Trigger Warning: lewd sexual descriptions
I transcribed the entire 238-page Epstein birthday book “The First 50 years” so that all the letters and handwriting is legible and easy to read, and also so that it can remain a record if the DOJ decides to pull it off the internet.
The Birthday Book contains photos, personal letters from family, friends, and colleagues, poems, drawings, a fake newspaper filled with articles, food, and personal ads, and some pretty damning evidence…
Feel free to share with family and friends, there is no paywall and this article can be accessed by anyone, on Substack or not.
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CHILDREN
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UNCEL F MAKS POPY
One day Uncel F decided to go popy. He had never seen popy in his life, even thou he is 50 he has never seen it. "Nararater: Why are you here? Said Uncel F. "Get on with the story. "O.K. So as I was saiing, he was going for the tolet
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as he plop he popped on the flor. So Uncel F ran to tell his mommy that he had popyd on the flor. "Mommy me popy on flor and me see popy for first time. No not the narater. Agin, why are you here said Uncel F because you only have 1 min and 2 sec left so hurry up with the story. OK. That’s to fast I guss so so to end the silly story he cleard the popy up.
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A new series of pictures
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FRIENDS
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Finally, at the home of our friend, let's call him Mr. Brown, Jeffrey unveiled his plan. To some it may have seemed a get-rich-quick scheme, but to me it was pure genius: Rob and Kill was the name of the plan. The first victim, [REDACTED] to be attacked and brutally plundered (would she want more than that?) on the boardwalk in Venice Beach. Broad daylight. The dastardly thieves were never caught.
Postscript: I retired from "the life", but I recently read an article in New York which led me to believe that my old friend Mr. E had continued on and become an industry leader.
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Jeffrey was such a nice man, a sweet, innocent type. One of my employees called him Mr. Epstein, the math teacher. Always ready to lend a hand, help a friend in need. He even volunteered to help out in surgery at UCLA, scrubbed, put on the gown, the whole bit, just to do his part.
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Then, things began to change. I think it was shortly after he encouraged Morgan to say "woof" on the phone to me that I noticed the beginning. And then, while his friends were willing to either go blissfully ahead, eyes closed, trusting in the Almighty, Jeffrey began to get that look in his eye. He was cooking up something, something either evil or at least deadly. I always hoped he wasn't spurred to action by my action--the unforgiveable, immortal sin of getting married.
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ON THE OCCASION OF JEFFREY EPSTEIN'S 50TH BIRTHDAY
A V.F.P.C.* is something to be
A V.F.P.C. is something to see
A liver, a lover, a Jeff, a Jeffrey
Let's all give a cheer, for today he's fifty!
Five decades, L, or half century
By birds and by bucks, C's and M's are his key
Blonde, red or brunette, spread out geographically
With this net of fish, Jeff's now 'The Old Man and The Sea"
Teaching math, trading options or foreign currency
Green eyeshades, schemes and plans, a unique tax strategy
Wet dream and cauchemar, an architect's wild spree
Moscow, Paris, Santa Fe, Alhambra East jamboree
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Maxwellian delight, a mother's treasure, great joy most surely
Harvardian patron, brain researcher, for extending wannabe
Outrageous, iconoclastic, unconventional, spirit free
Best of all, a Dear Friend, Happy Birthday Jeffrey!
Love and Kisses
Leon [Black]
*Vanity Fair Poster Child
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BIRTHDAY GREETINGS TO DEGENERATE ONE
From Eaton Square to Barton Way, from St. Moritz to Palm Beach and Manhattan is it a mere 2 decades in Earth time (so many girls, so little time)? And you (there) Jeffrey always (grinning) like the mysterious mischievous lad you are--I remember it all with a smile. Though with a melancholy smile to think you are only at mid century, a mere boy, though we (rampies) are supposed to age slowly (if at all). So there will be decades more of my screaming commodity orders on phones while the other passengers say SSH!, and you never failing to astonish me. I'll look out the window and you'll be shooting past on a rocket with a Cheshire Cat grin. Keep it up Jeffrey.
With great affection, Degenerate II (AKA Coco Brown)
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Keep going young man
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Keep going young man
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I wish you every new day happier than every old happy days
Your friend, Jean Luc [Brunel]
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Jeffrey —
Happy 50th—It's reassuring isn't it, to have lasted as long, across all the years of learning and knowing, adventures and errors, and also to have your childlike curiosity, the drive to make a difference and the solace of friends.
Bill Clinton
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ALAN M. DERSHOWITZ
1575 MASSACHUSETTS AVENUE
CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS, 02138
December 11, 2002
Dear Jeffrey,
As a birthday gift to you, I managed to obtain an early version of the Vanity Unfair article. I talked them into changing the focus from you to Bill Clinton, as you will see in the enclosed excerpt. Happy Birthday and best regards.
