Could be journalist Michael Wolff, if I had to make a guess. But I truly have no clue.
I saw him do an interview about what it was like being at Epstein’s house and he mentioned the stuffed elephant. This story mentions the elephant also. (Reason Epstein had it and liked it was creepy so that stuck out to me) Hardly dots to connect though.
I found this email extraordinarily interesting. I would love to know who wrote it. It’s honestly such an ass-kiss piece it wouldn’t surprise me if Epstein wrote it himself.
I’m going to add some, but not all. If you want to read the entire thing:
https://jmail.world/thread/HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_023627
>Once I arrived for a visit and found several police cars blocking the street and thought the worst—they'd come for him. But it was a massive security detail for a well known head of state who had come for tea.
>We met several years before he became arguably the world's most notorious sex offender. In 2002, his plane, a meticulously appointed 727, ferried a group of people to the TED conference in Monterey. He was the mysterious and peculiarly gracious host arriving after everyone had boarded: tanned, relaxed, attentive, soliciting every guest's story and views, and accompanied by three young women not his daughters, witty, poised, helpful, and beautiful—out of a men's magazine fantasy of the luxe life.
>Google founders, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, with their company rising into the stratosphere, came out to see his plane on the Monterey tarmac and, with a few other Googlers, literally ran whooping from one end of the plane to the other. Then, sitting in the plane's plush living room, they described, in what I could not be sure was a put-on or entrepreneurial brainstorm, the future of search.
>Since that trip, and through his travails, I have often been invited to his house to participate in the conversations of the newest ideas that often take place there.
>Pictures on the table have Jeffrey and prime minister, princes, leading scientists. with fidel castro next to the photo with pope, I guess his attempt at levity.
>These meetings, and this lifestyle, have somehow stayed private or secret—or apart—not out of any formal or stated restrictions, but because, in some sense, it would be very hard to explain just what you're doing there with a well known sex offender in a mouth dropping home flaunting all moderation.
>And yet, defying controversy, and tolerating his societal tone deafness—or shy attitude toward the zeitgeist—still so many come. Gladly. Willingly. Feeling that his invitation is frankly quite an extraordinary privilege.
>As part of a many friends encouraged effort to get "out in front" of the notice that might be expected when it was revealed the number and wide diversity of the most rarified thinkers of our generation that come to visit Epstein agreed to a limited on-the-record conversation with me.
>He recounts a dinner he had two nights before. The scene is, like much of what he does, a conspiracy theorist's fantasy—the six men at this dinner, all technology entrepreneurs, representing, together, over a hundred billion dollars and now trying to figure out how to use their resources in order to help shape the world.
>Missions to Mars, age reversal. understanding the big bang, teleportation, Artificial Intelligence and Synthetic Biology are this weeks topics.
>Epstein's role in this discussion of the private allotment of what is in fact a decent fraction of the U.S. Gross Domestic Product is not only as an experienced philanthropist himself but as a sort of adviser or brain—the "rich whisperer"—making him, in addition to his own vast wealth ( two private islands, one for guests ), arguably among the most influential people you've only heard of for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with his influence.
**hi hey it’s me, OP. Need to chime in. “THE RICH WHISPERER” that’s quite a title. And two islands, not just one? Am I the only person who didn’t know there were two?**
>In fact, the life in the house, without wife or children or conventional domestic demeanor, rather conforms to the scripted fantasies: somewhere between Daddy Warbucks and Eyes Wide Shut. There is indeed a group of young women—in their twenties and thirties—who act as Epstein's support staff and companions. Some have worked for him for many years, marrying, having children, and continuing as part of his business and household infrastructure. One woman, on an afternoon when I was there, had just returned from an around-the-world honeymoon that Epstein had arranged for her. Some are, or may have been, his romantic interests. One former girlfriend, Eva Andersson Dubin, a Swedish model and Miss Universe finalist whom Epstein has known for more than thirty years, became one of new yorks top doctors—Epstein helped finance her medical school education —She married hedge funder Glen Dubin. Together they financed the Dubin Breast Center at Mount Sinai Hospital.
