Once upon a time, there was a man who was suddenly hit by hundreds of allegations. Bad allegations. Ugly allegations. Allegations of an impossible range of sexual assault, weird sex crimes, massive fraud — no, not fraud, something more sorcerous and sinister: the ability to take tens of thousands of dollars and (impossibly) make them disappear.
I am Jeff Mach. I was hit by those allegation in January, 2018. And they are not true.
For literal years, I’ve tried to find a way they could BE true, because my first instinct, before we had a modern-day understanding of mobs, was to figure what we all figure — “How could so many people be lying?” We now know much better: “How could anyone, faced with everyone around them screaming, terrified, whipped into a frenzy, and attacking anyone who didn’t, themselves, attack — not attack?” It’s hard to remember a brief encounter in a room full of people ten years ago, or a date fifteen years ago; and easy enough to remember it based on what everyone else around you is saying. That’s human nature. But if we take stories like that and try to claim that they’re now the sudden discovery of horrible allegations, we do no favors to justice, truth, or the lives of happiness of anyone, accuser or accused.
I have tested myself in every way now, looked at every email and conversation. I spent years waiting patiently, for some kind of investigation of any kind, some kind of proof, some kind of charge, some kind of approach from anyone who said I hurt them. But (with a single, notable exception) no-one spoke to me; they spoke to social media, a few spoke to the reporter friend of a rival event promoter; but not me.
For a long time, I wracked my brain to see what madness lay within, that I could commit such horrible crimes and not even know it, not remember, not journal it, on nights when I was out with my husband or surrounded by my staff, working, or basically anywhere other than out in the world, wreaking unspeakable havoc.
And eventually, I realized this thing: No-one was helped by my maintaining the fiction, the lie that had been thrust on everyone, that I was some kind of fiend in human form. There were some people who said that, during complicated kink interactions, they decided, years later, that they were unhappy. But those people have had their stories eviscerated and made into mythology of things which weren’t even in their story — horrific tales of assault and abuse which aren’t actually in even the few allegations I recognize. It was not true. And it was not helpful.
By now, even though there are entire social circles which take it as gospel that I’m a monster, it’s been one or two years — or more — since anyone has come to me with something I have done to them”. The “activists” — the ‘pseudo justice warriors’ — all come on behalf of “friends who wouldn’t lie”, or on behalf of “all women/all conventiongoers”, none of whom , they claim, can tolerate my monstrosity. And these accusers leap into my conversations, wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, with clear purpose: to make sure that anyone who has befriended me, who considers working with, who does not think I am an ultimate evil —sees that befriending me, even listening to me, might get them targeted, too. It’s not a warning for community safety; it’s a warning that stepping out of line might get you attacked the same way.
It’s true that in the world of Pseudo Social Justice, nearly anything can get you attacked by massive internet Mobs. But they don’t tell you that; they just claim they’re supported by a huge mob, and you’ll be safe…
…if you do everything the mob tells you to do.
They’re lying. But — having gone through the fire of the mob — I see how, and why, this is such a compelling argument. And likewise — having been through that fire, I no longer fear the inferno of lies, cursing, and Internet trolling, and I have finally come to stand alongside others who won’t put up with it, either.
Through all this time, I have been hesitant to be a voice of doubt, to say, “I have not done those things,” to stop giving the benefit of the doubt. But that just doesn’t make sense anymore. The truth is simple: I am not a criminal mastermind. I am not a rapist, much less a magical arch-predator, abusing hundreds or thousands of people (the reports, which no longer even claim to be anchored in fact, vary in scope from ‘huge, horrifying, and unbelievable’ to ‘unbelievable huge, horrifying, and unbelievable’). I am not the worlds most brilliant thief, somehow stealing untold billions of dollars, yet never having a single account by anyone from whom I supposedly ‘stole’ this money.
Even the best business can miss a payment or make a mistake; my business ought to have a legion, an army of unpaid people waving receipts and proof; instead, there’s just a pervasive, ever-increasing narrative that I robbed Fort Knox, Gringotts, and “everyone” I worked with. In reality, I paid out more of my company’s money than pretty much any other event company; and it seems to be a matter of faith that no-one would do such a thing without being filthy rich. The idea that I simply wanted to run events, and compensate my team no more than myself, was well-known when I was running events; but my ex-employees have stomped on that knowledge as hard as they could.
I listened to the doctrines of what I thought were the social justice of the day. When I was accused, I didn’t fight; I stepped down, because people kept saying it was the “only way” that the community could still have my events, and I went quiet instead of fighting.
What was the result? The ACTUAL destruction of money and value, as events were taken over by people who were by no means capable of running them, and years of blame-shifting right upon my sacrificial brow.
I’ve been out of touch with the original people involved for a long time — generally half a decade or more. What I’ve had, for at least a year now, is strangers, or, at best, demi-strangers, throwing attack after me and mine for things so far removed from anything I’ve done…. that I no longer recognize what they believe or think about me.
And there’s no point anymore.
There’s no way to contact any of the people who made any original claims, no matter what those claims are; and just no point. Even if any of those are real people talking about real events, I can’t find their stories to sort through them; I can’t help them; and they’ve retreated, either because they’re tired of being tools of the mob, or because they don’t want to be questioned, by any outside or unbiased authorities. about any stories they might have told.
So going forward, I’ll speak the truth:
“At the beginning of 2018, I was targeted by several sources, and attacked for the sake of politics, romantic revenge, personal gain, or dogmatic belief in the veracity of all allegations. It was politics, plain and simple and it ended twenty years of events and tried to end my life and reputation, and it set me free to do other things”.
Going forward: I have responsibilities: to write books, to put on events, and to keep creating art. And, when it comes to these allegations, my responsibilities are to speak truth, to find truth, and to insist on the truth — no matter who’s against me.
And that’s what I’m going to do.
-Jeff Mach