The Epstein's Galaxy Of Filth!

Imagine this: Nobel laureates, presidents, billionaires, Harvard presidents, and royals all lining up to befriend a man already convicted as a sex offender. They partied on his island, flew on his plane, took his money, called him “Uncle Jeffrey.”

What the hell were they thinking?

The latest Epstein file dumps—millions of pages released in early 2026—lay it bare. And the only thing clearer than the depravity is the elite impunity staring back at us. This saga redefines exasperation.

We’re the ordinary people: non-billionaires, non-millionaires, barely graduated, no Nobels, no crowns, no black books. We no longer know what to feel. A galaxy of the ultra-wealthy, brilliant minds, and tycoons orbited a convicted pedophile. Money? Most had mountains of it. Did even the geniuses need his cash? Perhaps. But didn’t their rare intelligence equip them to spot the monster?

The Clinton Piece Fits Too Perfectly
Even without documents, common sense screamed Bill Clinton belonged in Epstein’s world—like two Lego bricks snapping together. The ties ran deeper. Clinton’s Global Initiative got nearly $1 million from Epstein for the launch of the initiative. Per Ghislaine Maxwell, she played critical role in setting up the foundation. To 'go above and beyond' it seems she even had an affair with Doug Band - top aide of Bill Clinton. Epstein even visited the White House multiple times. Clinton-era networks flowed into Obama’s administration; leftovers lingered in Democratic Party circles. Take Kathryn Ruemmler: Obama’s White House Counsel, later Goldman Sachs’ top lawyer. She stayed close to Epstein after his 2008 conviction, offering pro-bono advice on his sexual-assault charges. Emails show her thanking “Uncle Jeffrey” for luxury gifts—Hermès bags, spa days, flowers.

(Quick aside: Is “Uncle” the new Gen-Z code for “Daddy”? Maybe we should ask Kethryn about legality of these terms!)

The Banks That Still Cash the Checks
JP Morgan allegedly polished Epstein’s image and possibly laundered funds—yet consequences remain light (settlements in 2023, other scrutiny ongoing). Goldman Sachs—famous for blurring public-private lines—backed Ruemmler until the pressure became a “distraction.” They preferred keeping someone who aided a convicted pedophile over finding a replacement. Now, JP Morgan’s revenue nears $280 billion; Goldman’s at $58 billion. They don’t care about public scorn. Money flowed before, during, and after conviction—and still flows long after Epstein’s death. Clinton? Untouchable. Accused of worse, elected president, weathered every storm. This is a teacup tempest for him—his duck’s-back skin has seen it all.

Academia’s Shameful Blind Spot
Some patterns make grim sense: Clinton’s womanizing history, banks’ ethical sleaze (Goldman’s 2008 crisis role). But Larry Summers? Towering economist, ex-Treasury Secretary, ex-Harvard president—what did he need from Epstein that his brilliance couldn’t supply? (How great was Larry summers? - at the age of 28 he became the youngest tenured professor in Harvard's history.) Yet he courted favor eagerly, fawning over him in the photo below. . Noam Chomsky—fierce power critic, one of the sharpest minds alive—sought Epstein’s help for a “purely technical” estate arrangement for his late wife. Really? No one in MIT’s circle, Harvard’s backyard, or New York’s intellectuals sufficed? Of course, Summer and Chomsky are in an august company when it comes to snuggling with Epstein. There are  mathematicians, linguists, physicists, geneticists—stayed close post-2008. They all pleaded remorse when confronted with initial list of documents. But as more deluge followed, it was clear that these people knowingly continued their close contact with Epstein. What could be their defense for this laps in judgement? “Nerds miss social cues” (dubious). Or “science needs funding—we overlooked the rest” (worse). Funding scarcity is eternal; it never justified giggling with a predator. For the love of god, please don’t drag science into your moral excuses. In Epstein they saw money, fame and contacts. They saw their vanity and ego getting massaged - literally and figuratively. None of them cared for morality and ethics. They probably never thought they will be held accoutable. Why would they?

The Hidden Elite Economy
Lust for attractive—and underage—women was one draw (unless you’re Prince Andrew, where lust seems the whole story). The rest? They are masters of a shadow economy where only uber-elites are the members and the favors is the table setters and women are merely a currency. None of these powerfuls ever imagined leaks. If billions and titles don't buy discernment, what does?If everyone’s naked in the pool, shame dissolves.

