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a settlement.)
It is hard to find a more hyperbolic intersection of media and lawyers then in
Epstein’s case.
Edwards, over the six years of his law suit, tries to depose Clinton, Donald
Trump, and Dershowitz—almost all of his targets coming directly from the
original Vanity Fair and New York Magazine articles about Epstein.
In addition to Prince Andrew as a British hot button, first connected to
Epstein through Roberts’ interview with the Daily Mail in 2010, Clinton takes on a
new role as Hillary spoiler through his connection, real or imagined, to Epstein and
sex Slaves.
Almost everybody identified in any story about Epstein is approached by
other media seeking to write about Epstein, often with financial incentives offered
in exchange for a tale.
No new stories or even new details emerge. Every aspect of the current story
is based on court filings describing events that may or may not have taken place
prior to 2007. It’s as though a kind of ground-hog day of moral opprobrium, a
desire to repeat and to savor a new the old details.
A recent Reuters story identified a charity that Epstein has not given money
to in 15 years that said if he does give again, they would give it back.
The world cleanly divides, with Epstein (and friends) behind secure walls
and the Mail and social media and upholders of new norms ever more incredulous
and apoplectic that Epstein not only appears free but prospers too. Although he
has spent more than a year in jail and paid out what may be as much as $20
million, he yet seems somehow to have not been sufficiently punished—that worst
sin of all. He is the unrepentant catch all of up-to-the-minute badness: the financier
whose wealth is a product of Wall Street math rather than hard work; a rich
middle-age white man who not only parades his wealth and entitlement, but has a
Peter Pan complex to boot; an insistent Playboy in a correct and prudish
world—someone who somehow didn’t get the memo about vast changes in mores
and culture.
When I suggested recently that one obvious way to blunt the animus would
be to get married, he said he’d rather go back to jail.
He is Calvin Harris’s song, It Was Acceptable in the 80s, come to life.
This is all, of course, a Gatsby-like tale: An enigmatic, and strangely
appealing figure, able to invent and inhabit his own world is a mystery to try to
decipher. Of course Gatsby in New York Post and Daily Mail parlance would
likely be just a freaky financier too.
And this story is, in its way, about the limitation of journalism, in which the
most compelling parts of the tale—Epstein’s ambitions and impulses would be
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