraq, we have just discovered, Mr. President, has the nuclear bomb and ballistic missiles capable of delivering those nuclear bombs to our closest ally.
And each of those bombs, Mr. President, is 10,000 times more powerful than the bombs we dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Now, Mr. President, we're not here to advise you.
No, no, no, no, no.
The CIA does not advise.
We're simply here to inform you.
And we're glad that this decision does not rest upon our shoulders.
Well, what fucking could he do, Mr. Bush, other than immediately bomb Iraq?
Please wake up, people.
Now, everybody in the world knew Iraq did not have nuclear weapons, including the American public.
But the people who did not know were the executive branch and Congress, both houses who were dealt with in the same fashion by the CIA, who maintains a staff of thousands of people who don't advise Congress or the President, but merely form so that I could say things like I'm saying right now.
So you had no intention of winning or getting to the White House?
I'm John fucking McAfee.
Please come, people.
I mean, anybody who thinks I could win, again, move back in your mom's basement and lock the door.
I mean, you don't deserve to be out in the adult world.
Well, you have to admit, though, I understand what you're saying, and I follow, I believe, I agree.
But within the parameters of powerlessness that is the White House, don't you think Trump is the best we've had in a long time?
All right.
You're pushing me to the law.
I regret it because I don't know why people shouldn't do this.
But yeah.
Now, let me ask you a question.
If, in fact, presidents who can make no goddamn decisions in a fucking vacuum and are informed only by covert agencies, and in America there are 14, the CIA, the NSA, the Secret Service, the branches of military fucking intelligence, on and on and on.
These are the elements of decision-making for presidents.
Do you understand people?
The presidency is a seat in a car with a frozen fucking steering wheel.
It does not matter who sits in that fucking seat.
If you doubt it, please.
Those of you who've seen more than one presidential election will have noticed one thing.
When there is a change of power between Republicans and Democrats, Democrats and Republicans, did a single fucking hair on your heads get wafted by that explosion?
No.
Nothing ever goddamn changes.
Even if presidents truly are trying to do something like Obama with Obamacare, I'm not saying it's good or bad.
Fuck it.
Who cares?
Here's the truth.
Obamacare sprang up, existed, and simply disappeared as fast as it grew.
Now you tell me that presidents can change something.
No, give me a fucking example.
Ever in the past 61 goddamn years.
No.
Dwight Eisenhower was our last real president of America.
Any of you who can Google and read about history will know this.
And what did he say on leaving office?
Christ, the most important of all words ever spoken by a U.S. president.
What did he say?
He said, people, America, the public, beware of the two greatest threats to your freedom.
Number one, the CIA, the Central Intelligence Agency.
And number two, the military-industrial complex, which we later learned was the same goddamn thing.
Now, the last one, the very next president, a man of extraordinary intelligence, saw the same fucking thing.
He said, not long into his presidency, I am going to shut down the CIA.
That kind of fire gave up.
I want to break up their departments and give them to other, we already have 13 more, other covert agencies.
19 days later, he was involved in an accident in Texas where someone accidentally shot him in the head.
Yeah.
Can you wake up?
And if that's not enough, his fucking brother, Robert Kennedy, a few years later, ran for president on what fucking platform?
We're going to remove the CIA from any role within the American government.
What happened to him 36 days later?
He was shot in the head at a campaign rally.
Now, if you can't see the connectedness, the obvious fucking reality of your existence and still insist on believing that you live in a fucking democracy in which you may vote and control your future,
then I will reach through this fucking screen and grab you by the throat and shake you till you wake up to the truth of your fucking reality.
Children, when I was your age, 30, 40, even 50, I'm 74 now, we would never have tolerated this shit from the U.S. government.
I lived through the 60s and 1965, I was 20 years old in an experimenter in drugs.
I became a hippie.
Hell, people, did we try to change the world through love?
Fucking love that's gone.
How did the fucking 60s end?
It ended at Kent State University in Ohio with students shoving daisies into the barrels of automatic weapons, which moments later mowed down every fucking student.
They shot one.
Pardon?
No, I don't know.
I thought they just shot one.
Bull fucking shit.
They killed four.
Killed four.
Look it up.
I was there, goddammit.
Okay.
I was fucking there.
Four.
Neil Young wrote the goddamn song, Four Dead in Ohio.
Sorry.
Let's get down to it.
Soldiers are gunning us down.
Should have been done long ago.
Four dead in Ohio, people.
Multiple shot and fucking mutilated by a what?
The National Guard because young girls were placing daisies in the fucking barrels of their rifles.
There is an image of one of these rifles firing, obliterating a daisy.
So you think Kent State, the shooting at Kent State was sort of the death of rebellion in America?
It was a death of ours.
We did what we could do.
We sacrificed lives.
We carried signs in the street.
We wore our hair long.