>Epstein will sometimes move a meeting in his dining room outside to Central park—his idea of going out to lunch is a Sabrett's hot dog—with the various young women in the house acting as the accompanying entourage, as though something out of an 18th-century French court.
>But the Hefnerian like attitude can also at the flash turn to sharply honed financial discussion. The highly poised young women in a mansion on the Upper East Side with various office responsibilities remind me of the various uptown art galleries in the surrounding neighborhood. They mingle freely with his hyper powerful guests, not so much as hostesses—or, in tabloid language, harem-like “sex slaves” but as attentive colleagues (which, of course, might be regarded by some as having its own fetish-like attraction).
>The Epstein house/office is, by careful design, exclusive and clubby, part hang out, part secret society. Along with the fact that, even after his jail term, the rich and powerful have continued to so eagerly solicit him, it's also notable in the fixed hierarchy of who comes to whose turf, that, when they want to see Epstein, they tend to come to him. He's created a world and you enter it. Many arrive in weekend clothes. or as one world leader said, Ah here i can come in sweat clothes.
>In effect: the outside world comes to Epstein's and he eagerly solicits reports. It's a real time newspaper, or the news you don't read in a newspaper, market movements before they occur, geopolitics with the ultimate decision makers at the table, the health and personal eccentricities of some world leaders, discussions in hushed tones of the next high level government appointments soon to be announced.
>It's Sunday lunch—in his schedule from a week last fall—with Gates, Mort Zuckerman, the real estate billionaire and owner of the Daily News, and Peter Thiel, the PayPal co-founder and early Facebook investor. That evening its Sheikh Hamad Bin Jassim, the foreign minister of Qatar. Hamad lives across the street in a similarly furnished house—he and Epstein have the same decorator.
>Next morning, Epstein is joined for breakfast in the dining room by the lawyer Reid Weingarten, who's represented, among other fat cats in trouble, Worldcom's Bernie Ebbers and Goldman Sachs's Lloyd Blankfein. Weingarten, hoarse with a cold, is still lamenting his failed defense of former Connecticut Governor John Rowland. ( later to be overturned on appeal ) After a blow-by-blow of the trial, they discuss the Qatarian's visit—Epstein served chocolate made with specialy chosen pistachios grown on the Sheikh's farm—and speculate about who actually controls ISIS, with Weingarten arguing that the Turks are not getting enough scrutiny. Weingarten represents Gulen, the U.S. target of the Turks, There is, in Epstein's dining room, always an alternative version of world events.
>Why,” I ask Weingarten, when Epstein briefly steps out of the room, “do so many people keep coming back here, everything considered."
>”Why we camp out here? I guess because there's truly no other place like it."
>Epstein summons in the next person cooling his heels in the ante-room. It's a young man named Brock Pierce, an active investor" in Bitcoin and the programmable currency space.
>After a bit, Epstein invites his next appointment to join them: Larry Summers, the former treasury secretary and President of Harvard, off Diet Coke, digs deep into the Sheikh Hamad chocolates, then focuses in on the Bitcoin investor.
>That evening, in the Epstein dining room (he seems rarely to use the rest of the house's 50,000 square feet), there is a small cocktail party, which includes the former Prime Minister of Australian, Kevin Rudd, and Thorbjørn Jagland, the head of the Nobel Peace Prize Committee, who offers an affable, but generally scathing, critique of U.S. diplomacy (and a brief defense of Obama's Peace Prize award) and to whom Epstein offers a ride back to Europe on his jet.
