Thousands of Messages to Audit Sudden Deaths
A citizen compilation has already gathered thousands of messages with a single purpose: to link, tag, and archive sudden deaths reported in the press, almost always local and provincial. Behind this is no official statistics, no civil registry, no medical society. It's a manual, almost notarial, accounting that has been accumulating cases daily and has become the unofficial reference for those who suspect that the drip-feed of heart attacks, fulminant tumors, and fainting spells while driving no longer adds up to normal.
The intuition fueling it is simple: almost no one dies of natural causes in headlines anymore. People collapse, drown, are found lifeless, suffer a long illness of three weeks, or faint on a perfectly straight highway. The language used to describe everyday deaths, they argue, is a language that conceals.
The project began as a second part of a previous compilation, which its organizers say they fled due to management disagreements, and today functions as a collaborative effort. Some track the provincial press. Others write the day's narrative. Others discuss the official figures encountered along the way. What is archived are not certainties, but headlines. And that, probably, is the key to everything.
What is 'Repentinitis' and How Each Case is Tagged
The method has its own jargon, and that jargon summarizes the entire project. Each death receives a tag. There's repentinitis, an umbrella term for sudden death without an explained cause. There's turbocancer, for tumors diagnosed and resolved in weeks. There's the category for those found by the classic 'bad smell' house procedure, those found floating, those who fall on a straight road with no traffic.
Two formulas are repeated ad nauseam. The first is an accident = one death, the suspicion that behind the incident there was a prior collapse that no one mentions and that the Civil Guard investigates without finding. The second is hallanencuentranaparece (found-found-appears), a play on the verbs the media use to announce a corpse without explaining the cause of death. One participant even compiled a list of euphemisms that, read aloud, sounds like a clinical glossary: fish-out-of-water syndrome, immersion syndrome, incomplete drowning, decompensation, collapse, death spin, long illness, unknown causes.
Other tags are more domestic and considerably crueler. RAR—repentinizada a remojo (sudden death while soaking)—describes someone who dies in a pool or river. Episodes of drivers losing consciousness at the wheel, veering off the road, and causing destruction are dubbed Mad Max. When heavy machinery is involved in the incident, the section is titled, unashamedly, the machines' rebellion.
The Daily Drip: Motorcyclists, Tractors, and Beaches
The volume is what impresses newcomers the most. The compilation is not fed by exotic cases, but by everyday occurrences. A motorcyclist who falls while stationary and is seriously injured. A tractor that overturns due to a three-meter drop. A driver who rear-ends the trailer in front on a highway with no curves. A female driver who goes off the road on an airport-straight stretch, overturns, and gets trapped.
Added to these are the lifelong deaths, those found at home, on the roadside, or on the promenade, and the obituaries of celebrities, journalists, and notable neighbors. The mix is deliberate: next to the famous is the anonymous, and next to the heart attack is the traffic accident, because what they want to demonstrate is precisely that the border between the two has become porous.
The person maintaining the registry summarizes the situation in a recurring phrase: one accident, one death. The slogan functions as a chorus and a warning. Every unexplained road departure, every straight-line collision, every collapse that ends against a wall is another piece of the same pattern.
The Numbers the Registry Uses as Proof
When the compilation wants to argue with official data, it doesn't use its own lists. It uses others'. And there appear headlines that, taken out of their historical series, are striking.
One of the most repeated is regional: Galicia registered the deaths of 47 workers in occupational accidents during the first nine months of 2024, an 11.9% increase from the 42 in the same period of 2023, and most of these incidents were due to heart attacks and strokes, entrapments, and traffic accidents. Another is health-related: in just one hospital area in Pontevedra, 1,397 new cancer cases were treated in one year, almost 40% more than before the pandemic.
Added to these are the 40% increase in skin cancer in four years, the 32 deaths in South Korea after the flu vaccination campaign, the six firefighters who died in three months in an English region, or the six participants who died in Pfizer vaccine trials, four of whom had received the placebo. None of these headlines proves anything on their own. Together, they argue, they form a noise that can no longer be silenced.
The registry also notes more uncomfortable contrasts. At the tribute to the year's deceased at a major awards gala, a participant counted no fewer than forty names spread across four or five rounds, some very young. His comment was a single sentence: the song playing was If You're Not Here.
From the Second Part to a Thousand Pages: How the Tone Changed
Veterans of the compilation agree that the pace has accelerated. If at the beginning it was around one or two cases a day, in the tough months it reached two or three a day declared. Then came a phrase that became a recurring joke—in the Canary Islands, no one dies—alluding to regional statistics—and, as a bonus, the suspicion that the official numbers from that community didn't match the trickle of news.
