Yes Virginia,
it's like this: in all probability there's this fellow that doesn't actually exist. Well not in the normal sense of the word anyways. I mean there's a more than extensive resume of sorts, masses of e-mail issuing forth under a name and, if you're fool enough or rich enough one can even call the creature. Now in Texas of all places. But try as even the massed illuminati of the Internet might, they can't quite define a person behind all that. No identifiable existance, no picture, no sense. See it's something that doesn't quite exist in the normal sense of the word.
Into the broken glass.
An hour's worth of long distance telephone talk to Kansas City, Kansas, from Toronto, Ontario, smack dab in the middle of a regular business day some time in 1996, adds up to about thirty-five Canadian dollars in charges. Which was when and for how long I called. Called Jeff Williams. And talked. Talked with Jeff Williams.
During that hour long talk I thought a lot of ground was being covered. Jeff's company, the multi-billion US dollar, privately held INEG Corporation, was prepared to consider backing my WTV.NET project. With up to two million dollars should our goals coincide with INEG's in terms of New Domain Names and coverage of these discussions. Since my position then was very publically and clearly in opposition to various things Jeff also opposed this was a shoe in. We were heading for the elusive "FUNDING" every junior capitalist wannabe dreams of! One little thing though....
Mr. Jeff "INEG" Williams, in this hour, slipped a few times. Certain logical inconsistancies revealed themselves which set little alarms going off in my cranium. The slow sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, I was being somehow bamboozled ricocheted in that same gourd. That 'I'm being bamboozled!' feeling infiltrated at last a consciousness not quite prepared for what it's ears were hearing. A train of subtle misleadings and lies wrapping up one's imagination in possibilities while every other organ in one's being shouts: "No! It's not true! Stop!"
Oh. I forgot to mention the very first odd thing that happened in that memorable call. An elderly voice answered the phone. And when I asked for Jeff Williams he sighed a mighty sigh. And called out what in retrospect was a 'Here it goes again' voice of exasperation "Jeffery! Telephone". Then a breathless Jeff Williams answers. First in a sort of embarrassed/apologetic tone. Then settling into the sort of muggy, chestnut sort of high tech familiarity sort of talk one might expect of eccentric billionaires. Spiced with the White House this and Bill (Gates/Clinton) or Steve (Jobs) that. About knowing everyone at the top and moving behind the scenes to effect all sorts of change and lobbying all over the globe.
Then came talk about the WTV Non-Disclosure Agreement. Which was necessary before I sent the full WTV business proposal. I mean I was and still am, occasisionally, stupid. But not that stupid. I suggested that I fax down a copy and Jeff could UPS overnight the signed document back. Jeff told me he didn't have a fax machine and/or that it was broken. Hmmmm. Then I suggested he print out a version I then e-mailed the fellow along with some mildly revealing preliminary documents. Good idea. However. Jeff said he didn't have a FedEx outlet nearby and would I accept normal, postal return mail. Hmmmm. Again. Okay. It would take time. But okay. I wasn't in no hurry. Duh.
Needless to say, nothing arrived. In the weeks ahead I would periodically inquire with Jeff as to what had happened to the letter. Whether he had decided to FedEx it or snail mail it. Not yet. Excuses, excuses. Big secret meeting after big top secret meeting. Jeff-jetting all over the world. Problems with the Williams virtual office. Yada, yada and so on and so forth. Like hooey.
My rather differantly quixotic life at the time was moving rather quickly in rather differant, more visceral ways. From one pitch the WTV plan meeting and height, to another and the depths. Excitment, disappointment, crisis, wild hopes, bogus dreams, fantastic team, betrayals and even the occaisional solid friendship formed amidst all the crazy cyber tumult. And, in a perverse sort of developing game, I would occaisionally drop the odd e-mail to old Jeffer. Out of the same wierd sense of curiousity and humour that motivates this article I guess.
Jeff would quickly reply in the same sort of assuring, evasive tone. Until I started saying that from this point on I could not discuss anything unless Jeff sent me a certified check or direct deposited a sum in my account. US$200, US$600, US$1,000, etc - I kept increasing the amount with each exchange! For talks to continue with "INEG" money, this time, would have to talk. And, if not, the Jeff bullshit would have to walk. With all the other bullshitters I was pitching WTV to at the time. All the big shot stock broker assholes, Investment "consultant" sleaze machines, business creeps and assorted other sub-species of the invertebrates and ungulates that lurk around the scum bottum and everywhere else, it appears, on the new IPO e-commerce Internet.
Then Jeff started threatening me with disclosure of what we have been discussing. Reporting my e-mail as illegal solicitation of funds(!). At that point I think I told the good fellow to kindly fock off, that he was a phoney and a fake and a liar and that he should seek counselling if this all wasn't some huge scam. To which the lad would reply that I should do my homework. That he wouldn't do my homework for me. And I would search out the nothing that was there. And then sometimes Jeff would reply hopefully/arrogantly, as if I were some temporarily misbehaving cheda and he were the all patient master. And I would say, again, if he ponyed up some money I would believe him. That a few grand to a billionaire was equivalent to a few bucks to a poor shmuck. And the threats would commence. But no dough, no go. It was that simple.
On the dog no-one knows you're a net. Let's fast forward to current calender year 1999. In the ensuing Jeff Williams amassed quite a few other conquests. Suckers like me who had sucumbed to his particularly appealing line of el supremo, grade A pure, unadulterated, all-American whacko bullshit. Including the US Government, both the staid and dorky LA Times and Chris Oates ace reporter of the allegedly hyper-connected WiReD on-line magazine (Hahaha!). Who all published straight INEG stories, Mr. Oakes/WiReD doing this on blessed March 5th of this millenial year 1999! So Chris "WiReD Jounralist of the Year - NOT" Oakes joins countless other internet personages, personalities, hipsters and hypsters in the Gulible Department. So in me being fooled I am in some good company, chums. Very good company.
Jeff, by now has quite a few mild but never-the-less real cyber staulkers pursuing the truth of his falsehoods. Of which I may, temporarily, be classified as one I guess. Except for the explainations and face saving I'll offer later on. The others offer: A FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) document about himself written by Darrell Greenwood. Also Alex Kamantauskas' documenting of all the various claims Jeff has made. To which he can probably add a few from this article! And your basic anti-Jeff WWW site maintained by William X. Walsh and dedicated to debunking the Jeffster in his tracks. Also an excellent non-staulker article written by Matthias Fichtner (in German) at:
