Note: this passage is taken from a longer work I am in the process of composing, on the meta-significance of #Pizzagate. See an earlier-published excerpt of this work here.
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| James Alefantis, owner of Comet Ping-Pong Pizza in Washington D.C. |
by Andy Nowicki
Consider this summary of one #Pizzagate
researcher’s alleged correspondence with James Alefantis. This communication has
entered the public record, as this researcher wound up filing a police report concerning what he believes to be terroristic threats against himself and
members of his family.
This
researcher in question, a young man from Houston named Ryan O’Neal, first
contacted Alefantis in January, asking if he would consent to an online interview. At
first, Alefantis wrote back to express disinterest in the idea, proclaiming
that there was “like a zero percent chance this (the interview) will happen.”
However, once O’Neal posted a Youtube video in which he claimed to discover
the location of what one of the notorious Jimmy Comet Instagram pictures titled
a “kill room,” Alefantis suddenly appeared to change his tune. (A written account of O'Neal's testimony can be found here; the video testimony is posted below.)
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| Ryan O'Neal, #pizzagate researcher allegedly threatened by Alefantis |
“Ok
man, you win,” he wrote to O’Neal the day after the video was uploaded, prompting O’Neal to think that
Alefantis had decided to capitulate and grant the interview he had previously rejected. Then, after asking a series of seemingly irrelevant questions pertaining to
O’Neal’s online identity, Alefantis again switched course, becoming openly
confrontational. After feigning confusion about who O’Neal was (with the clear
purpose of catching his interlocutor off guard), the Comet Ping Pong Owner then
dropped a bomb:
Alefantis: He is in trouble.
O’Neal: Who?
Alefantis: YOU.
The abrupt switch from third- to second-person (“he” to the
all-caps “YOU.”) displays an exquisitely-executed instance of psychological
manipulation. In a mere moment, things go from speculative to immediate, from impersonal
to personal, from vaguely ominous to directly threatening. The conveyed message
can’t be any clearer: O’Neal is “in trouble,” and the source of this
encroaching danger is none but Alefantis himself.
But why? What has O’Neal done that warrants the issuance of such a warning? It is at this juncture, the moment
when Alefantis turns “weird and aggressive” according to O’Neal, that Alefantis
insists that O’Neal call him on his cell phone, in order to find out the
details concerning the nature of the invisible noose tightening around his
neck. Frightened as he is, O’Neal finds his fear pulling him in different
directions: “I was really scared to call this guy. He already has my Facebook.
He knows where I live. Now he’s going to have my phone number. So I’m really
scared.”
Still, Alefantis knows how to provide further incentive.
After giving his phone number, He writes, “Call me now. You have ten seconds.
10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Last chance.”
This typed-out countdown may strike us as comical, even
ridiculous. After all, what will happen if O’Neal refuses to comply? “Last
chance” to prevent… what, exactly? The threat clearly has no true “teeth” to
it. But we should note that it nevertheless had its intended effect; the
terrified O’Neal promptly calls Alefantis, just as the latter had commanded. And once he called, according to O’Neal, Alefantis truly let loose with harsh
invective and very specific declarations of intention to commit homicidal violence.
“He basically said he was going to kill me, kill my mom,
kill my girlfriend, and kill my son,” O’Neal reported later, his voice shaking
slightly. “He’s going to sue me, he’s going to send me to prison… he told me I
had to delete my video or I would die, my son would die, and then he would sue
me.. sue my dead body!” (Bolded here for emphasis.)
O’Neal responds to this torrent of repetitive and at times
barely-sensical abuse (“he would sue… my dead body”???) with incredulity; it all
seems to have come out of nowhere… Alefantis’s harsh words have an immediate
impact; instantly O’Neal feels moved to apologize for his ostensible misdoing
and to plead with the supposedly wronged man for mercy.
Once more, it may be
easy for the reader to scorn O’Neal for knuckling under so rapidly in the face
of clearly outrageous behavior. And it may be that O’Neal’s apparent easygoing
persona—he comes across as a mild-mannered, slightly daft country-boy-- isn’t
especially geared to withstand those who approach him with severity. At the
same time, however, we should also take care not to judge him too harshly,
considering that Alefantis is likely, as I am attempting to argue, quite adept
at modulating his tone to suit his audience, as befits the “middle-management”
type of man who rules his seeming betters though blackmail, manipulation, and
triangulation.
