News Scrap

The infamous “Black Insurrectionist” social media account, known for peddling outlandish conspiracy theories about the 2024 presidential election, has been traced back to an unexpected source, according to AP.. Despite the profile presenting itself as a Black patriot rallying against perceived injustices, its creator has been revealed as Jason G. Palmer—a white businessman from upstate New York with a history of financial and legal troubles.

The “Black Insurrectionist” account amassed over 300,000 followers on X (formerly Twitter), posting sensational and often false claims about Democratic candidates, including Vice President Kamala Harris and Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, Harris’s running mate. Among the account’s most widely shared posts was a fabricated affidavit claiming that Harris was given debate questions in advance by ABC News—an allegation the network strongly denied. Despite the lack of evidence, the post garnered support from high-profile Republicans, including former President Donald Trump and his 2024 running mate, Ohio Senator J.D. Vance.

As election season heated up, the account escalated its efforts, recently circulating baseless claims about Gov. Walz’s past, alleging inappropriate behavior in his youth. U.S. intelligence officials later confirmed that this rumor was rooted in a Russian disinformation campaign, aimed at stirring distrust and division among voters.

Jason G. Palmer, the man behind the account, is far from the patriotic Black soldier he portrayed online. Public records and interviews reveal a complicated backstory, rife with accusations of fraud, struggles with addiction, and unresolved legal issues. The Associated Press traced the account to Palmer through a combination of open-source data and public records, revealing a history of unpaid debts, including over $6.7 million in back taxes owed to the state of New York.

Palmer, now 51, initially denied creating the account but admitted to “involvement” when contacted. In email exchanges, he provided conflicting statements, at one point claiming to have sold the account earlier this year while suggesting in a later interview that he still had some level of control. He hinted that his work on the account was part of a larger “research” effort, coordinated with unnamed “national” figures.

Palmer maintained that a Black friend was the primary operator of the account but refused to provide further details or facilitate contact with this person. Hours after the AP reached out to Palmer for comment, the “Black Insurrectionist” account was deactivated.

Those familiar with Palmer’s past weren’t surprised by his role in promoting disinformation. Kathleen Albano, whose late husband had a business relationship with Palmer, describes him as a man with “a way of roping people in” and leaving a trail of broken deals and unpaid debts. The Albanos say Palmer convinced them to invest in various ventures, all of which ended in disappointment and financial loss. “He owes me a ton of money,” Albano remarked, adding that she and her husband never sued because “you can’t get blood from a stone.”

Court records reveal a pattern of financial mismanagement and legal disputes throughout Palmer’s career. In the mid-2000s, Palmer’s attempt to build a real estate empire in Rochester, New York, fell apart, leaving him entangled in lawsuits from creditors seeking millions in unpaid loans. Some former associates even alleged that he forged their signatures on documents to take control of properties.

In one notable case from 2020, forensic specialists found evidence suggesting that Palmer had digitally manipulated signatures on a document involving an apartment complex. Palmer, however, denied wrongdoing, claiming that his former partner had orchestrated the fraud against him. The case was ultimately dismissed.

Palmer’s erratic behavior wasn’t confined to business dealings. Maureen Bass, a bankruptcy attorney who once represented Wells Fargo in a foreclosure case against him, recalls receiving a bizarre email “manifesto” in which Palmer accused government officials of conspiring against him. “It was rambling. He described himself as a victim of an ‘Axis of Evil,’ and claimed politicians had stolen his assets,” Bass said. Given this history, Bass wasn’t surprised to learn of Palmer’s connection to an account that specialized in sowing chaos and spreading misinformation.

The rapid spread of falsehoods from accounts like “Black Insurrectionist” has underscored the ease with which conspiracy theories can take hold online, especially with high-profile figures promoting unvetted claims. The account’s reach demonstrates the critical role that social media disinformation has played in shaping public opinion leading up to the 2024 election, raising concerns about the impact on an already polarized electorate.

The revelation that the “Black Insurrectionist” account was run by a white man pretending to be a Black patriot has further ignited debates around disinformation tactics and digital accountability. As the election approaches, platforms like X and the individuals who amplify questionable content are facing mounting scrutiny for their role in influencing what could be one of the closest presidential races in U.S. history.

For now, Palmer’s attempt to hide behind a fake persona may have come to an end, but the incident serves as a stark reminder of how easily misinformation can be manufactured, packaged, and distributed to millions with just a few clicks. As the nation braces for election night, the effects of these online campaigns are likely to linger well beyond the 2024 vote.