There was excitement in the air along Highway 40. There were about twenty of us waiting for him to come. Shortly after 11 a.m., he appeared like a star, posing for the cameras before taking his place behind a forest of microphones. In front of him, an audience of journalists. Behind, a solemn decor: flags of Quebec, Canada and the United States.
Posted at 7:16 p.m.
Suspense. Was James William Awad going to announce the creation of the Holiday Ostrogoth Party?
Not at all. If he had invited the journalists to a press conference, it was mainly to promote a virtual event that he will organize for Valentine’s Day.
No kidding. I would give you the details, but I was so stunned by the absurdity of the situation that I forgot to take notes.
But all is not lost, dear readers, since I still found my senses in time to jot down this shocking statement: “After Mexico, I went to Disneyland. I advise everyone to go to Disneyland. It’s really fun. »
You can imagine that this time I frantically scribbled the sentence in my notebook.
Disney-land…
Really fun…
This is undoubtedly what the Ostrogoth-in-chief said most pertinently to the journalists crowded into the entrance hall of his headquarters, an empty setting for his empty shells.
It must be said that the reporters were not entitled to more than one question, under penalty of immediate expulsion.
“Have you ever cheated?
– No. Next question? »
Let’s say that limits the conversation.
That said, Yves Poirier used a clever subterfuge, presenting himself sometimes as a journalist from TVA, sometimes from the QMI agency, sometimes from the “Quebecor empire” (his words). His cover was perfect. Everyone saw nothing but fire.
Unlucky enough to work for an empire, I wasted my only question asking James Awad if he would admit that it was still a little bit dangerous, doing the big party on a plane…
I regretted it. I should have asked the question that now torments all those who had nothing better to do, Thursday morning, than to listen to this press conference live: how, exactly, is a decentralized life? By setting up an estate in Bois-des-Filion? By investing in a myriad of companies no one has ever heard of?
If life spared you listening to that surreal press conference, know that “decentralized living” is James Awad’s key to success. His answer to everything.
Why did he do business with a fraudster?
“I see life in a decentralized way. »
How did he make his fortune?
“We live a decentralized life. »
Why did his guests smear their nostrils with Vaseline to thwart COVID-19 tests?
“We live in a decentralized world. »
The answer invariably rang out, as if this decentralized life explained everything. As if that meant anything.
The irony, of course, is that James William Awad seems totally focused on his own navel.
I know, I give him a platform. I help feed his already oversized ego. But admit that this story full of twists and turns is fascinating.
It also raises real questions of public interest. My colleagues’ investigation, released on Wednesday, found the 28-year-old businessman was on the radar of at least two regulatory entities.
Have you read this solid investigation, which raises very troubling questions about the origin of the fortune of the millionaire from Bois-des-Filion? Did you enjoy it?
Well, James Awad too. “I enjoyed reading this article,” he texted my colleague Mayssa Ferah, who interviewed him for more than two hours.
Yes The Press paper still existed, he would probably have the report rolled up. Literally: since the media coverage of the Montreal-Cancún flight of Sunwing, he has been laminating devastating articles about it!
Thursday, after being bombarded with questions that would have made me want to go hide under a rock, he told reporters that he had found it “really fun” to meet them…
All told, this guy lives well in a decentralized world. I would even say a parallel world.
James Awad claims to have made millions by selling to “several national and international companies” a computer program invented when he was 14 years old.
Which companies? Oh that ! He can’t tell. Confidential.
In an interview, Mayssa Ferah had to face the king of dodging. James Awad’s responses veered off in all directions. To the point, often, of not holding up…
On several occasions, he explained to her that he could not answer a specific question because he was saving it for his biography. “I would love to tell you that, but I’m going to tell you about it in my book. »
It reminds me of an interview I conducted on May 15, 2015, at a table in the restaurant at the Bonaventure Hotel. My interlocutor used the same pretext to refuse to answer my questions: he was writing a book about his life. “You’ll understand that in the book,” he repeated to me.
Seven years later, we are still waiting for the memoirs of François Bugingo.