Wherein I argue that most of what you think you “know” about Jeffery Epstein is likely a rubbernecky movie that you conjured up in your own mind while being prompted by parties who had something to gain my amping up the horror value at every stage.

I doubt it is healthy to worry about sensational things that, practically speaking, mostly exist in our imaginations.

Life is actually beautifully boring, for almost all of us.