Big Beautiful Birthday Book Bust

A photo of Jeffrey Epstein from his “Birthday Book,” alongside a companion whose identity has been concealed without explanation

Just as the Charlie Kirk shooting happened a few weeks ago, I was working on an article about the so-called “Epstein Birthday Book,” which had just been released with great fanfare, and was briefly dominating the news-cycle. For obvious reasons, that article got put on hold. However, there are still some observations worth making. And yes, I read the entire stupid “Birthday Book” — or at least the parts that weren’t plastered with ridiculous, unexplained redactions. If you’d really like, you can find the complete copy of the “Birthday Book” file here, courtesy of the GOP majority on the House Oversight Committee.

If one scans through this dopey book with any measure of objectivity — impossible as that might be for anything Epstein-related — it should immediately become obvious that the overriding (intended) tone is one of humor and spoof. Not unlike the general tone of the jokey, lame birthday cards you might see on sale at a novelty store, where the idea is to “celebrate” a person’s landmark birthday with some light-hearted ribbing — or, yes, “funny” sexual innuendo. Most of the time, a 50th birthday card along these lines would satirize the sexual infirmities of aging. “You are turning 50,” reads one representative card I found. “Wow, you’re getting old. But you know what… with age comes wisdom…” Then you open the card, and out pops the punchline: “...And saggy balls!” Along with a cartoon depiction of a drooping scrotum. OK, hilarious stuff.

But with Epstein, the jokes were rather inverted, because he clearly had a reputation as exceptionally… virile. Remember, his 50th birthday (January 2003) would’ve been right around the time that Ghislaine Maxwell recently said he was taking what she considered to be excessively high doses of testosterone. But the testimonials of old pals in the Birthday Book also indicate that Jeffrey’s high-octane “Ladies’ Man” ways went back considerably further — even to his adolescence. So this was clearly seen by many who knew him as a defining characteristic of Epstein, and it’s the thing many of his friends and associates chose to make cheeky jokes about for his stupid Birthday Book. Though in fairness, whether testosterone-aided or not, it must be said that Jeffrey did look superb in a speedo, even in his advancing middle age.

One of the Birthday Book contributors, Terry Kafka, spoke to the Dallas Morning News shortly after the full PDF file was unveiled by the House Oversight Committee on September 8. Confirming what had already been well-known, Kafka said it was Ghislaine Maxwell who took the lead in compiling the book. And she had advised him to make his contribution “as funny as you can… you can even make it a little raunchy. Give him a laugh.” So that’s what Kafka did. Admittedly, the letter this fellow ultimately submitted is quite bizarre, however in keeping it might’ve been with the “raunchy” and humorous theme. “Fifty years old,” Kafka writes his childhood buddy Jeff. “You really have had a pretty amazing life. Amazing because of where and when it started. Paula and Seymour fucking. Who was there to tell him where to stick it? Who told him to spit on her cunt to make it wet?” While I personally find it hard to imagine ever writing about a friend’s parents’ fornication in such comically graphic terms, it strikes me as something out of “The Aristocrats,” where the idea is that the “joke” is supposed to get more and more outrageously filthy. That, unto itself, is pretty much the whole “joke.” Not everyone’s cup of tea, sure, but the immediate compulsion that so many on social media exhibited to portray this overboard “raunchy” humor as something inherently sinister — or that it was obviously intended to evoke secret pedophilia activities — is just another example of how impossible it is to evaluate anything related to Epstein with any degree of normal, rational discernment.

Another contributor to the birthday debauchery, Bill Elkus, was also swiftly confronted by the media about the dainty letter he’d sent in. “It’s no secret that Jeffrey appreciates beautiful women,” Elkus wrote. “But not many people know that he can create them out of thin air.” Elkus then goes on to tell a tale about Epstein improbably meeting an attractive woman in Iowa, who quickly agreed to fly back with him to New York. Elkus impishly casts this as a remarkable achievement, because in Iowa, he says, “there’s more than a little truth to the saying that it’s hard to tell the difference between the girls and the hogs.”

We’re all supposed to be extremely scandalized by this, I guess, even though Elkus clarified to his media interrogator that the woman reportedly seduced by Epstein was a “mature” adult.

