Tottering to Ferragosto

Long talk ystdy with Phil. He'll be 55 tomorrow.  No trifling with Life at that age. Sounds happy, prospering, being showered with emoluments by the German Reich, as properly he deserves; is buying (has bought) himself an Oregon myrtlewood guitar for 1,800 Euros. Bless him. We're having  a wonderful laugh over the Epstein horror,  making daisy-chains with Alan Dershowitz, Prince Andrew and Steven Pinker, shouting over the landline, "Anybody who'd have sex with Bill Clinton is a pig!" And I did mention that I felt that Pinker, the man and the philosopher, missed what Chomsky was talking about in the unbelievably rapid language-acquisition of children (and that there are, therefore, in Pinker's precious "Evolutionary Psychology," gaps, holes and lacunae which neither objective right reason nor bias in his [Pinker's] favor can bridge or patch over). To speak with reckless imagism.

The fact is, in the Epstein Affair we see the utter bottom-feeding vulgarity of the class which owns and is consuming us: They are pimps. Pimps to themselves and to one another. The lowness of their taste is only exceeded by the sniggering indecency of their manners.