WINKGATE: AN EXCERPT FROM 'IN TRUDEAU'S KITCHEN'
Dear Friend: I hope this note finds you very well. I’m in the Washington, DC area right now. I’m blown away by all the energy here. Such a broad range of individuated humans, filled with life and possibility. Much has been happening around my book deal for In Trudeau's Kitchen. This is my tenth book, and the first one that has been plagued with a series of challenges. I will share more soon, but suffice to say that if something has a tremendous amount of light coming off of it, it will inevitably find itself challenged by the shadow. In this case, the book dispenses with the delusion that the Left is somehow kinder and gentler than the Right on the political spectrum. It isn’t. That is not something the Left wants the world to know. They have been demonizing the Right for years, while deftly avoiding ownership of their own hatefulness. And until we accept that, there is no chance we will be able to effect the kind of change that is necessary to take humanity to the next level. To put it simply, tyranny always masquerades as benevolence. That is true on both sides of the aisle.
Speaking of tyranny, a lengthy excerpt from the Trudeau book follows. And then, as promised, the first two chapters of my latest book, Where is God in all of this? A Conversation for paid subscribers of this newsletter. I will share two chapters per week, until In Trudeau’s Kitchen is published December 9th, 2025. In many ways, one book opens the door to the other.
WINKGATE (An Excerpt from ‘In Trudeau’s Kitchen’)
Background: My political debacle began in 2020, or thereabouts. The following excerpts relates to events that occurred in 2023. In January, 2023, a second police investigation into my allegations began. The first investigation had allegedly been stalled because I was said to have stalked Mrs. Trudeau. Nothing could be further from the truth—I severed from her. She pushed back. That’s the simple truth. Once the stalking story was laid to rest, the second police investigation began. Shortly after I gave my video statement, Trudeau’s Liberal administration used the media to announce that it was coming to the same town (about 1/4 mile from where I gave my statement) for a last-minute two-day cabinet meeting. Wonders never cease! Just after the ‘meeting’ ended, I received a series of emails from the involved police force (who had zero issues with my video statement and formally confirmed the investigation had begun days before Trudeau arrived) stating that something I said in my video statement now evinced a mental health issue. Classic ‘Martha Mitchell Effect’ stuff, designed to undermine the complainant’s credibility. Oh Canada, where have you gone?
~
On March 12th, I booked a 2-day writing-cation at a hotel in Guelph, Ontario (March 17th-19th). When I arrived at the hotel on March 17th, I saw something on TV that indicated that Trudeau was in Guelph that day to announce a $4 billion housing accelerator fund for Canada. How uncanny. I had lived in nearby Rockwood and didn’t remember him being in Guelph very often, if at all. That evening, while closing the drapes, I looked down at the parking lot and noticed that there were some large black vehicles that are often used to drive around dignitaries. I wondered to myself: “Is he staying here tonight?” I dismissed the thought and went back to work. It seemed unlikely, given that he made his announcement in the morning, and they can fly him back home to Ottawa on a moment’s notice.
When back there in June, I asked a hotel staff member if he had stayed there that night. She confirmed that he had stayed there for some, or all, of that evening. My instincts were right. For some strange reason, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was alone.
~
On March 27, the journalist on my story was good enough to arrange a meeting for us with a lawyer he had recently met. A very experienced litigator who had knowledge of the ways that the national security system functions within Canada.
While driving to the meeting, he and I had an intense phone conversation about things that had transpired. Even though I did not agree with his newspaper’s decision not to publish after the second police fiasco, I appreciated his efforts to bring the story through. It had been a lonely journey, and just the fact that there was an engaged journalist walking beside me was a great comfort. I am even left to wonder if his involvement in this story somehow kept me safe.
I met with them at a Wine Bar in downtown Toronto. This may have been the most useful conversation I’d had in over two years of trying to understand what the fuck was going on here. The lawyer had looked over some of the details of my story, and had some thoughts to share. I listened close, as he laid it down.
The first thing he noted was that it was very likely that CSIS was involved with some or all of the shenanigans. Not because I am an actual threat to the security of Canada, but because the information that I held—beginning with the material carelessly shared with me by Mrs. Trudeau in her kitchen—would be perceived as potential kompromat (a Russian word for damaging information, which may be used to create negative publicity, as well as for blackmail) that could be used against the administration. Of course, an ordinary citizen doesn’t think like this—our understanding of national security risks is only known vicariously, through television shows and films. I certainly had no interest in selling information to the Russkies, but government agencies tasked with protecting our borders, don’t know that until they look into you. The lawyer asserted that it was very likely they investigated me and my personal background, in one form or another, if only to ensure that I wasn’t an actual threat to national security. He also asserted that it would be best if I didn’t fly over Russian or Chinese airspace, given that it was certainly possible they have caught wind of this situation. He was concerned that they would find a way to force the plane to land, in an effort to gain access to my information.
