I think (clearly I don’t really know) that you can exchange fractions of a coin. So the value of a whole coin should just keep going up as people trade smaller and smaller fractions of a coin.
The cloud is just a different landlord, it’s the same landfill.
and search for Tattoo.
yeallowbeard, Waterworld, Crusoe (TV),
And there’s a puzzle in The Curse of Monkey Island
That would certainly explain his “oh well” attitude.
In the docuseries “This Great Beast that is the Global Economy,” the seventh episode highlights a UK midlands bitcoin trader who lost his access code from a hardware failure. The drive the code was stored on was somehow mistakenly thrown out during a drive swap, and sent to the dump, where the owner cannot get permission to dig for it. It was also worth about $60M.
West World
Wasn’t that one under their scalp?
A minor detail. 
It is entirely possible that the fuz found out he had a bitcoin wallet and asked him for the key. He then concocted the tackle box story so they would not hold him in contempt in hopes to get at the money later.
Why people don’t cash out of this shizz is completely beyond me.
Plus, data (e.g. a record of passwords) cannot really be said to exist unless it exists in two separate and independent places. See Schofield’s second law of computing.
Schofield’s 3 laws of computing:
Schofield’s First Law: never put data into a program unless you can see exactly how to get it out.
Schofield’s Second Law: data doesn’t really exist unless you have at least two copies of it.
Schofield’s Third Law: the easier it is for you to access your data, the easier it is for someone else to access your data.*
sigh, I was an “early adopter” and actually mined a whopping 6 bitcoins
but I was far too clever and used a nonsensical sentence as a password that I now cannot remember for the life of me years later
I stopped looking at the value years ago, don’t tell me 
I would have given it to my Mom. She hangs onto everything.
Now I’m trying to think of all this times THIS Clifton Collins has played a drug dealer:
“…workers at the dump told the Irish police force, the gardaí, they
remembered seeing discarded fishing gear.”
Bribes at €100 per worker for 15 workers…€1500.
“Collins, 49, has apparently told the gardaí he has come to terms with the
loss…”
Outright lie…€0.
“Authorities hope they may some day access them.”
Priceless.
[Screw all that other stuff…Profit - $60,000,000]
And now that they know what it’s worth, remember exactly where they saw the fishing gear, off to China to be destroyed, definitely not sitting there in the corner behind Sean’s desk, nowhere near those brochures about Panama or the Caymans, no, sir.
Two is one, and one is none.
Um, even imagining getting ink on the bottom of my foot caused a psychosomatic weird jagged tickle / nerve shriek to wrack my right leg in an involuntary spasm of hell no. Just the idea of that electric tattoo gun bzzZZZzzZZZzz anywhere near the soles of my feet is enough to get my shit all twitchy and ready to reflexively kick a motherfucker in the face. On the one hand, thanks for helping me discover a sensation I didn’t know existed. On the other hand, this is knowledge I didn’t in any way need so my gratitude is necessarily somewhat limited.
Histiaeus reportedly tattooed a call to rebellion on the head of a slave in 499BC.