The conversation also shifted focus, from the anecdotal to the systemic. Initially, cases were added and tragedies were discussed. Then, public records, pharmacovigilance protocols, and draft decrees began to be debated. One of the most discussed campaigns was the mass emailing against the future vaccination information system, considered by the signatories an attack on privacy and data protection, with acknowledgment to the ministry's public information office.
And in the final stretch, material that is not Spanish emerges. A preliminary study attributed to Yale scientists on T-cell exhaustion and Spike protein persistence in some vaccinated individuals circulated rapidly. With a nuance that almost no one highlighted: it was a preprint, meaning a work pending peer review.
What the Registry Lacks to Be Proof
Here lies the crux, and those who maintain the list know it better than anyone. A compilation of news is not an epidemiological study. The local press does not publish all deaths, only those that reach them. The cause is rarely detailed. And the comparison with the past is done by eye, without denominators.
Within the compilation itself, two opposing readings coexist. One holds that the succession of heart attacks in young, athletic people is unprecedented in the direct experience of those who write: forty-somethings who go out on their bikes and don't return, sixty-year-old neighbors found in bed, work colleagues with fulminant tumors. The other responds wryly that fulminant heart attacks have always existed, and the only thing that has changed is the age of the observer: at twenty, no one died; at sixty, everyone dies.
The most cited argument to dismantle official statistics is recording bias. Before, dying of a heart attack on a Tuesday in the office ended with an obituary no one read. Now, it ends up on a portal, in a message, and in the search engine, read by an algorithm. None of this turns a coincidence into a cause. But, they retort, it also doesn't automatically turn a question into noise.
What Affected Individuals Say
The most delicate part of the registry consists of first-person testimonies. Some recount two venous thromboses of unknown origin after two doses, with doctors unable to find the cause. Some tell of their 91-year-old grandmother, in robust health, suffering an unexpected stroke. Others speak of a 40-year-old physiotherapist operated on for gallstones with no prior pathologies.
These are personal accounts, without medical history in sight, impossible to verify, and therefore impossible to aggregate. Nor do they serve as proof in the opposite direction: one person recounting a case proves nothing about millions. But they explain the tone of urgency and the distrust of official series that permeates the entire compilation.
Here also coexist hypotheses that the community itself discusses without reaching agreement. Diagnoses of autism in the family, comparisons with unvaccinated communities, infections that were previously mild and now lead to sepsis. Everything is thrown onto the same board, and almost always, nothing is concluded.
The Famous People Who Promoted the Vaccine and Later Fell Ill
The most-read section, by far, is that of well-known faces. The pattern their authors seek is always the same: someone who publicly promoted vaccination and who, months or years later, was hospitalized or died. The registry highlights this with screenshots of the promotion and the news of the diagnosis or death, without establishing a causal link between the two events, because it cannot.
A 39-year-old American presenter who had encouraged vaccination on his social media; a 43-year-old Korean R&B singer found lifeless at home; an Italian rapper rushed to the hospital who had announced his third dose with his partner; a 60-year-old woman with a newly diagnosed lung cancer. None of these illnesses, in the links shared, have the vaccine as a declared cause. What the registry measures is not causality, but narrative irony.
In the background remains the question that is answered neither by screenshots nor by subtitles: if the contrast between the public message and the private outcome proves something, or merely proves that famous people experience the same things as everyone else, only with more witnesses.
The Case That Did Reach the Courts and Prosecutor's Office
Where the list ceases to be a list and enters the realm of documented facts is in the litigated cases. The most cited is that of a Barcelona teacher who was vaccinated with AstraZeneca in February 2021. Weeks later, he began bleeding from his mouth and spent a week in the ICU with a pulmonary embolism, another in the portal vein, and critically low platelets. The diagnosis was vaccine-induced immune thrombotic thrombocytopenia, known by its acronym, VITT.
The man testified in 2022 before a parliamentary commission on vaccines and in 2023 before the Labor Health Prosecutor's Office. The Administration's response, according to the account, was to absolve itself: the injection had been voluntary. That detail, voluntariness as a legal shield, is what causes the most outrage and turns a statistic into a legal problem.
From there, the conversation bifurcates. One part demands compensation and public records of adverse reactions. Another recalls that the pharmacovigilance system reports suspicions, not diagnoses, and that confusing these two terms is the quickest way to inflate a figure until it means nothing.
Over time, the compilation continues to be published each morning. The names change, the provinces change, the verbs repeat. How many sudden deaths are needed for an anecdote to become data? The registry now has thousands of answers and no answers.
Summary of a discussion on Burbuja.info - Foro de economía, actualidad y política., translated from Spanish and reviewed before publication.
Read the full discussion (22071 replies).