Back in 2023, I wrote a Valentine’s Day Special titled, “The Gospels of a Gentleman”, for all my fellow gentlemen, similar to how Beyonce wrote a song for all her single ladies. My article, however, was written to assist my fellow gentlemen on how to best position themselves to experience success on the “international day of luvvin”, also known as Valentine’s Day. Perhaps it was the perfect combination to help out all of Beyonce’s single ladies—by playing Cupid matchmaker.
On the other hand, some may wonder, “Why should we listen to Alek when we have street-certified “Gs” in the manosphere?” To such thinkers, I would respond, “How many of those street-certified ‘Gs’ can say that they were ‘your favourite gangster’s favourite gangster (digital)?’ That mid-to-high level criminals would boil when their gentleman-ly presence would arrive at the gentlemen-est of all places: the Gentlemen’s Club? That they pulled up on ‘dishonourable people’ on some Equalizer (2014,2018,2023) swag?” (The answer, if it is not obvious, is none of them.)
So, here is a “Gentleman’s Origin Story” that would eventually make way for the “Gospels of a Gentleman”, a story with a hazy beginning and as non-linear as it gets.
“Are the stories about you true?” – Messenger boy (Troy, 2004)
People have conferred many nicknames upon me over the years, but the best stem from my time spent in my natural habitat – the Gentlemen’s Club, like “Mr. Martini Ya Heard” and “Denzel”. These are just a few of the many nicknames, no different from my many labels from over the years, like “high school hacker”, “university dropout”, and “international humanitarian”.
Even though the more people learn about me the more questions they begin to have, everything can be explained in the lay-est of terms. Understanding the first (Mr. Martini Ya Heard) is simple, an affinity for martinis, if a person understands New York slang (Ya Heard). The second (Denzel) can be best understood through the lens of the Equalizer film franchise, how I move fluidly in my natural habitat.
For anyone ignorant enough to ask the stupid question of, “Why ‘Denzel’ and not ‘Jerome’?” I would respond by labelling that question-asker as a ‘racist’, then explaining how I had a different physical build. But before anyone can understand the nicknames in totality, it requires retracing my footprints, before I first walked through the gates of the Gentlemen’s Club—back to my teenage hacking days.
As a child, I started out like Anakin, until I discovered the power of the computer (my version of The Force) – it was my destiny. For Anakin, that meant eventually joining the dark side. For me, that meant entering the dark web. However, the plot twist in my story is that I used my newfound powers to go after jedi (police) and sith (criminals) – without either’s knowledge (albeit the jedi found out a few years after). All of it would lead me to the realization that there were times where there was little distinction between the two (My Crazy Life – The Greatest Hacks are Seldom Told documented some of those details).
By the time I was set to graduate from high school, I knew things about the jedi and the sith that would enrage Canadians of all political stripes if they became aware of how reckless high-level police investigations could get.
As it related to the sith, I was able to discover the exact times that hard drugs were scheduled to get trafficked between provinces, and even into Ottawa. Hard drugs were also being transported by air through private airports (which had abysmal security), between British Columbia, Alberta, Ontario, and Quebec. Hard drugs were also being transported from Quebec into Ontario, through long-distance truckers, who had legitimate truck delivery routes.
Confidential informants were abusing their relationship with the police, everything from getting out of trouble for minor violations to abusing women and minors, and on some occasions, even blackmailing officers into certain actions and outcomes. But that may be the price to pay when it comes to high level narco-related investigations, like those related to narco-trafficking, often involved with terrorism financing and more.
Practically everything that the jedi knew about the sith, I knew as well, but I managed to learn even more about the sith, collecting information beyond what the jedi knew about the international sith order. So, equipped with the most intimate details of high-level policing investigations and organized criminal transnational operations, I decided it was time to pay a visit to Canada’s most feared criminal organization, the outlaw biker group known as the Hells Angels.
