Variety Jones in the news.

[Munchy]

I'm 100% sure ~S and PoM were 2 different people.
Once upon a time, he was busy trying to copy the entire OG tank, page-by-page, and asked for my help to do it. If he was ~S, he would've simply had access to the database. We talked quite a bit, and he was always quite open about his identity. We were in Amsterdam together when ~S had outed Psychotropic Nomad as the Karma Bandit. That week, he had certainly been too busy trying to get ICMAG online to be running OG as well.

and as for the other possible connection, although PoM said "yer" and "heh" a lot, he was also always good at spelling. Bad spelling has always been a big tell, because those who can't spell for shit, either don't even realize it, or just can't help it. Maybe there's another reason for that, like texting on a little cellphone, but good speller tend to correct their typos. But I can see the similarities, and the part about being willing to meet up, when PoM had posted pics of himself, is a bit perplexing. But I don't know, all that doesn't really sound like his MO at all... nor did the way the conversation went... to me that Cimon guy sounded kinda like a DEA agent, and I'd bet he had dropped the name and tried to copy POM's style as a misdirection tactic, just to gain DPR's trust.

[Jesús Malverde]

I noticed a doc Clark had previously posted on the planetganja site related to GN- http://antilop.cc/sr/files/gypsy_nirvana_limited.pdf" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false; that as far as I can tell has no discernible relation to any of the other material on the site. Its inclusion in the listed docs seems to have almost nothing to do with the SR drama and makes no sense to me in that context. I guess it establishes Clark's identity, but Clark had long ago already publicly outed himself so he could make a legal run at GN. Why they chose that one document out of the many Clark published on PG? NFI

This site here is essentially an outgrowth of the now defunct plantganja.com (PG) site referenced above. PG which in itself was in a real sense an outgrowth of the overgrow.com site that ~shabang~ was instrumental in and about which much was written and published online and which was taken down by the RCMP after ~shabang~ had been pushed out. PG's owner and head admin going under the name of Gadabout, under the cockamamie pretense of the server having been stolen by a business partner, pulled the plug on PG without warning. Much of this drama and contemporary reactions to that can be found here archived. Now Gad (or one of the people using the Gad handle if you want to go down that road, I'm not) made a couple of slip-ups in opsec, and that's my guess as the real reason the PG was switched off. And there were definitely relationships between Gad and ~s and Clark-Pom-VJ (or people using those handles at any rate) at some point in time even if we know very little about what they actually were. One major problem with trying to tie Clark with whomever posted as VJ or ~shabang~ at SR is the anonymous post linked to above:

PoM's not dead
Postby News » Sun Oct 23, 2011 10:13 pm

Until the other day, I hadn't visited PG in well over a year, and saw the hes gone thread about Mia Stoner, and Munchy mentioned he's probably chillaxin at the big coffeeshop in the sky with Mongoose. Not so.

About 2 months ago I went to visit my cousin at Wandsworth Prison because he was arrested during riots in London. While going through the search line before the visit, I saw Nicky who used to run Gypsy Nirvana where I have got several tattoos over the years, and asked her what she was doing at Wandsworth. It turns out she was there visiting Mongoose.

When we got in for our visits, I ended up sitting at the table next to them, and it was in fact PoM, looking a little worse for wear than he was a few years ago when I saw him. Honestly, he looked like he weighed about 7 stone, or under 100 pounds. He was in great spirits though, and he remembered me from coming in to buy seeds back in the day.

He is in Wandsworths B wing, the same wing my cousin is in, and according to my cousin he is the kind of guy that 'does time easy' which is rare for a guy pushing 50. My cousin says that he teaches reading to some of the inmates, and is working on a book. He also apparently holds court in the exercise yard a couple of times a week and teaches the basics of growing weed, something the guards are all aware of and think is funny as hell. He moves a little slow and is a bit shakey on his feet, but my cousin says he doesn't have any problems in there, described him as sitting at the top of the food chain with the other prisoners.