The histrionic puritanism with which this stuff gets interpreted is more than a little ironic. In a culture that churns out such a steady deluge of what could be generously described as “raunchy” entertainment — TV, movies, video games, social media, etc. — to suddenly act like everyone’s obliged to get their collective panties in a bunch over “dirty,” sexually suggestive jokes is pretty rich. That’s never been a style of humor that I’ve personally found particularly funny or interesting, but then again, I’ve also never seen movies like “Old School” or “American Pie,” both of which also happened to come out in 2003, and which I’ve always understood to have been wildly popular — mainly due to their “raunchy” (sexualized) humor. I certainly recall the DVDs being staples of college dorm rooms. (For the nitpickers, “American Wedding,” one of several installments of the “American Pie” franchise, is what came out in 2003. And for good measure, the movie version of “The Aristocrats” joke, with various prominent comedians reciting their favorite filthy version, came out in 2005.)

You can say that Epstein apparently relishing in such crass low-brow humor made him juvenile or immature, and I wouldn’t necessarily disagree. But the implicit premise in much of the commentary surrounding the “Birthday Book” publication was that the intolerable “raunchiness” contained therein was obviously supposed to indicate that Epstein’s friends and associates were fully aware he was running a giant pedophile ring — and were alluding to this forbidden knowledge with their jocular birthday notes. Of course, this makes zero sense. Epstein wasn’t even investigated for any illicit sexual activity until 2005, and the earliest any of these people could’ve heard about his legal embroilments would’ve almost certainly been 2006 — if they even knew about it then. So what could notable Birthday Card Givers such as Donald Trump, Bill Clinton, Ace Greenberg, Mort Zuckerman, etc. have realistically known in 2003, when they sent off their cheerful well-wishes to Ghislaine Maxwell?

Well, again, it’s clear that Epstein was widely understood to have had an enthusiastic affinity for attractive young women. Many of the gags and “atta boys” found in the Birthday Book do seem to make winking reference to that particular quality of his. Such affinity for female companionship wouldn’t necessarily constitute an earth-shattering revelation for a wealthy, jet-setting bachelor like Epstein, who could afford to avail himself of whatever luxuries he pleased. But it’s true that Epstein’s indulgences did often appear to verge on the extreme end of the hedonistic spectrum. Especially his bizarre, pathological obsession with receiving constant massages. At certain points, it could almost seem like Epstein’s entire life was organized around receiving nonstop messages, multiple times a day. Like the endless massaging was central to his personal ideology, or something. Whatever the intensity of his urges at any given time, it’s clear that these… proclivities came to be perceived as a standout feature of his reputation, and the Birthday Book correspondents, having been asked to supply a humorous birthday greeting, frequently do make “bawdy” reference to his lustful appetites.

However, things get unhinged (what else is new) when it comes to Donald Trump. As soon as the subpoenaed document production came in from the Epstein Estate, Democrats on the House Oversight Committee wasted no time giddily splashing Trump’s mythical sharpie doodle of a naked lady across social media. These Dems clearly saw no reason why anyone would want to review the full 238 page file, so it took the GOP majority to publish that shortly thereafter. (Democrats also promptly adopted their own version of “Q Anon” talking points, dubbing Republicans the “Pedophile Protection Party.”)

Once the fateful Trump Doodle became public for all to see, it was widely agreed that Trump must have not only drawn a picture of a naked woman — which would’ve been bad enough, according to the righteously indignant commentariat — but that he had knowingly drawn a picture of a prepubescent woman. Or, rather, a female child. And this, the high-flying leap of logic went, was supposed to tell us that Trump suddenly decided, as a 56-year-old celebrity real estate mogul, to send a coded message to his pal Jeffery Epstein hinting at their shared love of pedophilia. That, we’re told, is the “wonderful secret” Trump was talking about in his whimsical little note. Trump can be a wild character, sure — but to believe this theory, you’d have to believe that Trump completely lost his mind in January 2003, confessed to pedophilic sex crimes, and chose to memorialize this confession in a written document he was voluntarily putting in someone else’s possession. However wild Trump can get in various respects, does this really sound like something he would’ve realistically done? C’mon! He doesn’t even use email, because he doesn’t like the idea of having a “paper trail”!

