Foreword
The Next York Times debuted on Substack in December 2022. However, it includes content stretching back before that.
A hand-bound limited edition book called Gender Treaty came off the Brooklyn press of Next York in December 2019. It was immediately sold only on the streets of New York City as a preliminary for the debut of The Next York Project, which was scheduled for beta in late 2020. There was no Internet presence, for a reason.
By late February of 2020, just two months after the book was completed, it was clear that the SARS-CoV-19 pandemic had axed those plans.
As the author’s grandmother says, “If you want to make God laugh, tell God your plans,” and that suddenly came into effect for most of us. But a curious thing happened: the book that joked it was meant to be an in-person version of Bumble or Hinge for the author, which it wasn’t, led to exactly that, quickly.
The author gave a copy of the book to a friend of a friend at the last party of Feb 2020 before the pandemic news dropped, just weeks before lockdown. This initial connection led to an eventual beautiful pandemic cohabitation in Montclair, NJ, beautiful and historic Illuminati media stronghold.
After The Next York Times had its beta release using Doomed Twitter in Feb 2022, the pressure that caused those reasons intensified. The relationship was unfortunately doomed by the reasons the book was written and the May Roe SCOTUS “leak” caused The Next York Times to scrutinize Ginni Thomas.
The reasons the book was written was a fight the author was engaged in regarding his 100 year-old NYC family tailoring business and an even more illegal and wrongful Britney Spears type mental health scam they had to emancipate themselves from, or else. Early 2019 had seen this conflict spill over into the author’s network, through the medium of group emails.
Gender Treaty was written in a prose form that’s been condensed and referenced inline here. The book was written quickly in order to train for an internet campaign the author had planned for 2022, which would involve live writing on Twitter. That training paid off, and the live writing campaign was called The Next York Times, which *despite not allowing followers*, attracted seven figure views, got involved in several big controversies, and ran the author’s story for the first time.
That story was simultaneously acknowledged using LinkedIn, in concise form, integrated into the employment history section. The author had been gaslit about something so legitimate (and criminal) that it could be listed as part of LinkedIn employment history. But this was the moment of truth that would determine if lawsuits or other legal retaliation would start against the author for public speech.
The Twitter campaign was launched at the same time in order to support the LinkedIn disclosure, with an assumed private and minimal audience who had skin in the game. For this reason The Next York Times didn’t allow followers, as it was exploratory to see if there could be legal action.
However, as The Next York Times began retweeting and getting involved in the incredible Twitter lunacy that was going on at that time, there was one follower it couldn’t block and then unblock to shake: Sarah Rudolph Collins, a survivor of a KKK church bombing in the 1960s, who lost her sister Addie Mae to the event.
We use part of Gender Treaty here while building inline around the text. Gender Treaty was kept from Internet presence and distributed only in person because it was actually an early tactical part of the emancipation campaign. It was deliberately provocative in a tactical way that was not intended to be a matter of permanent record. This is related to the conception of Identity Warfare, one of the foundational models of the Next York Project.