I've been back to visit my cousin a couple of times since then, and the story I've pieced together is that a few years ago PoM was at a large commercial grow when it got busted, and they traced a second grow from there, and he was charged with them both. He pled guilty to both charges at his first court appearance, and refused to answer any questions for the prosecutor and judge, only insisting he acted alone. Normally in the UK if you plead guilty at the first opportunity, you automatically get 1/3 off your sentence, but the prosecutor painted him as the head of a complex criminal organization, so he got a full sentence of 5 years with no 1/3 off. They also used that to classify him as high-risk for escape, which is why he's at Wandsworth, one of the toughest prisons in the UK, instead of some country club prison in the country.

My cousin is going to be there until around Christmas, so I'm sure I'll get a chance to see PoM again on another visit. I certainly hope so, I want to hear about that book he's writing.

With good behaviour, he should be released around May of next year.

If Tom Clark were in prison as reported the day the VJ and ~shabang~ handles were registered on the SR site, that's a pretty decent alibi unless Clark had a Tor router on his prison ass phone. Of course nobody has bothered to check if the story of Clark being in Wandsworth is correct, which is something probably easily verifiable at any major public library or law office in England with db perms or through a public information request. I'm still digging through the relevant material at the Antilop site.

I have a feeling we may be just a hop or two from having all the pieces fitted into place. The question perhaps is, should we?

[johndoe_]

I noticed a doc Clark had previously posted on the planetganja site related to GN- http://antilop.cc/sr/files/gypsy_nirvana_limited.pdf" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false; that as far as I can tell has no discernible relation to any of the other material on the site. Its inclusion in the listed docs seems to have almost nothing to do with the SR drama and makes no sense to me in that context. I guess it establishes Clark's identity, but Clark had long ago already publicly outed himself so he could make a legal run at GN. Why they chose that one document out of the many Clark published on PG? NFI

As I said previously I'm not familiar with the cannabis/breeder community, but much more about Silk Road. A month ago I've never heard of any of the name we're discussing now. However I've done a fair amount of research, which accidentally led me here, and this is the first time I've seen that document published. The other one I've seen before was the document from a court in the UK giving back GN Gipsy Nirvana Ltd. I suppose the Peter Robert Jones in the doc is an alias?

As for the material posted on PG, OG etc., it is all gone. Except few threads related to the drama PoM/Gypsy there isn't much out there anymore.

This site here is essentially an outgrowth of the now defunct plantganja.com (PG) site referenced above. PG which in itself was in a real sense an outgrowth of the overgrow.com site that ~shabang~ was instrumental in and about which much was written and published online and which was taken down by the RCMP after ~shabang~ had been pushed out. PG's owner and head admin going under the name of Gadabout, under the cockamamie pretense of the server having been stolen by a business partner, pulled the plug on PG without warning.

Much of this drama and contemporary reactions to that can be found here archived. Now Gad (or one of the people using the Gad handle if you want to go down that road, I'm not) made a couple of slip-ups in opsec, and that's my guess as the real reason the PG was switched off. And there were definitely relationships between Gad and ~s and Clark-Pom-VJ (or people using those handles at any rate) at some point in time even if we know very little about what they actually were.

Thanks for the history bit, it is very interesting.

One major problem with trying to tie Clark with whomever posted as VJ or ~shabang~ at SR is the anonymous post linked to above:

PoM's not dead
Postby News » Sun Oct 23, 2011 10:13 pm

Until the other day, I hadn't visited PG in well over a year, and saw the hes gone thread about Mia Stoner, and Munchy mentioned he's probably chillaxin at the big coffeeshop in the sky with Mongoose. Not so.

About 2 months ago I went to visit my cousin at Wandsworth Prison because he was arrested during riots in London. While going through the search line before the visit, I saw Nicky who used to run Gypsy Nirvana where I have got several tattoos over the years, and asked her what she was doing at Wandsworth. It turns out she was there visiting Mongoose.

When we got in for our visits, I ended up sitting at the table next to them, and it was in fact PoM, looking a little worse for wear than he was a few years ago when I saw him. Honestly, he looked like he weighed about 7 stone, or under 100 pounds. He was in great spirits though, and he remembered me from coming in to buy seeds back in the day.

He is in Wandsworths B wing, the same wing my cousin is in, and according to my cousin he is the kind of guy that 'does time easy' which is rare for a guy pushing 50. My cousin says that he teaches reading to some of the inmates, and is working on a book. He also apparently holds court in the exercise yard a couple of times a week and teaches the basics of growing weed, something the guards are all aware of and think is funny as hell. He moves a little slow and is a bit shakey on his feet, but my cousin says he doesn't have any problems in there, described him as sitting at the top of the food chain with the other prisoners.