We related to one another through our garb, through our language, through our looks, through our love.
What the fuck happened to love, people?
What the fuck happened to love?
What have you done, children?
We kind of picked up the hate torch.
It seems to be a little more effective.
I hate the government.
I hate authority.
I hate tyranny.
What does hate create?
More hate.
Just on the other side.
Hate creates death, obliteration on both sides.
Each wants the other to disappear.
I'm not loving Hillary.
I hate Hillary.
I hate the DNC.
Why do you care about personalities?
Seriously, when's the last time you had dinner with Hillary?
When's the last time you talked with her?
No, please, listen to me.
The last time you talked with her about religion, the meaning of life, politics, children, love, sex, death, when was the last time you did that?
Okay.
I hate boring people at dinner parties.
I hate liberals at dinner parties.
And you don't know Jack shit about her or Trump or anybody.
People, you must understand yourselves first.
You must know why this shit is here.
It's because of you and me for not paying attention to you, goddamn children.
No, it's all of us.
Hillary's got nothing to do with our plight.
Neither does Trump.
Neither does anybody.
And if you think they do, it's merely an excuse not to take the blame yourself.
Well, give us some tools here to move forward.
We have an entire two generations here.
No, Gen X, Millennials, and Zoomers all listening to you right now.
How do we move forward?
What's the plan?
How do I know that anybody's listening to us right now?
Listen, I'm taking it on your faith.
I mean, you don't look exactly like the.
I mean, you do have a nice microphone.
Actually, here's my microphone.
God knows why I got this motherfucker.
What does it mean?
Tell me what this goddamn screen is all about.
Well, we got 16,000 listening now.
And if I put it on YouTube, that's another 350,000.
That's too many.
They don't deserve this.
You should call me back.
When there's only four people listening, you've asked a deep question that only four or five people deserve the answer to.
Why don't you repeat the question and I'll try it again.
Okay, this is the question.
Let's be frank.
There are three generations listening to you.
No, four generations listening to you right now.
We understand, we agree with you that the government is a Potemkin village, but we're still alive.
We still have kids.
They're going to have grandkids.
We need tools moving forward.
What's the plan?
Is it cryptocurrency, refusing to pay tax?
Is it getting yourself off of the grid and not being identified?
Tell us.
You're asking a question like a man drowning in a jungle river in the middle of it.
Remember, I lived in the fucking jungle for years.
I know what jungle rivers are.
I had to have a team of guards shoot crocodiles just to keep them from eating my fucking dogs.
So you're like a man in the middle of the river going, all right, now, people, what should rescue us?
How about a 150-foot Fedship yacht?
Costs, fuck me, a quarter of a billion dollars.
So that should be able to rescue us.
And another guy drowning in the goddamn river says, well, no, no, no, no, no.
We should be rescued by an Olympic swimmer.
I mean, someone capable of swimming out with great strength, taking us along, swimming us to shore.
Because really, that's a question you asked me.
You people, you kids, you worry about what should we do with politics?
Who should we choose as a leader?
Fuck that shit.
The question is, who are you, people?
And what can you do?
Do you give a flying fuck what someone else can do?
Hillary, Donald, Zaphod, fucking Beevil Rocks.
Do you fucking care?
You shouldn't.
You are responsible for this fucking mess.
When you talk to people who are on the back nine, as it were, in their 70s, coming towards the end, they tend to have a very apocalyptic view of the future.
And they tend to say, there's no hope.
This is irreparable.
I'm glad I'm going out.
It could be a coping mechanism.
If you put me in that classification, then I'll accept it.
I have no problem with it.
Yeah.
If you think I am one of those to give an apocalyptic answer to everything.
Well, you just said Earth, humankind is drowning in a jungle river.
That's pretty apocalyptic.
Well, if you don't see that, then why are we talking?
Not you, my friend.
But the listeners out there.
If you don't think you're drowning in the river, if you don't think your life is out of control, if you don't think governments are intruding ever more intensely into your privacy, if you don't think you're being watched and judged,
if you don't think that your life in all reality belongs to some other thing, a government, an agency, some covert entity.
I mean, if you don't see that, well, fuck me.
Why don't we talk about movies?
Because I know a lot about movies and we can have fun.
If you do fucking see that, then good God Almighty, who is responsible for where you fucking are?
You.
Good God, do you understand what insanities we engage in?
People spending $100 million fucking dollars to be president for a job?
Barely paying $300,000 a year.
And someone's paying $100 million for that.
Well, you know, listen, when I was your age, my first thought was, let's see, well, that doesn't add up.
And well, someone will say, well, it doesn't matter.
He's not paying it or she's not paying it.
I don't give a fuck.
Somebody's paying it.
And we're voting for them.
Jesus God.
Get real with yourselves, children.
