Dear Julian,

I ask myself if it has been in fact eight years already, then I recall that I too probably have been in the state of mind of a prisoner since your fall from grace in 2010 – when they tried to reduce you from a pioneer engineer and investigative journalist to a rapist. Our fate has become more intertwined than anyone could have imagined circa 1995, when I was given a Win95 unit connected to the wild wild dimension called the Internet, the world that you helped built is the one that I grew up in. You taught me the essence of logical reasoning, quantum physics, and mathematics. The oracle once put my demise at the age of 28. Given the current state of geopolitical affairs it is fair to say that I’m staying right on course. Now that I have a dissertation to write about you and your work I might be able to push that to 30. With my sight deteriorating by day, my only wish is to witness that vindictive smile of yours as you walk out of the Ecuadorian embassy as a free man. The Internet, with its built-in organic morality, has only begun to livefeed us the stream of people squirming in their perpetual state of mediocrity, hypocrisy, and lies. And they keep wondering why millennials are depressed, angry, and suicidal like it is the million-dollar question that calls for a million-dollar solution, while the mere act of pointing out that the emperor has no clothes is a crime of wrong think, punishable not by death but by exile to a Kafkaesque limbo of trials and processes. My sole comfort lies in the mathematical certainty that with the current trajectory of development, AI is going to wipe out humanity like chemotherapy to cancer cells if a handful of I-don’t-know-whos have decided on behalf of our society that in their narrow interest it is best to shoot the doctors in the face to avoid further embarrassment. You are my hero, you have been and will remain so, no matter what dirty tricks they try to pull on you. Their hostility is misguided; their indifference is what pains me every day.