I've been back to visit my cousin a couple of times since then, and the story I've pieced together is that a few years ago PoM was at a large commercial grow when it got busted, and they traced a second grow from there, and he was charged with them both. He pled guilty to both charges at his first court appearance, and refused to answer any questions for the prosecutor and judge, only insisting he acted alone. Normally in the UK if you plead guilty at the first opportunity, you automatically get 1/3 off your sentence, but the prosecutor painted him as the head of a complex criminal organization, so he got a full sentence of 5 years with no 1/3 off. They also used that to classify him as high-risk for escape, which is why he's at Wandsworth, one of the toughest prisons in the UK, instead of some country club prison in the country.

My cousin is going to be there until around Christmas, so I'm sure I'll get a chance to see PoM again on another visit. I certainly hope so, I want to hear about that book he's writing.

With good behaviour, he should be released around May of next year.

If Tom Clark were in prison as reported the day the VJ and ~shabang~ handles were registered on the SR site, that's a pretty decent alibi unless Clark had a Tor router on his prison ass phone.

Very good point, it should be pretty easy to check. As you said it is an anonymous post, If I'm not mistaken, smokebreaks thought (or knew) it was posted by GN and you thought it was from a guy named Colin? Not sure how and why you guys thought that, but let say it was pseudonymous and you had an informed opinion on it. For now there isn't any point to speculate more and one should first check any inmate registry available in the UK to have an a definitive answer.

I have a feeling we may be just a hop or two from having all the pieces fitted into place. The question perhaps is, should we?

I have the same feeling, some pieces of the puzzle starts getting together.

As for the question, is it worth digging further and fit all the pieces together, well it isn't my say. I don't know, and you're raising a very valid question for which I don't have answer. However you all know better than anyone how PoM or ~s or whatever nym they've been using before, can stir shit and be manipulative. I would be LE I would use them to infiltrate other marketplaces, they have technical skills, knowledge of the scene and probably made a lot of contact during their time on SR. Considering how deep the investigation on SR was, and the amount of data collected by LE between the SR servers and Ulbricht laptop I find it difficult to believe they didn't identify VJ. Keep in mind VJ was also being paid in bitcoin. Depending how careful he was before withdrawing it might also be as simple as following the blockchain and requesting a warrant for whatever exchange he used. LE using them is no sci-fi.

I'm still digging through the relevant material at the Antilop site.

If I can help and pinpoint some things you're after let me know.

To go back to Variety Jones, what's his history? He was on OG as well? It seems you all know him/them under the VJ nym.

[Jesús Malverde]

Well, I've been informed (and thank you) that it is entirely possible to connect to Tor on an Android phone, if fact there's at least one app out there that apparently makes it pretty easy. And if UK prisons are like US/Canadian ones--and why wouldn't they be?--there will be nearly as many clandestine phones inside as there are warm smelly places to hide them. Did you know it can even be possible to tell what model of phone a prisoner is using by the shape his soap is carved into? I'm serious.

I'm still reading through all the posts/threads posted to the SR forum by ~s and VJ and it's leading me towards to a conclusion, even if I haven't arrived yet.

Smokes, does this prose style sound familiar?

*** I smoke a joint and wrote this in about 30 minutes. I haven't read it myself, nor proofed it for error or content. I hope someone enjoys reading it. ***


Darren squirmed in the custon molded Road Chair, struggling, and failing, to find a comfortable position.

"Goddmmit!" he thought.

"Why does Grant always call in sick on Thursdays, the lazy bastard. He knows I had a date tonight." Darren muttered.

But even while he was muttering, he kept a close eye on the readings on the screens around him. This was a family business, and Darren was minding the complex web of constant flowing transactions that were his families lifeblood.

There!

A new order had burbled up on the main screen, a freighter in the asteroid belts wanted a couple of tonnes of cannabis. He wiggled his fingers in the data-web control, and brought up the potential clients history. It was a C class freighter, fairly new to the business with only a couple of 11 months runs out to Io, and a few smaller local hops around the belt to its credit.