But the rest of us aren’t in that pool. What Do We Learn? Painfully Little. None of these A-'listers' will face real punishment. Their PR machines will spin like a washing machine, delivering either faded narrative or cleaner images. Forget about punishments, their lifestyles won’t see a dent worth a cent. They’ll reconvene at Davos, Clinton initiatives, the next elite forum—trading more power and wealth.

The convicted, the accused, the complicit will continue to be the most powerful people on earth, wielding outsized control over our lives. The file releases were like opening of a wormhole, allowing us us a rare, unfiltered glimpse into elite worlds' debauchery and ethical decay. Once every page is out, we’ll know even more—but knowing changes almost nothing on its own.

They keep ruling.

We keep watching, exasperated and angry.

NBA - Home Of Basketball or Of Basketball Betting?

The NBA ship is lately hitting the choppy waters. The betting scandal that rocked the league a few months ago was quietly swept under the rug, with only a handful of arrests made so far. The federal investigation is still ongoing, and more indictments are expected. NBA Commissioner Adam Silver shed what appeared to be crocodile tears over the controversy, offering a feeble defense of the league’s internal probe—which somehow missed the blazing inferno even as the house burned down. The NBA had investigated certain players a couple of years earlier and cleared them of any wrongdoing. Yet those same players, along with a prominent coach, were later indicted by federal authorities for the very schemes the league had supposedly scrutinized. Silver’s excuse was laughable: He claimed the NBA lacks the sophistication and subpoena power of federal investigators, leading to a “clean chit” for the suspects. Or was it simply that the league didn’t care about rooting out betting irregularities, as long as it didn’t derail their push for legalized gambling?

Betting has plagued professional sports since their modern inception. It’s a vice that never remains contained, which is why gambling is banned in much of the world—or, where permitted, heavily taxed. It draws in shady operators, increasing the odds of match-fixing and corruption. In early 20th-century English football betting was rampant, fueling scandals that tarnished the game. After all, who insists that sports or athletes must be paragons of ethics? It’s entertainment, proponents argue—as long as fans are thrilled, why peek behind the curtain at how the sausage is made? There are countless justifications for legalizing betting: Fixing is outlawed, patterns can be monitored, and government or third-party watchdogs can sniff out culprits. Sure, but can these safeguards be foolproof 100% of the time? If not, what slips through the cracks? How does it skew games or entire seasons? These are unknown unknowns, and sports can’t afford them. Without transparency, a league risks losing its popularity—or worse, its legitimacy. Consider the difference: WWE is wildly popular, but is it seen as legitimate? Does the NBA aspire to be a spectacle or a sport of integrity?

NBA Commissioner Adam Silver has been a vocal advocate for sports betting on league games. In 2018, following the U.S. Supreme Court’s landmark ruling, the NBA eagerly embraced legalized wagering. The league was already surging in popularity (and still is), with revenue streams—especially lucrative TV deals—pouring in billions. But greed knows no bounds. Team ownership was shifting, with valuations skyrocketing: Franchises once sold for hundreds of millions were now fetching billions. This attracted ultra-wealthy owners fixated on maximizing profits. Silver and these moguls formed a perfect storm, steering the NBA into murky waters where once-shady practices could be whitewashed as legitimate. The league has faced referee-fixing before—the 2007 Tim Donaghy scandal exposed how fragile the game’s integrity is, with countless variables ripe for exploitation. More recently, a Miami Heat security guard was convicted for stealing and selling worn jerseys of stars like LeBron James and Dwyane Wade, pocketing hundreds of thousands in the black market. Was that his only hustle? Or did he also leak insider info—like player rotations—for spot bets? We may never know, but the question will always linger.

The NBA urges us to trust them, touting their detection systems for players potentially throwing games. Another common refrain: Athletes earn so much that the risks of betting far outweigh the rewards. Yet both arguments crumbled in recent years, as millionaire players and coaches were indicted anyway. What if those caught argue that if the league profits from betting, why can’t they?

Baseball’s steroid scandal in the early 2000s dealt a devastating blow to its popularity and viewership. It took nearly two decades for the sport to rebound—and even then, interest hasn’t fully recovered. Perhaps tastes have shifted, but it’s undeniable that the integrity crisis left permanent scars. When trust erodes, everything else becomes irrelevant. In its insatiable quest for revenue, the NBA is barreling toward a similar abyss—one that’s bad for the game, the players, and the fans. Does the league care enough about basketball’s soul to pump the brakes?