Before I left the meeting, the lawyer agreed to submit my NSIRA application in his name. NISRA is a powerful independent entity that is tasked with looking into the files of various organizations (ie CSIS) to see if there is anything of relevance being hidden from view. After going through most of this alone, I finally understood the value of legal clout.
After the meeting, I took some time to integrate this information. Something about it felt significant. It wasn’t that I didn’t already know that I was being monitored by one entity or another. It was that I hadn’t really put all of this in the context of a national security threat. A journalist had mentioned something to that effect after digging around and speaking to one of their sources in the summer of 2021, but it hadn’t really landed then. In my naivete, I hadn’t fully understood that any information you hold that can expose the truth about national leadership will be immediately perceived as potentially dangerous on an international level. Throughout this situation—and certainly in those instances where Mrs. Trudeau reacted strongly after my attempts to disconnect—I saw it as a situation where she and possibly her husband were concerned about Canadians discovering compromising things about their marriage—and my political contributions—because of their potential effect on their political agendas. This did not move me, as a justification for the terrifying shenanigans of the past years.
Yet the issue of an international security threat did move me as an appropriate—albeit nefarious—justification. Not because I had any lingering compassion for the Trudeaus but because I am Canadian and have no interest in compromising our borders. I can comprehend, to some extent, that government agencies tasked with protecting national security have to keep watch on various people now and then. As long as they do it lawfully, it’s a necessary evil.
I sat with this perspective for some time to see how it might influence my drive to bring my story to the world. After much reflection, I decided to continue writing my story. Because even if this situation was truly about a perceived ‘national security risk,’ it should have been handled in a manner that respected the rights and well-being of this Canadian citizen. Simply put, they should have contacted me and talked it through face-to-face. I’m a reasonable person, always open to adult conversations. And CSIS is known for visiting with people of concern. It’s well within their ambit, and I would not have been offended by such a conversation. It would have helped me to understand the bigger picture. If they had done that, all of this may have gone down differently. But they didn’t. They either were never involved—which means all of this was possibly off-book—or they were somewhat involved and didn’t have the professional integrity to contact me directly. Nobody did, except Mrs. Trudeau. But by then it was too late. I already knew that these tricksters were not my people.
~
On Friday, April 14, I received a key text from the journalist, checking in to see if there had been any progress on my NSIRA application:
[Journalist]
Yo. Any updates?
[Jeff]
Focused on many aspects including the submissions through (name redacted—the lawyer we recently met with)
[Journalist]
Are you guys in touch?
[Jeff]
Sent him the stuff to submit. And just checked and we r opening a file. I am not stopping until there is justice.
[Journalist]
Who is opening a file?
[Jeff]
(lawyer name redacted)
[Journalist]
Great!
The fact that a leading journalist from a Liberal newspaper was excited about the NSIRA application, would not make the Liberal administration happy.
Two mornings later, on Sunday April 16, I and his helper received the following text from the Journalist, sent at 9:06 AM Pacific Standard Time:
“Funny story this morning, gentlemen. I was jogging on the sea wall in Vancouver. A guy passes me slowly to my left. Another guy is behind him. They continue for a few minutes running slightly ahead of me, then the first guy stops, turns around and heads back. As he passes me, he looks at me and I at him. It’s Justin. He gives me a smile and a wink.”
Yes, dear reader, you read that right.
The next day, I took a look at the Prime Minister’s publicly posted itinerary for Sunday April 16, and it clearly stated the following:
National Capital Region, Canada
Personal
Needless to say, the National Capital Region is the Ottawa area. And I suppose ‘personal reasons’ includes flying across the country to smile and wink at the prominent journalist covering my story... only a few days after we had texts confirming my NSIRA application.
Just letting him know he’s there. Just like they’ve been letting me know they’re there, for years.
Synchronicity? I’ll let you be the judge.
Where is God in all of this? A Conversation
The Preface gives you a clear sense of the relationship between my political nightmare and the birthing of this book. Never in my life had I felt so hopeless. And then I turned to the Creator, in the hopes that there was something there for me. There was, and a lovely little book (and teaching model—The Encodings Method) was birthed:
Chapters One and Two Follow…