He continued to tease more information out of the data-web with his right hand, while at the same time his left hand unconciously called up inventory and shipping manifests from his suppliers, cross-referencing them with requirement forecasts for the week. 2 tonnes wasn't a large order for a belter ship, by any means, but if he fucked this up, it would wipe out the profits for the day; and it had been a long day.

Sighing, he bagan calculating the drop-shipping routes that he'd need if he accepted the contract. While doing this he kept his eyes on the tertiary screens, sending out confirmation notices for smaller orders, answering client inquiries about stock availability, and performing dozens of other simple tasks that almost seemed meaningless. Meaningless, that is, unless you fucked up one of them.

He shivered in the Road Chair, considering for a moment what would happen if he fucked up some minor detail, and it came back to haunt the business later. Grant would laugh at him, and Dad would lecture him for hours.

And Grampa Jones. Grampa Jones would be fucking livid.

"Livid about what?" said the voice of Grampa Jones, behind him.

Darren froze for a microsecond. Goddammit, he must have been talking out loud. Just as quickly, he recovered, glad that he hadn't jumped, or shown outward signs of his surprise. Goddam, but Grampa Jones could sure sneak up on you quick, for an old guy.

"If we get scammed by this freighter," Darren said, nodding in the direction of the screen with the potential order flashing on it. "That would wipe out our profits for a day or two. But, if we don't take orders from newer clients, we'll never build up our business."

He confidently reached out and tapped the confirmation button, initiating the transaction and beaming a sub-ether message to the freighter captain that the order had been accepted and was processing.

"I was just think aloud, I'd already decided to accept the order."

Grampa Jones glanced at the details around the order, and nodded his aquiescience that Darren had made the right decision, this time. He slipped into the Road Chair beside him, and took in all the screens with a deep intensity that told Darren he was critically examining not just the current order he'd just accepted, but all the little tasks that he had been performing as well. Darren tried not to act nervous as Grampa Jones snorted and tsk'd and harrumph'd as he examined the days work.

Darren watched the old man out of the corner of his eye, hoping against hope that the old man didn't find some error he'd made, or problem that he hadn't sorted out yet. He relaxed as Grampa Jones sat back with a satisfied exhalation, his bones creaking as he strecthed his legs and made himself comfortable.

Grampa Jones wasn't just old, he was OLD, in capital letters. He was old when the rejuvination drugs were first discovered, and while they extended his life, he still aged, albeit slower. Rumor was he was over 300 years old, that was before they even had regular space travel! But his brain was still sharp as a tack, and he reached out and tapped the top of the screen, where Darrens operator name was.

And beside his name, was a '(98)' in big, bold, bright green letters.

"Ninety-eight, eh." Grampa Jones leaned forward, as if to confirm that yes, his eyes did not deceive him, his grandson's operator name was indeed 'Darren Jones(98)', and it wasn't a smear on the screen making a 'Darren Jones(100)' just look like a 'Darren Jones(98)' in fact.

"Ninety-eight." He said again, as if he was worried that Darren didn't hear him the first time.

Goddammit, Darren thought, it wasn't my fault. Or, more accurately, it wasn't ALL my fault. He'd got in a shipment that was a lower quality than he expected, and sent it out broken up in a couple of orders before he realized the problem. Things snowballed from there, there were a couple of complaints, and Darren was sure more than one of them was from his competion, smelling blood in the water, and hurrying to assist in assinating his character.But he knew better than to bitch to Grampa Jones about it. He knew *exactly* what he would say if he did. He'd say, "It is what it is. And what it is, is a ninety-eight."

Goddamit, this is going to be a long double shift if Grampa Jones starts to lecture me on my (98).

Grampa Jones, or more formally, 'Dr. V. Jones(100)' as everyone knew him for centuries, was a stickler about the family reputation. When Darren was young, he remembered asking him what the V. stood for. Grampa Jones laughed, and said that over the years, it has stood for a variety of things, and left it at that. One thing Darren knew for sure though, was while Grampa Jones may have changed his first name a few times, that (100) after his name was sancrosanct.

