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.
John Kiriakou's account of finding the grave of an obscure Treasury Department clerk who, during the 1814 British burning of Washington, rescued the Declaration of Independence, Constitution, Bill of Rights, and Washington's military commission from the National Archives — and who, after later being deemed too difficult, was quietly transferred to the National Lighthouse Service, where out of boredom he invented the refractor light still used in American lighthouses today.
The Remains of the Day Treasury clerk story is John Kiriakou’s account of finding the grave of an obscure Treasury Department clerk who, during the 1814 British burning of Washington, went to the National Archives after everyone else had fled and rescued the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and George Washington’s military commission, rolling the documents into a sheet and hiding them in the rafters of a barn in Leesburg, Virginia until the British were pushed out.[1]
Kiriakou says the same clerk was later considered difficult by his superiors, who — rather than fire him and set a bad precedent — quietly transferred him to a dead-end post managing the National Lighthouse Service. Bored in the job, he invented the refractor light, which is still used in American lighthouses today and now bears his name.[2]
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.