The main mission becomes an afterthought when an unforeseen quest emerges
Who the hell would even consider connecting with organized criminals for the sole purpose of lecturing them about their criminal activities, and then showing up to the front door of establishments that were linked with organized criminal activities? Someone who has gained an intimate understanding of the psychosocial profiles of such organized criminals, whose tattoos are often an attempt to cover for not being comfortable in their own skin, and someone who has serious leverage over them (leverage is a MFer). So, a skinny-fat high school Alek, armed with a man purse, pulled up to Ottawa-Gatineau’s best Gentlemen’s Club, one renowned for being a playground for “Hells Angels” – without his Orthodox cross and no holy water.
From the moment I stepped out of my car, I knew who many of the bikers were, as well as their psychosocial profiles. Strutting through the gates of Ottawa-Gatineau’s best Gentlemen’s Club, it was about to go down, until that version of Alek froze like a deer. Blinded by headlights, headlights everywhere. “Crash! Bang! Whack!”. Thankfully, it only took me a few seconds to regain my wits, all thanks to the countless hours I had spent in similar clubs in GTA Vice City (2002) and GTA San Andreas (2004). Who could have imagined that the Grand Theft Auto video game franchise would end up saving the day? Not me.
What started out as the main mission, to connect with top Hells Angels’ leadership and to let them know that I knew everything about them, from their personal information to their organization’s criminal activities, became an afterthought. It was not my fault, nor did I chicken-out. Instead, blame it on all the headlights and the hypnotizing effect they had on that version of Alek. Because all my attention and desires went towards appreciating those exotic sports cars.
What ended up transpiring saw that version of Alek, armed with a man purse, become every gals’ favourite guy (even more so than their “protection boyfriends”). All the attention I began to receive also gave rise to a never-before-seen level of vitriolic jealousy – mid-to-high level criminals were incapable of paying to receive the kind of affection I was receiving. Simply put, those scumbags lacked the intellectual capacity to realize that if emulating what they were seeing in rap music videos was not working, by trying to look mean and tough and referring to gals by using explicative language, then maybe it was time to try something new.
Naturally, these criminals attempted to come around and try to start up conversations with me, by saying things like, “I see you player!”, “Whatever you on, put me on too, homie!”, “Sick bag, what’s in it, my G?”. Then there were questions like, “What kind of game you be spitting?” and “How do you holla at them to get them to be cool with you like that?”. Being the non-serious person that I was, especially when I lack respect for people, I would respond with suggestions like telling them that they needed to watch the Boss’n Up (2005), featuring Snoop Dogg.
Somehow my responses seemed to piss those criminals off. Their comments changed, from “respect” to comments like, “Look at that trick!” and “It’s Big Simpin”. Those criminals were individuals who were in their 20s and 30s emulating everything that they were seeing in rap music videos, being obsessed with looking tough and disrespecting gals by calling them explicative terms, obsessed with impressing other “Gs”. What they needed was not any advice from me, what they needed were direction to a Chippendales.
Probably the only reason I never got attacked by those criminals was because I would make specific comments about specific criminal activities that had them thinking I was a “NARC” or “undercover” (I wasn’t, I just hacked). On the other hand, some law-abiding citizens began to think that I was some sort of “Alejandro Sosa” (Scarface, 1983). But the only thing that mattered to me was what my gal pals and their female friends (aka Ottawa-Gatineau’s version of The Bad Girls Club, (2006-2017)) thought about me. And word had spread about a straight high schooler armer with a man purse who was an expert on ladies lingerie (Working as a Highschooler at Sears’ Ladies’ Lingerie Department), who would say things like how real men went to spas, and who could walk into a women’s store without it affecting his (healthy) masculinity. Truly a five-star OG (for whom the “OG” acronym stood for “original gentleman”).
Truthfully speaking, there was no secret recipe to interacting with my gal pals, I just happened to have what may possibly have been the greatest 1- to 2-minute opening monologue, one that makes the best Saturday Night Live openings look like amateur hour. It may have helped that I was fluent in a few languages: transitioning from simple English to Shakespearean English and even Spanish, capable of emulating Lil Wayne’s flow and moving like those Diplomats (the Dipset kind). Oh, and I may have bragged about “knowing” some stuff about some stuff.