As the silence lengthened, Darren thought he could still hear the words 'ninety-eight' echoing off the walls. Goddammit, why couldn't this visit have happened 3 weeks ago, when the screen had a bright and cheerful 'Darren Jones(100)' on it. Or if Grant hadn't called in sick tonight. Or if that asshole hadn't slipped some moldy cannabis in that shipment. Or, or, or... Darren could feel the blood rushing to his face, as that (98) seemed to absolutely shine like a beacon on the screen.

He sensed the old man leaning forward next to him, and prepared himself for a tongue lashing. But instead of the invective he was expecting, Grampa Jones said, "I remember my first ninety-seven."

Darren froze.

For a full 30 seconds, Darren sat in the Road Chair, absolutely motionless.

His grandfather sat beside him, pulling out his stash pouch and began rolling a joint. Smoking cannabis while working the Road Chair wasn't allowed, but there wasn't anyone alive who was going to tell Dr. V. Jones(100), what the hell he could and couldn't do, Darren knew.

Darren was still sat there, shocked still, when Grampa Jones indicated one of the customer inquiry screens, and said, "So, you going to just sit there, or are you going to respond to those folks."

Goddammit!

Darren jolted into action, fielding the questions now scrolling off the bottom of the screen, juggling the tasks of dispatching orders, sending confirmations, answering questions, ordering new stock, and the 1001 and one other things required of a good Road operator.

30 seconds might not seem like a long time, but Darren knew that folks on the sub-ether communication net acted as if you had nothing in the world to do but deal with their problems and questions, as did the suppliers, shippers, and everyone else who worked or used the Road.

And Grampa Jones had taught him a long time ago, as soon as you get even a little bit behind, it can take forever to catch up. Folks who had inquiries start to send second ones, doubling the volume. Antsy customers start sending angry sub-ethers wanting to know where their orders are. All this was exacerbated by the new super-luminal freight cruisers in the game. They were captained by gearheads who had no notion of causality and who -- because of their faster-than-light perspective -- expected you to send the answers before they have even sent you a question!

It was a tiring and thankless task, and Darren loved every minute of it.

Soon, he was back in the groove, and the number of outstanding tasks started to dwindle as he competently worked the data-web controls, doing the work his family had done for centuries - getting contraband past the authorities and to the people that needed it.

And by authorities, he meant the pharmaceutical companies and the governments they controlled.

And by contraband, he meant anything that the pharmaceutical companies didn't control the supply and price of, and that the governments couldn't tax, regulate, and seize at their whim.

From cannabis to fresh cows milk, the Road carried the traffic that the people demanded, while the authorities, as they had for millienum, failed to stop them.

The sweet smell of burning cannabis wafted through the air as Darren flexed his fingers on the data-web controls, doing as his ancestors had for generations, sticking it to the man. Darren relaxed as he scanned the screens, and saw with satisfaction that there were no outstanding issues, and he glanced over at the old man next to him.

Grampa Jones proferred the lit joint, and Darren hesitated. "Go on, it's more of a what you'd call a 'guideline' as opposed to an actual rule. I'll take over for a few minutes, you need a break." Grampa Jones said, as he handed the spliff to him.

So he took the joint, and watched as Dr. V. Jones(100) slipped his hands into the data-web controls, and began scanning the screens. With a fluid grace he dealt with inquiries, examined the shipping manifestos, and carried out all the tasks of a vendor on the Road with skills that were honed over centuries.

The Road spanned the solar system, from the cities of Earth, to the moons of Jupiter and beyond, the Road was more than just a hidden network of vendors and customers, products and shipments. The Road was a concept, an idea, more than just an encrypted network and forwarding nodes. The Road was freedom, a way of life.

As Darren watched his grandfather work, he realized that the old man didn't just work the Road when he operated the road Chair, he was the Road. He took it personally when people couldn't get what they needed because some bureaucrat somewhere had declared it contraband. Whether it was an MS afflicted patient who needed cannabis, or some health nut who wanted unpasteurized milk, Dr. V. Jones(100) would do everything in his power to assist in skirting the rules and getting them what they wanted.

Grampa Jones had the same affliction that Darren had.

Grampa Jones *cared*.

Darren couldn't possibly believe that he had ever sported a (97).

"Actually, that's what I wanted to come to talk to you about." Grampa said, waving at the 'Darren Jones (98)' that still glowed accusingly at the top of the screen. "Don't worry, your not in trouble. Like I said, it could happen to anyone, myself included."