In any case, thoroughly mortified as he is by this sudden and furious spasm of terroristic invective, O’Neal meekly pledges to do the bidding of the
man who had just announced he would murder everyone he loved as well as
himself, before pressing suit against his corpse. But the onslaught isn't over yet.
While O’Neal is still reeling
from the shock of this upsetting phone call, Alefantis begins to text him
again, instructing O’Neal to delete the offending video in a manner that would
cause “no waves.”
At this point, O’Neal makes a feeble attempt to recover his
wits and his dignity, texting back, “I am a super reasonable guy. You don’t
have to scare me like that.”
Alefantis responds by
sending a picture of O’Neal and his mother, presumably taken from some social
media site. The chilling unspoken message is clear, in context: I know what your mom looks like. I am one of
the most powerful people in Washington, D.C, and with the connections at my
disposal, I can find out where she lives. I could do serious harm to her if I
wanted to. However, the text message accompanying the implicitly
threatening photo is incongruously benign: “Thanks. Feel ok?”
When O’Neal responds, “Not really. (You) just threatened to
kill everyone,” Alefantis then comfortingly answers, “No need for all that.” Soon afterwards, he posts a picture of
O’Neal’s girlfriend, with the accompanying comment, “Cute.” (Again, the subtext: It would sure be a shame if anything happened to her...) He asks O’Neal to
call him again, and promises to be “nice” this time.
Showing himself to be
fully aware of the implications of these photos, O’Neal pointedly asks, “Is
this you being nice?” But Alefantis has now again morphed into another persona,
that of—incredibly enough-- a sympathetic adviser. He assures O’Neal that
things “might be ok,” and advises him to “Let me know when you have calmed a
bit.”
They talk again, and O’Neal reports that Alefantis is indeed
“nicer” this time, but nevertheless assures him that his death is certain if he
doesn’t remove the video. Afterwards, O’Neal texts Alefantis that he has
removed the video, broadcasting his fealty by adding, “You win by a landslide.”
Alefantis answers, “So go to sleep. Thank you for that. It’s appreciated.”
*************
There are many useful details to note about this exchange,
but to me the most interesting aspect is what may be called the calculated mercurialism of Alefantis’s
demeanor over the course of the interaction. He bounces from a conspicuous
display of disinterest (“about a zero percent chance that’s going to happen”)
to seeming capitulation (“OK man, you win”), to angry and violent threats, to
soothing and placating ministrations, even to the point of apparently
telegraphing graciousness after
threatening mass murder (“Thank you for that. It’s appreciated.”), all the while
still retaining a disconcerting undertone of menace (“Things might be ok,” leaving a whisper of the
unspoken corollary, “but they also might NOT, in which case all bets are off..”)
This propensity to be a whirling dervish of moods almost seems to indicate an
underlying psychosis, yet it also feels practiced,
like an actor on a stage, or more accurately a stand-up performer, since
he’s shooting from the hip rather than working from a script, but is still clearly
acting, with an overarching goal in
mind with regard to steering his “audience,” that is, his mark, towards a particular response.
The effect he wishes to achieve isn’t merely to scare his
interlocutor beyond measure—he has greater ambition than that. He doesn’t just wish
to intimidate and humiliate his mark; he also aims, perversely enough, to win
his mark’s gratitude. He at once plays both
“bad cop” and “good cop”—he lets loose with violent threats, then cheerily
dismisses the concerns expressed by the one whose life he’d threatened mere
minutes before.
It isn’t enough to get O’Neal (the “mark” in this case) to do his
bidding (i.e., to take the offending video down), but also, to convince him that, in doing so, he has committed a noble deed for a good and just cause,
that due to his obedience his sins have been forgiven, and that he may now go in peace, albeit with
a slight sense of dread that the now-merciful judge may in the near future once
more wax revengeful and unleash unspeakable carnage upon him and everyone he
loves.
Connected content:
#Pizzagate and the Lugenpresse
#Pizzagate and the Lugenpresse
#Pizzagate and Popular Culture
Andy Nowicki, assistant editor of Alternative Right, is the author of eight books, including Lost Violent Souls, Heart Killer and The Columbine Pilgrim. Visit his Soundcloud page.
Andy Nowicki, assistant editor of Alternative Right, is the author of eight books, including Lost Violent Souls, Heart Killer and The Columbine Pilgrim. Visit his Soundcloud page.