Alan
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WHO WAS THAT MAN WITH EPSTEIN?
Enquiring minds are asking, "Who was that man with Epstein?" Jeffrey Epstein is, of course, one of the world's most famous men, a household name throughout the planet. His picture has appeared on the cover of every magazine in the world. Everyone knows his story--from his humble roots on Coney Island to his rise as one of the most envied public figures of the western world. But what was he doing flying to Africa with an obscure former politician from Hope, Arkansas? Who is that politician and why would Epstein have picked him for the coveted seat on his private jet. [sic] Vanity Unfair was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery man and to reveal the story behind the story. Normally we would not pry into the private life of an obscure Arkansas politician, particularly one who has tried so hard, and up to now so successfully, to keep his private life to himself. But the moment this obscure man stepped onto the Epstein jet, he became fair game for probing enquiry. Why would a man like Epstein, who can pick and choose his companions from princes to professors, select a flying companion from the Ozark Mountains? To be sure, he was a Rhodes Scholar, but we all know how easy it is to get a Rhodes if you're from Arkansas. There must be something else. Vanity Unfair decided to snoop around. The obscure politician reluctantly agreed to an interview, on the express condition that it was completely off the record. This is what he told us...
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It's no secret that Jeffrey appreciates beautiful women. But not many people know that he can create them out of thin air--at least he did in Iowa in 1988.
At the time, I was managing the money of the Zimmerman family, and they lived in Fairfield Iowa, a town of less than 10,000 people between Ottumwa and Burlington. Hog farming is a serious industry here, and many feel there is more than a little truth to saying that its [sic] hard to tell the difference between the girls and the hogs in Southwest Iowa.
I had invited Jeffrey to come to Fairfield to see our investment operations, meet the Zimmerman family, and learn more about their major charitable projects. He asked about the nightlife and we could only laugh as we dropped him off at the local motel. The next morning a group of 4 of us picked up Jeffrey to give him a tour of the area. At our first stop we parked in front of a bookstore. As we were getting out of the car, a spectacular tall blonde woman suddenly came out of the store, walked directly past us and up to Jeffrey and announced, "I am new to this area, what's going on?". It turned out she was a sales representative for a firm selling academic branded athletic clothing, and she was literally driving through Iowa visiting local campuses. Jeffrey invited her to join us, and did his magic. Within a few hours, he had invited her to return to New York with him for the weekend.
The guys in the car (were) astonished to even see such an attractive lady in Fairfield, amazed that she passed over them to meet Jeff, and were speechless when she agreed to come to New York. I'll admit to wondering at the time whether Jeffrey somehow arranged the whole episode through some long distance escort service. But the following week I happened to be in Manhattan and Jeffrey asked me to give her a ride back in our company plane, giving me a chance to speak with her for a few hours. She was the real McCoy.
Happy Birthday Jeff!
Best wishes, Bill Elkus
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I asked my house astrologer what to make of you and she gave me some incomprehensible charts and some very comprehensible words
The analysis: A fiercely intelligent, highly complex individual for whom the accumulation of great wealth is no problem. Prefers working in private, or better yet, utter secrecy. Emotionally complicated: Can run hot and cold, can lose interest in the blink of an eye, professes to be “available” but much goes on behind the scenes and he decides what he gives.
Extensive scientific/humanitarian/philanthropic strength and cointerest, which if harnessed and developed properly could have a significant impact (as in tangibly changing the world for the better) and as an added bonus, beat the current masters at their own game.
I liked the part that suggested that you didn't know how much you liked how distant you are. I have told you before that our friendship, which I greatly enjoy and from which I have learned more than I expected to at this time of my life, had to have some additional goal for you.
I have always assumed that you would one day want to talk about distance and aloneness and their benefits and dissatisfactions with someone who has many of the same [illegible) ideas.
I'm ready when you are.
Henry [Jarecki]
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You very dear boy,
Going back into the past as I have over the last few days has in some ways prooved [sic] a melancholy experience all the old criminals suddenly came leaping out at me Mac, Ogilvy, Swire, Baring, Alfonse, the Brigadier, the old man and all the good times that we had together. One of the sad things in life is that fate conspires to move people apart to the extent that I hardly see you any more [sic] but, I suppose that is why we are compensated by memories
I was speaking to BB last night before writing this e-mail and we both agreed that we were at a loss to decide which of the hundreds of hilarious incidents to pinpoint for you, there are just too many. Inspecting the Royal School girls dorms, chasing rabbits with Toto in the old mans dino, trying to get [REDACTED] husband out of the way in Manila, blocking Ogilvies loo with the illegal goose at Barings [sic] wedding, doing three point turns in the tunnel in HK when we asked the Mandarin driver to find us some girls, dancing the night away in the Tin Mine in KL, massage classes at Wraxall....and so on and so on it brings tears to my eyes.