Please note, for the record: I am not arguing that Trump’s Birthday Letter isn’t hilarious. I have personally announced my intent to compose a new Broadway musical entitled “Wonderful Secrets,” and I plan to make it extremely homoerotic. (If you have any suggestions for who can play the starring roles of Donald Trump and Jeffrey Epstein, please let me know.) I am also not denying, given the political radioactivity of anything even remotely to do with Epstein, that Trump would find the release of this 22-year-old letter to be irritating and/or embarrassing, whether or not it implicates him in any child-sex crimes. I also said from the outset that it was absurd for Trump to so boisterously deny the authenticity of the letter when the Wall Street Journal first reported its existence, even to the point of accusing the WSJ of fabricating it outright — and then filing a deranged lawsuit against the WSJ and Rupert Murdoch. (Trump can’t have been that mad about it, since he’s now touting Rupert Murdoch as one of the investors in the new American version of TikTok he’s supposedly facilitating the creation of.)

It’s not like anyone should be unaware by now that this is what Trump always does when the media reports things he doesn’t like: he calls it “Fake News,” screams it’s a hoax, etc. Yes, these time-worn tactics are bound to provoke an extra degree of suspicion when it comes to the “Epstein Files,” seeing as Trump undoubtedly does appear in what must be a sizable cross-section of such files. Pam Bondi, the Attorney General, is reported to have informed him of this directly. And because he filled his administration with “Loyalty First” bozos and dimwits, who are sure to screw stuff up, this whole resuscitated Epstein affair has predictably snowballed out of control. Leading to, among other things, the proliferation of feverish fantasies about what Trump-involved conduct “they” must be covering up, along with the supposition by Democrats that this is now their number one issue with which to go after Trump.

When Kash Patel testified before Congress this month, Democrats could hardly bring themselves to ask about anything other than Epstein. It was quite astonishing. I counted 134 total mentions of “Epstein” in the September 17 hearing of the House Judiciary Committee, and 42 mentions in the September 16 hearing of the Senate Judiciary Committee — with the mentions coming almost exclusively from Democrats, although a Republican did interject here and there, mostly to lend a helping hand to Kash. One exception was Thomas Massie, a Republican at war with Trump, who did ask some questions that were more accusatory, and reminiscent of the tack taken by Democrats. Still, the Epstein issue has reached levels of Democrat fixation that puts it roughly on par with “Russiagate” circa 2017. I distinctly remember doing a similar tally during Congressional hearings in 2017, and finding that Democrats were asking a similarly outsized proportion of questions about Robert Mueller and Russia as they now are about Epstein.

Even so, what makes this issue so uniquely salient and persistent is that it transcends typical partisan boundaries. Marjorie Taylor Greene now finds herself in the peculiar position of winning plaudits from erstwhile adversaries like the New York Times for her steadfast devotion to uncovering “Epstein Files.” On September 27, she redoubled her efforts, declaring: “The Epstein rape and pedophile network must be exposed.” But also, “Donald Trump did nothing wrong.”

Birthday Book readers seemed to disagree with Marge’s hasty exoneration. In addition to the naked lady doodle that will go down in infamy, there’s also this selection:

Plenty of commenters declared that this was more slam-dunk proof of Trump’s complicity in a child-sex trafficking enterprise. OK. If we’re supposed to believe that Trump really “sold” Epstein a girl or young woman for $22,500 — and did so with an oversized novelty check, on what appears to be a golf course — shouldn’t we be able to learn this allegedly enslaved female’s identity, so we can investigate the horrible crime? There’s clearly nothing sexually explicit about this photo, so it certainly wouldn’t rise to the level of anything like “child sexual exploitation material.” We can’t even tell if the female in the photo is an adult or a minor. But the arbitrary face/name redaction leaves everything to the imagination, leading to inevitable waves of rabid speculation.

