Grand Scheme (Part II)
How I Spent Three Years Chasing $1,000
If you missed Part I, then read it here.
Immediately after the 2020 General Election, I co-led a team on Discord to uncover thousands of people registered at P.O. Boxes and other locations. It was a chaotic time and various versions of our unfinished work leaked out - unfortunately not all of them completed or current, let alone fully checked - which ended up in the hands of people looking to make a name for themselves who in turn handed it up the chain.
Although our team corrected the work and submitted the finds to the proper authorities - some still remain open with case numbers, detectives, affidavits, and everything else according to the Georgia Secretary of State’s office - it was out there warts and all for the news media to cherry-pick as it always does.
Even though it was exhausting, I did this all while holding down a remote job.
That all said, I look back fondly on the camaraderie that we formed as a team working towards a purpose and a goal, even when we worked long hours into the night. We also made some long lasting work relationships and friendships. While I wanted us to be able to continue, everything good must eventually come to an end. We tried spinning up some other groups and businesses afterward but it wasn’t the same as we were trying to recapture a moment in time that will never return.
Wondering what to do next, something told me that I had to go see Trump speak in Washington D.C. when he rallied for people to see him on January 6th. That same something told me that if I did not go, then I would regret not going for the rest of my life. Maybe it was the voice of God. Maybe it was early signs of undetected onset schizophrenia. Either way, I traveled to Washington D.C. for the first time in my life.
This was going to be awesome!
The very next day, I lost my job.
Two people from that Discord group and I had just finished a lunch with Matt Braynard. He had thanked us, paid the bill, and left the restaurant. I then noticed several notifications on my phone indicating that I was locked out of my work account. I also saw a missed call from my job and got a voicemail from the owner asking me to call back immediately.
When I returned the call, the owner informed me that I was fired. This was not even five days after I had received an end of year bonus for my strong performance.
When I asked why and after some prying, he told me that it was due to an email sent to a client. I don’t remember what I had supposedly written, I think I had to clarify something and in frustration just said let’s move on or something. I know I can be blunt, and not everyone likes that, but you’d think an editor would want to get to the point. Then again, this editor was a white middle-aged woman editor with pronouns in her bio who thought I probably committed a micro-aggression just by existing.
Never mind the fact that company managers made jokes about killing Trump supporters on morning calls or derogatory statements about conservatives. Plus, they knew that I was in D.C. to see Trump. It was only a matter of time.
At first, I felt surprised and a little upset.
Then I felt liberated.
I notified Matt immediately that I was available if he needed me.
Fuck it, I was in D.C. and I would get to see and hear President Trump speak!
Then January 6th happened. The events of that day was not on my bucket list.
There’s already been so much written and spoken about that day that there’s not really much more that I can add to it. What stuck with me from that day was not the riots or any of the things that the news later made it about, but rather that it was extremely cold and windy, and I went home feeling incredibly disappointed that no new revelations came out about the election results.
I wondered what the point of calling people to D.C. had been, and why I had the feeling that I needed to go. I left disappointed and confused, maybe I was wrong, but the past few days had been difficult on a personal and political level.
The next day I remembered going to the Lincoln Memorial and guards swarmed the spot when someone displayed the Gasden flag. This was not the America in which I remembered having grown up in, and it was hostile and unwelcoming. Hell, the shit-ridden streets of Los Angeles was friendlier to conservatives than Washington D.C.
We went home a few days later and reality set back in.
I was unemployed and needed to get an income. I reached out to the guys who met up with me in D.C. and a few from the Discord group. We had found something in our research: a Tennessee law that pays $1,000 for voter fraud tips that result in conviction.
Look out boys, we’re going to be rich!
PART III To Come