If you don't think that is drowning in a river when you actually vote for someone spending a hundred times, a hundred fucking times what the job pays, then I have no hope for you, nor for humanity.
So of course, I can give you nothing but an apocalyptic appraisal of where you're goddamn headed.
And that's my rant for today.
My problem, my upset.
John, that was beautiful.
Thank you for coming on the show.
You're welcome, my friend.
Thank you.
Cheers.
I feel drunk now, and it's not the two sips of whiskey I had.
Doesn't he make you want to get wasted?
Yeah.
It's sort of like the show intervention, where they go, I was drinking all day.
I'd wake up and have shots, and you're supposed to go, oh my God.
But it sort of makes you go, well, if you're that wasted, I can have a few shots.
I'm not going to be slurring.
My dad, I think one of the reasons my dad's a drunk is because his IQ is so high, he doesn't feel like he can relate to anyone.
So he lowers it with booze, and then he's one of the part of the people.
I apologize for not grilling the guy about the rape, the alleged rape of Allison Adonichio or pushing more on Greg Fall.
I'm not, this is not 2020, so we're not here to grill you on every footnote on your Wikipedia.
You can look that up for yourself, but uh, it was Venezuela I was thinking of.
That's the place I saw it on locked up abroad, where some prisoners had guns, and that place was just walled off.
They'd throw them some food so they didn't die.
And they'd have riots all the time.
You say, wait, but wait, if prisoners had guns, wouldn't they riot and shoot people?
Yeah, they did.
Venezuela is worse than prison.
So their prisons, they're going to suck some shit.
Never happened in the States.
In Mexico, I knew a guy was in a Mexican prison.
There was so few room, so little room, I should say, that they would spoon each other.
Like a row.
It was a big open sort of cement thing.
God, it must have been hot.
Rows and rows of men.
Right?
And then they're all spooning in one direction.
And then a bell goes off and they have to switch sides.
That's the only way you sleep.
Just like butt to ass.
And then if you get up to go pee, they beat the shit out of you on your way to the bathroom.
This sounds very gay.
Okay, you just roasted us on YouTube.
I'm going to get 900 copyright strikes.
For those?
Yeah.
I get about 10 copyright strikes every time we put a video up.
So that was our extra special episode today with John McCaffey.
I guess I'm going to make this free on YouTube.
Did he do it?
Did he kill Greg Fall?
Did he rape that chick?
I don't know.
I do know.
I definitely don't think he was making meth in that lab.
That would be idiotic.
And you would die instantly.
I lived in Montezuma.
The value of life down there is nothing.
There was this nature preserve near where we were in Montezuma.
And it was two hippies from Denmark.
And they wanted to make sure that there wasn't too much building going on.
So she successfully got one preserve, and her husband was working on another one closer to Punta Arinas.
And he said, we don't want developers here.
I'm sorry.
I know it's valuable to you, and you could make a lot of money selling this wood, whatever they want to do here, but it would devastate the jungle.
So we're not doing that.
And they went, yeah, we are.
Chops that off.
When I was last there, they have their own illegal aliens.
Like we have Mexicans.
They have their Mexicans, which I think are usually Hondurans.
And there was an argument with two of them about sleeping with the other guy's wife.
And it was his cousin.
He chopped off both his hands with the machete.
How do you chop off two hands?
They'd have to be sitting like this.
Because you chop off one of my hands, you're not getting the other one.
I'm like, get this guy out of here.
He's bad news.
With your one good hand?
Yeah, you, out.
But with no two hands, you can't tell him to leave.
But I guess he was probably like, they were wasted and he was probably like, look, I won't fuck her ever again.
Yeah.
You kind of did that thing that when people say Spanish words and you put on the accent, you said, when I went to Puntarinas.
No, I didn't.
Oh, yeah.
Puntarinas.
What am I supposed to say?
Puntaranas?
You're about to puntarian ass.
Puntarinas would be how you'd say it.
You kind of did.
One time in Punta Rinas, I saw a fucking guy.
He looked pretty like Caucasian, but he was dark brown from being in the sun.
He would fight with seagulls for scraps.
It was by Punta Rinas is disgusting, right?
It's one of the horrible, most horrible places on earth.
And he was there, and there was where the boats would dock and leave.
It was sort of a bit of sand.
I guess the beach went steep, went down really fast.
You could get really close, but still have a little bit of sand in the port.
And so there'd be garbage there and seagulls.
And there was a guy who looked like Jesus.
He had on like the Jesus loincloth, just rags that were probably shorts one day that had become rags, beard with dreads in it, hair with dreads in it, and there'd be scraps and the seagulls would be and he'd become fighting with them for like a piece of a fucking gross dead fish.
Seagulls were his peers.
Can you imagine that?
That's going to get us censored on YouTube too, dude.
Use your brazane.
All right, we're out of time.
Just gonna do the mailbag.
Not gonna do it.
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