The deconstruction of a model: what really happened? – part 3


But what about what created the conditions for all of this to happen? The first model I had for what happened, the only possible one given the information I had, deconstructed itself. The evidence against the psychopathic con artist I had married slowly melted. First was my realization that the first “solid witnesses” were blatantly lying. The first was Eric’s former female partner. I had the opportunity to personally observe her fabrications. Later, investigating them by myself, more and more fabrications emerged. The second were Eric’s former co-worker and boss, who, in no uncertain terms, made false accusations against him. When I put pressure on them to clarify the claims and come forth with them, both disappeared.

I had rights to whatever was the content in the Budget car trunk. I made over 20 contacts with the company, all of which I can prove. They dodged my attempts and finally went radio silent. I lost property worth a couple of thousand dollars. Why? Who?

My communication with the Brazilian banks was more than frustrating: it was criminal. Their last communication with me had a note of sarcasm: either I paid the full debt, or took the “chance” of enforcing the law. They reminded me that the country had one of the highest interest rates in the world and that my debt would just grow. I’m not a risk taker when it comes to money. I paid. I call this extortion. I could never get any information about how certain charges were made. I asked how could Eric have diverted to my credit card purchases I personally saw him making with his card in ordinary stores (none of which had my card on file). The banks never answered my questions. It took months for me to give up and draw my own conclusions, months in which my original model was slowly falsifying itself. As a scientist, I only build models that allow for elegant falsification. One thing I quickly realized is that Eric had no skills or means to divert charges actually made to one credit card to another credit card. That’s highly specialized hacking work. Although Eric is “good with computers”, his skills are non-existent in actual hacking.

In June – great June… – , when my work permit (first part of the petition process) was approved and sent to me, Eric was released from the Alabama jail with an acquittal. It was a false charge. Well, another false charge, then.

The enemies that my siblings prefer to deny I have in Brazil have never forgotten me. Since I arrived here, I’ve been “reminded” of their existence at least twice. The last time, they had a pack of their members falsely report my research curating account at Storify and get it suspended. I wrote a letter to the company explaining that the PSTU and other leftist organizations actively persecuted and harassed me, providing evidence. The account was restored.

A couple of years ago, I was seriously hacked. The IT security expert who fixed my computer told me that it was the work of very good hackers, most probably a group that offers their service to all political organizations in South America. Their ideology is the green dollar.

While I will never, ever know what really happened to my money and why or who made the kick off to destroy my life, it wouldn’t be the first (or, unfortunately, the last) time my political enemies make a digital attack. Far-fetched? Conspiratorial? Perhaps, but not more surreal than any description of what happened.

In any case, I watch closely all my accounts, in every respect, protect my identity in every way and, just as insurance, am also leaving a couple of post-mortem videos and documents. As I write this, they are already scattered through different continents. I made sure not even I know how they will be leaked: I learned my lesson, I’m not using digital media and I know that the best defense is ignorance. But it’s there: thorough as can be. Just so that whoever fucked my life down to nothing knows that although I have no idea what the big deal is, I’m leaving enough information to screw a lot of illegal and horribly immoral things I personally witnessed or heard of. My mouth is shut while I’m alive, but, one, you can’t re-kill the dead and, second, you can’t sue, kidnap, torture or otherwise damage the dead. And the dead can talk, a lot.


Part 4

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top