>The next morning, it's Ehud Barack, the former Israeli Prime Minister, for breakfast. Barack is, over his omelet, able to defend both Obama and Putin. Then a high ranking official from the Obama White House, whose name I am asked not to use. There follows the former head of the UN Security Council, Hardeep Purie, and then head of the central bank of Kazakhstan, Kairat Kelimbetov. Then Nathan Myhrvold the former chief technology office at Microsoft. Then Martin Nowak, a Professor of Biology and Mathematics and Director of the Program for Evolutionary Dynamics at Harvard, the institute that Epstein has funded with $30 million. Part of Nowak's research has to do with trying to “describe cancer mathematically." (Epstein preempts Nowak's explanation: "Think of cancer the same way as you think of a terrorist group. The NSA has been able to thwart a great number of terrorism acts by intercepting communication signals from one terrorist to another. That same dynamic, a form of signal intelligence, of finding a terrorist in Europe, can be used to intercept communication between cancer sells. Cancer cells merely communicate in protean code rather than electronic code. If you can decode what the signals are saying you can jam those signal between terrorist calls—essentially wipe out their cell phones. Likewise if you can decode biological signals you can jam them too, that's the holy grail.")
>Then Richard Axel, a Nobel prize winner in physiology. Then Ron Baron who has $26 billion under management in his Baron Fund. Then Josh Harris, the co-founder of Apollo Global Management ($164 billion under management) and owner of the New Jersey Devils and the Philadelphia 76ers.
>The question is why, in the face of such public flogging , with the paparazzi so near, do the high and might still come?
>What goes on at Epstein's house might seem just to confirm everyone's worst fears about power and the powerful: it's all insider stuff. But the conversations at Epstein's are the conversations, I suspect, that rich men dream of, but in the real world, such a buttoned-down and agenda-driven place, are actually hard to have.
>there is a stuffed baby elephant in his living room—that is, the elephant in the room. (Epstein says too it's a reminder that elephants have 23 copies of cancer tumor suppressor genes and humans have only.
>Epstein often tells his middle class to riches tale: born in 1953 in Coney Island, father worked for the city's Parks Department, mother a housewife.
>The captain of the math team at Lafayette High school in Bensonhurst, he went on to Cooper Union where the tuition is free. He dropped out after two years. Without a college degree, an unsolved mystery, he got a job teaching math and physics at Dalton in 1974.
>Punch Sulzberger, the publisher of the New York Times, and a Dalton father at the time, tried to recruit Epstein to come to the Times.
>He soon became the protégée of Jimmy Cayne (also hired by Ace Greenberg on a whim—he met him in a bridge game), who would go on to run Bear and to lose his fortune in Bear's 2006 collapse). Epstein's leave-taking or ouster from Bear was the result of politics, envy, overreaching, or a securities violation, or...unclear. But, no matter, when he left in 1982 he took with him billionaire clients, including Marvin Davis, a real estate developer who owns Twentieth Century Fox, and Herb Seigel, a major media investor in the 1980s. At this point, Epstein was dating Morgan Fairchild, a television star in the new mega-rich-family soap operas, Dallas and Falcon Crest.
>Thirty-year-old Epstein was living a Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous (he befriended the show's star, Robin Leach), at English shooting parties and country estates with Saturday night black tie dinners, where he was meeting the over-the-top families of Europe.
>For a period, one part of his activities, he says, was recovering looted monies. Then, in his telling, he was representing a series of vastly wealthy people and families—helping them to navigate the ambitions of their wealth.
>In 1994, just at the moment when Prince Charles was on television acknowledging his love for Camilla Parker Bowles, Jeffrey Epstein was sitting with his arm around Princess Diana at a dinner at the Serpentine Galley in London (Diana wearing her “revenge” dress that evening). Graydon Carter, in his second year as editor of Vanity Fair, was also at the dinner.
>He joined the board of Rockefeller University. And then he was suddenly on the Trilateral commission, that cabal of business people who are fancied by some conspiracy buffs, as the group running the world. He bought, from his client Limited Founder Les Wexner, the largest private house in Manhattan. He bought an airplane. Then another. He expanded his holdings in New Mexico. He began a Xanadu-like refurbishment of his Caribbean Island and then bought the neighboring island for guests.
>He befriended Bill Clinton in his new after-office life—and that would prove to be quite the fatal pairing.
>In the last days of my interviews with Epstein, he was called by a particular world-stage individual, among the richest and most powerful—proudly louche himself—who, feeling out of his depth in a world of crashing oil prices and wild currency fluctuation, had come to believe he might benefit from some private tutoring. Epstein welcomed him to the club.
