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Since most of us are intuitively familiar with only one definition of rape, let’s not forget the type of rape that always falls by the wayside: in late 2022 the Epstein estate was forced to pay half a million USD in damages coming from the Gaza-style assault that Jeffrey Epstein launched on the natural ecosystems of Great St James and Little St James islands (the latter eventually nicknamed Epstein island). The buildings, terraces, roads, docks, and other infrastructure that violated every coastal and environmental law in the book, were constructed in full knowledge of the authorities who, as it happens time and time again in these cases, pretended from time to time to try and stop him. The financial penalty imposed was peanuts of course for the billionaire, who had probably already factored this cost into one, big, cumulative building, bribing, and eco-destruction budget. (This probably does not include impromptu regular infusions of additional “hush” money here and there).
I grew up in Greece, the country of a thousand Epstein islands, and I know a thing or two about how easy it is to build on protected habitat: as long as there is money and corrupt authorities, you can dynamite the shit out of an island, in broad daylight if you like, and build your luxury villa and matching helipad. While our society ponders the terrifying implications of the fact that billionaires get away with pedophilia so easy that they don’t think twice about committing it, the entirety of humanity has in the meanwhile been getting away with something much worse: extinction. No offense to the Epstein victims.
As soon as he bought the island in 1998, Epstein raped most of the native vegetation in order to build the rape palace of his dreams that became the infamous orgy hotspot for technobroligarchs, European royalty, and the international elite that shared their STDs with underaged victims forced into prostitution. One of the environmental fines Epstein had to pay was for the demolition of old historic slave-era buildings on Great St James Island. To be completely fair though, he did replace those buildings with modern brothels that housed sex slaves, so in a way he had exchanged like-for-like: human history has a frightening punctuality of repeating itself, whether we are talking about war, slavery, or environmental crime. As long as there are billionaires to work for, there will always be an exploited underclass. And as long as power becomes concentrated, there will be pedo islands scattered across an ocean of corruption.
Behind every billionaire venture there has always been a long trail of human and non-human victims, and behind every human orgy there will always be an environmental crime - that is, if you dare to look under the covers. The two islands Epstein bought belong to the US Virgin Islands, another very unfortunate word pun in our situation here. They are home to many endangered species including three types of sea turtle (Hawksbill, Green, Leatherback), the Virgin Islands Boa, the St. Croix Lizard, and various endangered species of plants some of which are extremely vulnerable and even endemic (unique to the area or even to a single island). I’ve included some photos of these incredible beings at the end of this article. They are only examples from an entire ecosystem that includes forest, coastline, and coral reef.
Among all natural predators, and even before sea level rise could decimate the endangered species of the flora and fauna of Little St James, in the end it was the pedophiles who managed to get to them first. The names of these victims were not redacted, because they were never even acknowledged in the first place. But they were born here, lived here, and thrived here long before pedo island took their life away.
“My procreation is your extinction” is the type of absurd logic humans continue to pursue on Earth. But our turn is coming. The nasty comedown headache from this capitalist orgy is beginning to set in just as the party drugs run out. Meanwhile, the music is becoming violently loud. One way or another, we will have to face it.
“To call 10 million other species The Environment as if it’s a piece of space we walk into, is the most ignorant word. It is like walking into a room full of people, and only acknowledging the chairs”
(from my book IN THE GRIP OF NECROCAPITALISM)
Another win for humanity:
"They found the coats on Thursday morning. Fifteen winter coats. Good ones, not garbage. Hanging on the chain-link fence outside Lincoln Elementary. No note. No explanation. Just coats, zipped up like ghosts waiting for bodies. Principal Morris freaked out. Called the police. "Could be stolen," she said. "Could be some kind of prank."
But then Kayla Martinez, eight years old, said her mom worked nights cleaning offices and couldn't afford a winter coat this year. She'd been wearing three hoodies layered up. She touched a purple one on the fence, the right size, and whispered, "Can I?" Mrs. Alvarez, the PE teacher, said yes before anyone could stop her. By lunch, all fifteen coats were gone. Fifteen kids who'd been shivering through recess were warm. The next Thursday? Twenty coats. Different fence, same neighborhood, outside the community center. Then thirty coats appeared at the downtown shelter. Then blankets. Then winter boots. No cameras ever caught who did it. No social media claims. Just... coats. Every Thursday. All winter long.
The news picked it up. Called them "The Fence Angel." Interviewed grateful families. But nobody knew.
Until March.
Old man died, Earl Hutchins, seventy-one, lived alone in a basement apartment on Fourth Street. When they cleaned out his place, they found receipts. Thrift store receipts. Hundreds of them. He'd been buying every decent winter coat he could find, spending his entire disability check, and hanging them up at night.
His nephew found a journal entry, "Lost my son to exposure in 2004. He was homeless, prideful, wouldn't take handouts. Froze to death behind a dumpster wearing a T-shirt. If I put coats on a fence, nobody has to ask. Nobody has to admit they need help. They just take it. Dignity intact."
I'm Kayla Martinez. I'm sixteen now. That purple coat got me through fourth grade. I never knew Earl. Never got to say thank you.
But last November, I took my babysitting money to Goodwill. Bought six coats. Hung them on that same fence.
My friends saw. They bought coats. Then their parents did. Then the high school started a coat drive, not for a bin, for the fence.
Last Thursday, there were 200 coats. Scarves too. Gloves. We call it "Earl's Fence" now. There's one in Detroit. One in Manchester. One in Vancouver.
I never met the man who saved me from freezing. But I'm becoming him, one coat at a time.
Because the best kind of help doesn't ask for credit. It just hangs there, quiet, waiting for cold hands to find warmth."
Let this story reach more hearts. 💜
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