Perhaps the moral of this story should be that exotic sport cars are scary because of the power of their engines. Still, spending enough time on the racetrack, one can become a Michael Schumacher or a Lewis Hamilton. Or, a Nick Lauda (1949-2019) or a Dale Earnhardt (1951-2001), for those who prefer NASCAR to Formula 1. So, Gentlemen, start your engines!
WorldStarHipHop saved my life
As it relates to driving, there may have been an instance where I had managed to intercept communications about how hard drugs were scheduled to arrive at a Hells Angels clubhouse on the outskirts of Ottawa (Carlsbad Springs). So, I hopped into my mom’s Nissan Sentra and drove to the Carlsbad Springs clubhouse, driving up and down the street that it was located on. “How many times”, you may ask? Well, enough for a few people from the Clubhouse to step outside and one of them to wave me over to talk to me. It was a brief conversation – quite funny.
Based on my snooping around, I thought it would be a good idea to go work at specific resorts in Mazatlán, Mexico. Even crazier, I literally taught myself to speak Spanish at an A2/B1 level, prioritizing it over my nursing studies, so that I could lecture the cartels about their criminal activities. Had I ended up following through and moving to Mazatlán, Mexico, there could have been the potential for a “Valentine’s Day Special – Don Juan/Rico Suave Edition”. Albeit I was not intending to go to Mexico in hopes of finding a mamacita, but because of what I managed to learn about transnational criminal operations. That was until I watched one WorldStarHipHop video, seeing the fallout from some tourists who managed to run afoul with locals who were involved with the cartel. So, I scratched that idea.
Realistically, if the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) or Federal Bureau of Investigations (FBI) had offered a higher payout for their “Most Wanted” fugitives, as well as a multiplier incentive for catching more than one, I believe I could have netted them the Holy Trinity of narco-traffickers from the 2000s: El Chapo, El Mencho, El Mayo. The payout would have needed to be in excess of a 100-million dollars, and if they managed to throw in a pair of President George H.W. Bush’s aviator-styled eyeglasses, then I would have been over the top in my delivery of those fugitives. Serving up the three on a Tiffany & Co. silver platter, hog-tied (kinky), with an apple in each mouth.
What I find myself hypothesizing about most has to do with possibilities and probabilities. Like the possibility of transitioning from “your favourite gangster’s favourite gangster (digital)” to “your favourite Canadian’s favourite Canadian”, in the ranks of Thomas Clement Douglas (1904-1986) and Pierre Elliot Trudeau (1919-2000). Like the probability of bringing security and safety, peace and prosperity, a delivering a crippling blow against narco-terrorism and terrorism financing, possibly becoming Canada’s single-greatest contribution to USMCA (then NAFTA). Seeing how President Donald J. Trump is a New York-styled gentleman, doing the U.S. such a “yuuuge” favor, would Canada be in the position it is today with U.S. tariffs that are likely to decimate our economy? Absolutely not!
Seriously, are the stories about you true?
After meeting Snoop Dogg (A “Midnight Session” With Tha Doggfather), this past summer and lighting up a Snoop-rolled blunt for the first time in my life, one of the last things Snoop told me was that if we had gone to high school together that we would have been best homies. And while my response was that he was “hell yeah”, I also knew that we would have gotten expelled, or worse. Because Snoop’s green ways combined with my cyber ways would have made for a wild recipe.
Let us get back to the fact that the greatest hacks are seldom told, and the reality that Canadians are the most eccentric, ballsiest, and greatest hackers to ever walk the digital world. It will never be easy to believe that an Ottawa high school hacker would consider targeting police, organized criminal groups, and transnational crime syndicates. As hard as that scenario may be to fathom, what if I said that it was an Ottawa high school hacker who was the first to discover the issue of foreign interference (FI) in Canada, some 16 years ago before it was reported by an NGO?
As always, do not take my word for it, ask Canada’s public safety and policing stakeholders, whether the issue of FI was first uncovered in the Fall of 2008, by a then-seventeen-year-old Hillcrest High School student who also happened to be armed with a man purse. Because that story, and a few others, are ones that I need to save for the Netflix special!
