From Cell to Sale: McAfee’s Oddities Up for Grabs!

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Imagine, if you will, a digital bazaar where the detritus of crypto’s most flamboyant escapades is hawked to the highest bidder. Scarce City, a marketplace for “freedom goods” (read: things that beep angrily when you wave them at a customs officer), has unveiled the “John McAfee Collection”-a motley assortment of relics once clutched by the antivirus baron turned crypto-rockstar turned prison-yard statistic.

McAfee’s Afterlife: When Your Estate Includes a Slingshot and a Podcast Mic

Five years ago, John McAfee exited this mortal coil in a manner that’s been described as “ambiguous,” which is a posh way of saying no one’s quite sure if he hanged himself or was nudged. His widow, Janice, has spent half a decade scribbling footnotes in the margins of this obituary, suggesting darker forces were at play. One imagines her muttering, “Oh, posh!” at the very idea of a straightforward suicide.

Before his grand exit, McAfee had become the sort of chap who’d shout “Liberty!” at dawn, wave a bitcoin whitepaper like a flag, and predict the cryptocurrency would hit $1 million “by Christmas!”-a claim he’d later blame on “excessive espresso and optimism.” He championed crypto as a middle finger to surveillance states, which is rich coming from a man who once owned a pair of binoculars specifically for “watching the watchers.”

Image source: Scarce City John McAfee Collection

His company, MGT, dabbled in bitcoin mining, which they probably thought made them sound like prospectors in the Yukon. By 2020, McAfee was nabbed at Barcelona’s airport, presumably mid-sip of his third espresso. Now, Scarce City is auctioning 14 of his “personal effects”-a phrase that here means “things he left lying around while dodging extradition.”

The lot reads like a pirate’s garage sale: passport, prison razor, a harmonica set (for serenading wardens), Ray Bans (to squint at the paparazzi), and a slingshot-because nothing says “crypto anarchist” like a weapon that could take out a squirrel. Bidding requires a BTC deposit, which Scarce City burns if you ghost. Presumably, this is to prevent McAfee’s ghost from bidding.

Image source: Scarce City John McAfee Collection

Scarce City, ever the carnival barker for chaos, previously auctioned Ross Ulbricht’s “freedom goods”-a term that’ll make historians giggle for decades. Among McAfee’s treasures is a Venetian mask, described as a “whimsical memento” from his European road trip. The listing adds, with a straight face, that it’s “ornate but lousy at hiding one’s identity.” A metaphor for McAfee’s entire life, really.

“This mask,” Scarce City croons, “is a symbol of playfulness and jest.” One pictures McAfee donning it at a Venetian masquerade, only to be recognized instantly because, let’s face it, he’d be the only one sweating through the eyeholes.

In sum, the auction feels like a yard sale at the madhouse McAfee called home. The items-his passport, a knife, and a microphone-scream “chaotic technologist!” but mostly scream “please don’t touch.” Even in death, McAfee’s legacy is a romp-a man who lived life like a poorly scripted Bond film and left behind a treasure trove of knickknacks for the internet’s resident eccentrics to squabble over.

FAQ ❓

  • What’s up for sale, you ask? Fourteen items, including a passport (to nowhere good), sunglasses (to see nowhere clearly), and a razor (to shave nowhere safely).
  • Where’s this circus happening? On Scarce City, a bitcoin playground for people who think “blockchain” is a euphemism for “chaos.”
  • When do the bidding shenanigans start? Bidding’s open until Jan. 29, 2026. Set your reminders; McAfee would’ve hated punctuality.
  • How does one bid without losing their shirt? Fork over a BTC deposit. Ghost the payment, and Scarce City burns it like a pyromaniac at a bonfire.

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2026-01-23 01:37