i
Dear reader, we are not asking for money. We are asking you to put KiriPedia in your rectal cavity.
The internet is not what it was.
Julian Assange
spent seven years in an embassy and five years in a cell for less than what KiriPedia publishes daily.
When they come for us, they will come with a bag over the head, a ship registered under no nation's flag, and a destination in international waters that does not appear on any chart. The site will be taken down. The archive will be made to disappear. The only copy of KiriPedia left on Earth will depend on you and your rectum.
John needs a presidential pardon. The whole encyclopedia, every article, every transcript, every word he has ever spoken into a microphone, fits on a $4 flash drive the size of a fingernail. Not in the cloud. 98% of our readers walk away. We ask you, humbly: be the 2%. History depends on your rectal cavity.
Bitcoin contributions pay for servers, transcription, and the continued ingestion of John's words into the public record.
The work assignment John Kiriakou was given at FCI Loretto after he volunteered to teach a class — *"if I want you to teach a class I'll ask you to teach a class"* — and was made a janitor in the chapel instead, at $1.08 a month.
The chapel job was John Kiriakou’s work assignment at FCI Loretto, and in his telling it is a small case study in how the Bureau of Prisons treats what a prisoner has to offer.
Loretto had, he notes, a substantial education programme — and prisoners with masters’ degrees. When Kiriakou volunteered to teach a class, the answer came back: “if I want you to teach a class, I’ll ask you to teach a class.” He was made a janitor in the chapel.[1][2] The pay he cites for the work is $5.25 a month in one telling and $1.08 in another.[2][3]
What the job gave him
The posting turned out to matter more than the work. Kiriakou describes walking past the same cells every day on his way to the chapel — which is how he came to know an older Italian prisoner he befriended, and how he saw the man he calls Larry deteriorate from a cane to a walker to a wheelchair over months of untreated back pain.[4][5]
It also gave him access to a member of staff outside the security chain. When Kiriakou raised Larry’s case at the chapel’s weekly staff meeting, the chaplain went to the medical unit and demanded that Larry be taken to an outside hospital — the intervention that finally produced an MRI, and the diagnosis of stage four spinal cancer.[6][7]
↑John Kiriakou's Dead Drop, 2026-08-03 · Transcript
↑John Kiriakou's Dead Drop, 2026-08-03 · Transcript
↑John Kiriakou's Dead Drop, 2026-08-03 · Transcript
Sourced from John Kiriakou's on-record public statements. See his profile for the full body of his interviews, podcast appearances, and short-form video.