An irony of this whole ordeal is that the people who clamor loudest for the release of “Epstein Files” seem completely unbothered that so much of the material now being released continues to be marred by elaborate, needless redactions. In a statement announcing the acquisition of the “Birthday Book,” Chairman James Comer said: “Oversight Committee Republicans are focused on running a thorough investigation to bring transparency and accountability for survivors of Epstein’s heinous crimes and the American people.” He also added, as is his duty, that “President Trump is not accused of any wrongdoing.” But if the idea is to finally bring forth this long-awaited “transparency,” why are entire sections of documents being blotted out for no good reason? To take just one example, from the “Girlfriends” section of the Birthday Book:

Whoever wrote this letter was evidently gushing with admiration and appreciation for Jeffrey Epstein. “I believe you are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met and can’t believe how lucky I am to have become a part of your life,” the correspondent writes. Are we now to believe that this person has been officially designated a “victim,” such that large swaths of her 2003 Birthday Book contribution must be shielded from public view forever? Does the fact that she appears to be a female, and appears to have included a photo of herself in a bikini, make her ipso facto a “victim” — 22 years after the fact? What is the criteria for “victimhood” being employed by the House Oversight Committee in their imposition of these redactions? (I asked this question to Committee staff, and haven’t received a response.) Did the woman eventually file a lawsuit, once the multi-million dollar settlement funds opened up — and now that’s supposed to override the lavish praise she once heaped on Jeffrey? It would be nice to know one way or another, but the claimed commitment to “transparency” by the House Oversight Committee, as well as others who say they’re on a mission to secure and release “Epstein Files,” clearly includes some big fat exceptions that manifestly thwart “transparency.”

If you claim to be in favor of full disclosure, but then also assume every government-plastered redaction must be legitimate, whatever you’re in favor of, it’s not full disclosure. Let’s remember: all purported Epstein “victims” would have to be full-fledged adults in 2025, with the youngest probably in their 30s. So there can be no claim that these redactions are about protecting the identity of anyone who is currently a child. And yet, even the Ro Khanna/Thomas Massie bill that has caused such a hubbub with its discharge petition drama contains sweeping transparency-exceptions, excluding from disclosure any records which may impinge on the identities of purported “victims.” (As well as exempting records which may jeopardize “national defense” and “foreign policy,” whatever the hell that means.)

The bill goes out of its way to mandate that “no record shall be withheld, delayed, or redacted on the basis of… embarrassment, reputational harm, or political sensitivity.” That’s all well and good, but why does any “embarrassment” or “reputational harm” that might be claimed by certain “victims” continue to serve as the basis for withholding, delaying, or redacting these records? Many of the self-identified victims are now tax-free multi-millionaires — and many were adults at the time of their claimed victimization. Many have already chosen to publicly disclose their identities. A blanket government secrecy authorization on behalf of such “victims” makes zero sense, except as a byproduct of the unexamined and contradictory zeal that now underpins the prevailing attitudes around this issue.

It also reflects how the politicians who have glommed onto the “Epstein Files” as their latest cause célèbre have decided to just mindlessly parrot the plaintiff’s attorneys whose careers and identities are wholly defined by their lucrative involvement with Epstein “victims.” First and foremost: Bradley Edwards, the “victim” lawyer who was allowed to effectively emcee the big Epstein Press Conference in front of the Capitol earlier this month, while the members of Congress on hand stood deferentially aside.

In an August 5, 2025 letter to federal judge Richard Berman, Bradley Edwards expressed passionate opposition to full transparency in relation to “Epstein Files.”

“Transparency cannot come at the expense of the very people whom the justice system is sworn to protect,” Edwards wrote, “particularly amid contemporaneous events that magnify risk and trauma.” Thus, he implored the Court to continue concealing any “material that could expose or help identify victims in any way.” Judge Berman said he found Edwards’ letter “very compelling,” and denied the DOJ’s motion to unseal Grand Jury materials. Such materials would comprise a very small portion of any outstanding “Epstein Files” regardless, but the same anti-transparency logic can, and has, been implored upon federal agencies (like DOJ and FBI) which do retain a large quantity of unreleased “Epstein Files.” So if Edwards gets his way — as he did with the “exceptions” inserted into the Khanna/Massie legislation — there will never be a comprehensive disclosure of “Epstein Files.” Womp womp.

While the issue of Grand Jury materials may carry different legal considerations than whatever materials might be obtained by the House Oversight Committee from private entities, or whatever materials might be in the possession of the FBI and DOJ, the general principle holds: if maximum deference is endlessly given to the alarmist and self-serving claims of purported “victims,” or more specifically their lawyers, we can expect to receive more pages like this one from the “Birthday Book” release… all in the name of “transparency,” you see…

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