Proving that Darren had not in fact mis-heard him earlier, Grampa Jones looked over at Darren and said, "What, you're surprised I ever had a ninety-seven?" Darren just looked at him, his wide eyes betraying that he was indeed surprised.

"Shit, it happens to every vendor, once in a while. Not a goddam thing you can do about it, either. Oh, you try, and swear to yourself and your gods if you believe in them, that you'll never have less than a hunnert. But there aren't any gods to hear your prayers, and no matter how hard you try, in the end, Mr. Murphy's law will always catch up to you."

Darren had heard lots of stories about Mr. Murphy and his laws, collaries and axioms over the years from his grandfather. He didn't know exactly what Mr. Murphy did for a living, and gathered that he was a business partner and drinking buddy of his grandfather. He'd deduced this from the fact that most Mr. Murphy's observations seemed to stem from the results of an evening of drinking with Grampa Jones. He always thought that Mr. Murphy was kind of a negative Nancy, as his mother would say, and more than a bit of a pessimist. He'd ventured that thought to his grandfather one time, to which he replied, "Waht, Murphy, a pessimist?" He said, "No, son -- Murphy was a goddam optimist!"

Still, his grandfather must have liked Mr. Murphy, for he said that he never had a business that Mr. Murphy didn't play a large role in.

The old man, without taking his eyes off the information flowing accross all the screens reached out his hand, indicating with a motion that it was severely lacking in the possession of a cannabis cigarette at the moment. Darren handed the joint back to him, and Grampa Jones took a long, slow draw on it.

He handed it back to Darren, and continued his story.

"Was back in two-tousand-ought-ten, or ought-eleven, or thereabouts. We was on the original Road, back on Earth."

Darren pondered this for a moment. It was the year 2450 now, goddammit! Grampa Jones must be close to 500 years old!

"I don't recall the specifics now, which is funny, because at the time I thought it was the end of the world. I worked hard, and brought it back up, but that takes time, and it frustrated the hell outta me.

"But eventually, I got it back up to a hunnert, and swore it would always stay there.

"It didn't, of course.

"Eventually, I took another hit, and it dropped again. But this time, I said to myself I'm not going to beat myself up. I thought I'd been trying as hard as I could, but I resolved to just try a little bit harder.

"You see, everyone needs to have a (97) or a (98) after their name once in a while. It reminds you that you have to earn it, and keep earning it. Don't ever think that a hunnert is yours by right. It's not. You have to strive to maintain it, and even then Mr. Murphy can come along and fuck things up through absolutely no fault of your own.

"And all you can do then, is work at bringing it back up again.

"And as long as you keep trying, you'll be making the ghost of Mr. Road proud."

Grampa Jones looked at Darren. "What, you didn't know there was a Mr. Road?

"There sure was, he was the one that started it all. First name of Silk. Smart feller. We used to call it the Silk Road, back then. Over the centuries it evolved, and now it's just the Road. I even exchanged messages with him once.

"Was back in tousand-ought-eleven or so. He'd made some changes to the system in regards to postage -- that's how we paid for shipping back then -- in regards to how we charged for postage. I was in the process of entering hundreds of new items when the changes went into effect, and it broke all my new listings.

"But, I sent him a message right away, and he anwered in only minutes, and between us I explained the problem and he'd make some changes and then message back to see if it was fixed. Took a few tries, but soon enough everything was working as smooth as, well as smooth as silk.

"Couldn't ask fer a nicer feller, was polite and helpful through all our back and forth, and you could tell that he really cared that everything worked properly, that the Silk Road succeeded, and that we could all continue to vend our contraband in the face of the authorities that would otherwise have us under their heels."

Darren sat back, processing the tale. Imagine that! Grampa had actually exchanged messages with Mr. Road himself!

Grampa Jones nodded at Darren. "Here, you take over now. I'm gonna take a nap. And whatever you do, don't disturb me untils shifts end, got it!"

Darren assured him that he got it, slipped his hands back into the data-web controls, and concentrated on the business at hand, while Dr. V. Jones(100) snored quietly beside him.

A Short time later, he heard his grandfather give a little snort, and say "Goddammit!" quietly under his breath, and then he stopped breathing.

