Member Info for Obsisian

Ask Elric. At least he seems prepared to arrange it without lining his own pockets.

Lemmings are beginning to speculate that this was not a single misstep, but a cascade of failures. More heads will surely roll — many would argue starting with the CFO, the Chair, and the auditors. More troubling still is Elric’s speculation over the true purpose behind the £4.2 million funding secured in June.

He also has an offer to anyone wanting the Zenakine products.

Both will be posted concurrently.

It is highly likely that the FRP flagged this as an administrative burden, NOT addresses when it should have been at the time. It is clearly an historic charge connected to BTS.

It reflects a troubling lack of authority at the executive level. Permitting the notion that something more substantive remains to emerge only reinforces the impression that the board has ceded control. The FRP report was expected to be finalised and released in March; its delay does little to inspire confidence. Attention now turns to Mr Hunt, whose resignation feels increasingly inevitable—and, frankly, overdue. More broadly, the principal shareholders seem to have lost their ability to exert meaningful discipline.

Regrettably, I no longer have the facility to respond directly on Lemming, though I have reviewed your research with considerable interest. Your analysis is impressively incisive—arguably the most lucid interpretation of the science I’ve encountered thus far.

What is particularly compelling is the apparent validation of your observations by the Croda employee within the Lemming comments—always reassuring when theory and insider perspective shake hands rather than glare at one another across the room.

As Alex quite sensibly notes, the strategy of launching a new active ingredient under the umbrella of a well-established, globally trusted brand is not merely logical, but commercially astute. Brand loyalty, once earned, is a formidable ally—something the Croda representative all but confirmed in yesterday’s discussion.

Excellent work, Asqueasulis. Thorough, thoughtful, and rather difficult to fault. Thank you.

Shychap, how much influence do you imagine 36 subscribers really wield? The grand conspiracy you’re hinting at sounds less like sober analysis and more like the sort of thinking one picks up after prolonged exposure to Mr Winnifrith’s rather well-polished narrative of victimhood and martyrdom.

There is also an irony here that’s difficult to ignore. Mr Winnifrith has made a career out of delivering robust—often scathing—opinions about boards of directors and the individuals who sit on them. Yet when a comparatively obscure voice offers an opinion about him, suddenly the tone shifts from “fair comment” to something approaching outrage. One might think that someone so fond of dishing out criticism would possess a slightly thicker skin when it comes back the other way.

Are you paid to support him?

I wasn't wrong. You're back here after the pump on INSG failed.

Shychap, you appear more troubled by my opinion than by the attacks against Mr Winnifrith. Let me be clear: I have no doubt he was targeted, and I neither support nor excuse that sort of reprehensible behaviour.

That said, it is perfectly obvious to anyone not wearing the club tie and monocle that Mr Winnifrith has rather enthusiastically cast himself as the maître d’ of the affair. True to form, he seems intent on leaning heavily into the narrative—his mother’s death included—as part of the wider drama. One can’t help noticing the steady stream of articles since the original incident. As I suggested before, he appears determined to extract every last drop of mileage from it, which, if anything, rather vindicates my earlier observations.

My opinion remains unchanged, irrespective of what ShareSoc might say. In fact, their intervention looks suspiciously like an attempt to catch the slipstream of the publicity—much the same way Mr Winnifrith seems keen to mobilise readers and funnel attention through the mainstream media to bolster his reach.

Let us also not pretend this is the first time Mr Winnifrith has found himself at the centre of such melodrama. If memory serves, there was previously the alleged DDoS attack on the site, along with those ominous “death threats” that were said to be circulating about the place. One might almost feel sorry for the poor soul.

Cry me a river, cry wolf, whatever suits.

PS. I was not paid to write my opinion.

Oh dear, the Winnifrith exposé — surely destined to be remembered as one of the more elaborate exercises in modern financial PR. It has everything: drama, persecution, martyrdom, and a carefully curated sense of victimhood. All, in my opinion, designed to rally the faithful, mobilise the commentariat, and — perhaps most importantly — catch the eye of the mainstream media. After all, nothing drives readership quite like a good siege narrative, and readership, as we know, ultimately converts into pounds, shillings and pence.

Now, most seasoned observers understand that Tom Winnifrith has long had a rather theatrical relationship with the truth, often embellishing and exaggerating where a dull fact might otherwise suffice. That said, I do not for a moment doubt that he has attracted hostility from some deeply unsavoury and morally questionable characters. The darker corners of the market are not exactly populated by choirboys.

However, the threats purported to be existential often read less like credible plots and more like the usual online bravado — the sort of contemptuous bluster that flourishes on the internet but rarely translates into anything resembling real-world action. In other words, unpleasant, certainly, but hardly the stuff of a political thriller.

Still, this is precisely the territory in which Winnifrith tends to thrive: controversy as oxygen, conflict as content, and victimhood as a rather effective marketing strategy.

And, lest we forget, he accused me of being a paid hack while preparing this drama, apparently a willing participant in whatever grand conspiracy happened to be occupying his imagination that week. One assumes I was cast as a minor villain in the drama — though regrettably nobody seems to have informed me where to send the invoice.

Winnifrith is a drama Queen.

AquaeSulis, Alex would concur. He has advanced a broadly similar explanation to account for the fiscal discrepancy you have identified.

My suspicion — and it is no more than that at this stage — is that the review will expose structural and timing complexities which have produced something of a reporting labyrinth, rather than anything more sinister. Commercial licensing arrangements, especially those layered with confidentiality provisions and inter-company reporting obligations, are rarely linear. They are often administratively awkward long before they are improper.

