
The Wall Street Journal’s hit piece was headlined, “
Exclusive - Jeffrey Epstein’s Friends Sent Him Bawdy Letters for a 50th Birthday Album. One Was From Donald Trump.” Allegedly, the letter was included in a leather-bound scrapbook of birthday wishes that Ghislaine Maxwell collected for Epstein in 2003.
To say the letter was ‘thinly sourced’ is like saying the Titanic had a slight moisture problem.
First, the Journal has neither the Birthday Scrapbook nor the letter. It said it “reviewed” the letter. When? Where? How? Was it just read to them over the phone? What does “reviewed” even mean? For sure, it means
they don’t have it. The Journal described the letter as being “among documents examined by Justice Department officials” —
what officials?— “according to
people who have reviewed the pages.” People? The Village People?
Psychics?
“I’m sensing the letter was typed… I’m seeing small arcs… there’s… a signature? Yes! It’s forming… it’s… Donald!”
In other words: the whole Scrapbook story is
double anonymous hearsay. Some unnamed “people” said some unidentified “officials” reviewed the birthday binder and the original letter. Even
bad lawyers wouldn’t consider trying to admit that in court. “Um, your Honor, someone told us that some government officials
may have seen a letter, which someone else described to us… and we’d like to enter that into evidence.” Okay.
Next, the Journal’s future defendants admitted they know nothing about the letter’s provenance. “It isn’t clear,” the Journal admitted, “how the letter with Trump’s signature was prepared.” Great. And there’s no chain of custody. Nobody’s
ever even heard of this Birthday Scrapbook before. “The existence of the album and the contents of the birthday letters,” the Journal conceded, “haven’t previously been reported.”
No leaks, no mention in any of the court cases, nothing,
in over twenty years.
It’s just too much. Biden’s DOJ raided Mar-a-Lago for newspaper clippings, indicted Trump four separate times, subpoenaed everyone but Barron, surveilled campaign officials, and criminalized memes. They even leaked photos from the Mar-a-Lago raid. But we’re supposed to believe Democrats sat on a perfectly gift-wrapped, visually grotesque, plausibly deniable Trump–Epstein letter since 2019
or earlier— and just … what?
Forgot to use it? Even during impeachment one and two?
They leaked
this, but not the Birthday Scrapbook?
Notwithstanding all those problems, the Journal glowingly
described the “bawdy” letter. It waited till about three pages in, and then set out a very non-Trumpian, odd, quippy
typed (not handwritten) fake dialogue between Trump and Epstein that sounds just like
a scripted confession. “Donald: We have certain things in common, Jeffrey,” the letter gushed. “Jeffrey: Yes, we do, come to think of it.”
To make sure we got the message, the carefully scripted, incriminating-sounding typed dialogue was allegedly placed inside a hand-drawn cartoon of a naked woman, with “breasts denoted by small arcs” (
small breasts?
pre-pubescent ones?) above “Donald,” scrawled as a signature in the sketch’s pubic region.
Get this— despite the obvious, explosive, salacious potential, the Journal did not publish a picture of the actual letter. It did not even explain the letter’s absence. Why not show the letter? Is it sealed? Confidential? Restricted? If so, why not just say that? Or is it possible the Journal never actually saw the letter but just “reviewed” an oral description?
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the Journal did not mention any forensic analysis. The convenient fact the incredibly suspicious ‘dialogue’ was typed eliminates handwriting analysis of that part, but what about the signature? The drawing? You’d think they’d have cited six forensic handwriting analyses before going to print with something like this.
Only the original letter with the wet ink signature could be subjected to forensic analysis. Anything else could be copy-pasta. Stroke direction, pen pressure, ink composition, paper age and source— none of these things can be analyzed from a PDF or cell phone snap.
In other words, it’s thinner than Shell station toilet paper. It’s so thin, if you held it up to the light, you’d see the ghost of J. Edgar Hoover shaking his head. So, the alleged letter is a stinking pile of hot garbage, and Trump is about to get another fat settlement to fund the “Golden Defamation Wing” of his presidential library.
C&C Special Edition: Trump cracks the Epstein vault; Bondi moves to unseal grand jury files; Dems panic as trap backfires; media chaos begins; Disclosure Phase 1 is live—expect flares and fangs.
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