Darren turned and looked at the old man, laying back in the Road chair, with his hands touching the data-web controls, and a faint smile on his face. He briefly wondered what he should do, and then he realized that there was nothing he could do now. He glanced at the clock, there was two hours left on his shift.

He looked back at the old man, and decided he'd heed his last request, and leave him in the Road chair until the end of his shift, a part of the Road now, extending accross the solar system, spreading freedom as an idea. And Darren knew that someday he'd tell his grandchildren how his grandfather had actually exchanged messages with Mr. Road!

Darren broke out of his reverie, and glanced back at the screens. There were orders pouring in on one screen, and messages had already began scrolling off the bottom of another, while on a third alarms were ringing from suppliers who had problems...

Goddammit!

I'm still leaning towards the idea that if some of us with dribs and drabs of stuff we can't ethically post in public were hypothetically to get together privately around a table over beers and joints, we could probably reduce all the key players to short lists of possibles in a long evening. If not better. And the more possible that looks, the less and less I'm convinced I even want to know any of that really. These are real people who in spite of their sometimes self-aggrandizing and imperious seeming actions, maddening idiosyncrasies and self serving have also been courageous and valuable and added tremendous value to our--and everyone else interested's--knowledge. They have also been nucleation points for the generous dissemination of useful information and real communities to form around. As my and PoM's favorite PG admin had it in his signature, primum non nocere. Words to live by.

[smokebreaks]

The email, that the user registered that particular account that I say was none other than Gypsy, well, that was kinda interesting. I need to check into something further.

John Doe_

I will get back to you in a few days as I have a few places to look before I can answer your inquiries.

[A Bloke Down The Pub]

[smokebreaks]

I'm pretty sure we can piece together why Gad was looking for PoM back in 2013 now I reckon.

However as far as I know, and I have it on good authority that PoM and Variety Jones were not one in the same persons..that may have changed.

[johndoe_]

The email, that the user registered that particular account that I say was none other than Gypsy, well, that was kinda interesting. I need to check into something further.

That's confusing.

I will get back to you in a few days as I have a few places to look before I can answer your inquiries.

Thanks you sir.

[johndoe_]

Well, I've been informed (and thank you) that it is entirely possible to connect to Tor on an Android phone, if fact there's at least one app out there that apparently makes it pretty easy. And if UK prisons are like US/Canadian ones--and why wouldn't they be?--there will be nearly as many clandestine phones inside as there are warm smelly places to hide them. Did you know it can even be possible to tell what model of phone a prisoner is using by the shape his soap is carved into? I'm serious.

Yes it is https://guardianproject.info/" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;. But to operate the VJ/~S account from a cell is nonsense in my opinion. VJ was also doing biz on SR by selling seeds but also buying weed from several sources according to the forum posts.

Strangely enough, as I already mentioned before, he never mentions anything about growing it himself. He goes as far as saying that he likes to buy weed strains for which he is selling the seeds in order to have a stock for whatever type of seed he's selling, which you would agree isn't necessarily common. I would imagine that even if you're not doing weed business out of the seeds directly one would at least grow a bit for personal use, specially when being a med user....

Seems GN also agreed with that analysis to some extend.

I'm still reading through all the posts/threads posted to the SR forum by ~s and VJ and it's leading me towards to a conclusion, even if I haven't arrived yet.

Smokes, does this prose style sound familiar?

What are you conclusions/speculations?

It might looks like I'm pointing fingers at PoM but I don't really give a fuck if it is PoM or anyone else, only from what I got from the SR forum, elements are pointing toward PoM. Is it a misdirection? I wouldn't be able to say and you probably have a better idea than me about that.

Thanks for taking the time answer, it is very much appreciated. I can only assume, even if you don't really like where we're heading here, it does interest you.

[Munchy]

just in case my post was overlooked...
we do not require valid email addys for registration here.
I could register an account with a fake email address pointing to Gypsy,
just as easily as anyone else.
and I've always suspected that it was a simple ruse/purposeful misdirection.
besides I know that email addy was not valid because I sent a message and it bounced right back,
just like my letter to Thomas Clark @ Wandsworth did.
also when the real GN signed up here, his email addy was from icmag, not hushmail.
POM always used hushmail.