I would very much hope that, should the findings bear this out, SkinBioTherapeutics takes a suitably robust stance against any unfounded allegations of fraud. Markets are volatile enough without imaginative embellishment masquerading as analysis.

In short: complexity is inconvenient; misconduct is something else entirely. One hopes the distinction will shortly be made plain.

https://open.substack.com/pub/psychological4investors/p/skinbiotherapeutics-plc-84b?r=5eb7sb&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

Still living in a Wendy

I scarcely require AI to make you appear foolish; you accomplish that unaided. If constructing a coherent sentence proves beyond your reach, it may be prudent to refrain from attempting to insult someone for whom it is not.

I’ve long observed that those who bristle at grammar, seize upon typos, or mutter that someone 'always talks down' shows little respect when non is received, such as is the case with our beloved Nick2025, are often revealing more about their own insecurities than about anyone else’s intellect. Curiously, you made no effort whatsoever to challenge a single argument presented—merely a torrent of words, as though volume might substitute for value.

Still got a mortgage...on a Wendy house? Think before you post. I was embarrassed for you.

The assertion that “Croda won’t buy—there’s too much stink” is superficially punchy and analytically threadbare.

Croda is not a parish council fretting about reputational gossip; it is a £ multi-billion global ingredients group with a long and well-documented history of acquiring complementary technologies when the strategic logic is sound. Corporate development teams do not recoil from controversy; they discount it.

The notion that transient noise around a counterparty permanently contaminates an asset betrays a misunderstanding of how strategic buyers operate. Assets are valued on future cash flows, intellectual property defensibility, margin profile and strategic fit—not on bulletin-board indignation.

Now consider the product comparison implicitly at play. Matrixyl, widely recognised in cosmetic science circles as a peptide-based anti-ageing active, underpins roughly sixty formulations. It enjoys commercial success, certainly, but it is neither novel in sustainability positioning nor underpinned by the sort of expansive clinical programme that commands premium differentiation.

Zenakine, by contrast, is positioned on substantive science, clinical validation, ethical sourcing and sustainability credentials. It is reportedly incorporated into hundreds of formulations—an order of magnitude broader footprint. If one overlays that with Croda’s stated ambition to enhance margins and pivot toward greener, higher-value actives, the strategic alignment becomes rather more compelling than critics concede.

Higher margin. Lower cost of production. Greater formulation breadth. Sustainability tailwinds. Clinical substantiation.

Which of those attributes typically deters an acquisitive specialty ingredients group?

As for the insinuation that any acquisition would merely facilitate “golden goodbyes” for embattled directors, that is cynicism masquerading as analysis. Strategic acquirers structure deals to secure technology, talent and continuity where required. If management credibility has been impaired, buyers adjust consideration, impose earn-outs or change leadership. They do not abandon value creation because governance turbulence once made headlines.

In fact, distressed optics often strengthen a buyer’s negotiating leverage. Reputational “stink” depresses valuation multiples; it does not render patents radioactive.

The deeper flaw in the statement is psychological. It assumes corporates think like retail investors—emotionally, reputationally, reactively. They do not. They think probabilistically and economically.

To dismiss the possibility of acquisition on the basis of noise is not hard-headed scepticism. It is analytical laziness.

One need not be starry-eyed to recognise that strategic fit, margin accretion and sustainability alignment matter more in a boardroom than message-board melodrama.

I am not a paid hack. Nor am I a serial liar, you are.

https://open.substack.com/pub/psychological4investors/p/dirty-little-scoundrel?r=5eb7sb&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

I'm just getting started.

Buried treasure, what was my opening line?

The time for suspension has come and gone.

Under the AIM Rules, suspension is typically considered when:

There is uncertainty about the company’s financial position.

There is material information that cannot be disclosed but is price-sensitive.

There is disorderly trading due to an information vacuum.

The company cannot ensure a properly informed market.

A sharp share price fall, even a violent one, does not automatically justify suspension. Markets are permitted to react — sometimes brutally — to disclosed information.

If renewal is to be credible, it cannot be selective.

Mr Hunt and Vigo must now fall within the scope of scrutiny. Reform that addresses only the most visible figure risks appearing cosmetic rather than structural. One cannot claim to restore confidence by removing a single presence from the dining table whilst ignoring what may be embedded within the walls.

Governance failures, if such they are, are rarely solitary. They are systemic — sustained by proximity, tolerance, and habit. To recalibrate trust, the review must be comprehensive, not symbolic.

Confidence returns not through gesture, but through thoroughness.

We needed change. But let's see who is appointed.

It has been suggested that Mr Winnifrith may have possessed privileged—or at least unpublicised—information regarding Mr Ashman. I may not have the chronology entirely correct; however, the sequence of events invites scrutiny. If he did, in fact, hold material concerns—colloquially described as “dirt”—one might reasonably ask whether this formed the true impetus behind his decision to sell.

More pointedly, did he elect to divest while withholding those details from his readership from within SkinBio, thereby insulating himself from the subsequent decline whilst presenting the move as merely another instalment of his—how shall we put it—occasionally mercurial advisory record? As one investor on LSE has already observed, the consistency of that record has not been beyond question.

If such a scenario were borne out, it would raise uncomfortable questions about transparency and fiduciary candour. Whether this represents a new nadir for Mr Winnifrith’s integrity is, of course, a matter for individual judgement—but the optics, at the very least, are not flattering.