However, there was one evening which I recall always had you howling with laughter. We were in Harry's Bar in London you, me, the old man, Toto, [REDACTED], and the usual extraordinary group of camp followers Lord Long, Ian Cruikshank, etc etc. Somehow Toto got it into his head that [REDACTED] was a call girl that doggie had fixed up for him. After dinner we all went off to Tramps and Toto and doggie got into the back of doggies [sic] car with [REDACTED] sitting between them. Toto grinning happily at the old man reached down and pulled [REDACTED] skirt up to her panties and put his hand on her pussy. The old man smiling sweetly leaned over stuffed his hand into her pants so that Toto found his fingers playing with doggies [sic]. Suddenly the awful truth sunk in but Toto was too shocked to remove his hand so they drove to Tramps with both of them still trapped in [REDACTED] knickers.
All my love and a very very happy birthday with many more years to come in the future than there are years behind you.
Nick [Leese]
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Once upon a time, an intelligent, sharp-witted man they call "mysterious" parachuted into my life…
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You would spend many hours just waiting for him to turn up
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And often, no sooner were you getting used to having him around, you would suddenly be alone....again
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Leaving you with some "interesting" friends to entertain instead....
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Or just some dogs to keep you company (he wasn't always so keen on them)
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But then he would parachute back in...
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Very occasionally, taking you by surprise in some far off places
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Or in one of his glorious homes he liked to share with his friends (yum yum)
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But, wherever he is in the world, he remains my best pal!
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Happy Birthday, Jeffrey
We love you!!
[Peter Mandelson]
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January 2003
Dear Jeffrey,
The beginning of a new year in an appropriate time to count our blessings.
Among mine is your friendship. It's been more than a decade since we met by chance at an airport in Washington. During that time you've been a good friend. I'm grateful for that and for what I hope will be many more years of your friendship.
Among your blessing for [illegible] the opportunity to lead a full, exciting, and fantastically varied life. Now that you've reached a critical milestone, I hope you will intensify your activities in the widest possible range of issues, especially in the field of science where you've already done so much.
With my congratulations, gratitude, and best wishes,
George Mitchell
P.S. As you know, Heather shares your birthday, confirming my belief that a lot of great people were born on January 20!
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Jeffrey,
I have agonized long and hard about what to write for your birthday. One version was a highly philosophical take on personal perception. I'll spare you the tortured prose but the gist was that the way we see the world depends on our experiences--how we parse things. You're one of the few people who has influenced how I parse and understand the world, and that version lauded you for it. But, that seemed to [sic] heavy and pedantic, so out it went...
Another version was silly and salacious, since your approach to life has so much of each of these things. A few years ago somebody at a party asked me, "Does Jeffrey Epstein manage your money?". I replied "No, but he advises me on lifestyle". The guys [sic] eyes bugged out of his head and he said "REALLY?". Alas I am ill prepared to comment on your lifestyle in any detail since I am (sadly) so far behind that it would be talking about things I know little of!
Yet another approach was to comment on our shard [sic] interests in science and exploration, but again it seemed lacking.
So in the end I have wound up with this silly excuse for a missive--neither profound nor funny. But, I have included a few photos that I took on my recent trip to Africa. They seemed more appropriate than anything I could put in words.
Nathan [Myhrvold]
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To be continued in Part 4
Part 1
Part 2
Part 4
Part 5
Ellie is an author, editor, and owner of Red Pencil Transcripts, and works with filmmakers, podcasts, and journalists all over the world. She lives with her family just outside of New York City.
Is this is ugly stuff you’ve performed a real mitzvah for us in going in there and pulling it all into view.
Gee Ellie …. these people all seem to be morons. Or incredibly lazy. Most of us can come up with something more creative writing the 47th Christmas card of the day, purely out of guilt, to an Aunt we can’t remember ever meeting.
If my friends were going to write me poems for my birthday I probably wouldn’t mind so much a bit of clever sexual innuendo, something a bit ambiguous … but I would expect some sense of rhythm. Some semblance of style. Some hint that effort had been made.
Suddenly Mad King Donnie’s effort looks like an inspired work of art.
How the fuck do dunces like this find themselves in positions of power?
I did tell you that some of this stuff reminds me of how I might have expressed myself as a 16 year old, but I now wish to retract that confession. I may have been something like that as a 12 year old.
On a bad day.