The Epstein Class vs. Everyone Else

Different scandals, same system.

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I’ve now watched every video of the members of Congress who had the chance to review the allegedly “unredacted” Epstein files last night. And almost every single one of them looked visibly shaken by what they saw. I especially want to shout out Congressman Khanna and Congressman Massie for continuing to push for the truth—alongside others from both parties.

The more I hear about the sheer horror of what the Trump administration is covering up—from Trump lying about his relationship with Epstein, to a nine-year-old victim in the files who may never see justice, to guys like Howard Lutnick (Trump’s Commerce Secretary) who’ve been lying for years about their connections, to the still-unknown co-conspirators—the more I feel this overwhelming swell of rage and grief.

There’s not even a word for how I felt this morning, dropping my kid off at school, just fuming. Fuming at how this country has failed to deliver justice for predators who abused children. And yeah, maybe I’ve said some of this before—but that’s because this shit is just that depressing.

Here’s the realization that’s been crystallizing for me: all these scandals we’re living through—this economic crisis crushing working people, Tulsi Gabbard’s weird election meddling play, Trump’s never-ending stream of corruption and pardons, and the Epstein saga—it’s all the same scandal. It’s the same story.

It’s the Epstein class and their defenders—the wealthy, powerful, well-connected elite who protect each other no matter what crimes they commit. The ones who abuse children with impunity, loot the working class, and oversee the largest wealth transfer in American history. And when those crimes start to surface, they flood the zone with manufactured chaos and scandal to exhaust us, distract us, and make accountability feel impossible—knowing that if they’re ever caught, a pardon is waiting from Donald Trump. As precedent has made clear.

These are the people who want us at each other’s throats. They tell me I’m supposed to hate you because you voted for someone I despise. They tell you to hate me too. They want us to cut off our families, to abandon our friends over politics—so we’re too divided to see the real crimes happening right in front of our faces.

And it is right in front of our faces. Blatant. Brazen. Maddening.

So let me be real: as frustrated as I get with folks who voted for Trump in 2024—including people in my own family—I don’t hate them. I don’t hate them. I’m done fighting yesterday’s wars.

Because at this point, there are only two classes in America: the Epstein class and its enablers—and everybody else. And if you want to be part of “everybody else,” and you’re serious about fixing this mess? You’re my brother. You’re my sister. The strongest form of resistance is solidarity, listening long enough to be heard in return.

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I’m a proud Democrat, but I’m not blind. There’s rot in my party too. There are people in those files who wear the same label I do—and they deserve exactly the same level of accountability.

So no, I don’t get rattled when I go on conservative media and they start shouting about Bill Clinton being in the files. Of course he’s in the files. And he should be held accountable. If he committed crimes, he should be prosecuted. Fully. I want him and Hillary Clinton to testify publicly. Let’s go. The sooner the better.

But this isn’t about Clinton. Or Trump. It’s not about left or right. Every single name in those files should be dragged into the light. We can go back to yelling about partisan bullshit after we take care of this.

Because there is some real, serious shit going down in this country.

And part of the reason Trump’s approval rating is tanking—even in his strongest base among non-college voters—is because people are exhausted. Furious. Fed up. Everyone’s getting wrecked by this economy except for a tiny elite. Everyone’s horrified by the Epstein files. Murders like those of Alex Pretti and Renee Good are 80–20 issues outside the Twitter echo chamber. And MAGA influencers can’t even admit it. That’s why their defenses are getting more desperate and stupid—because they know they’re cooked.

And the way forward? It’s not about yelling louder. It’s not about dunking on people, although I enjoy the hell out of that. It’s about forgiveness—as hard as that is. It’s about being the adult in the room. It’s about calling that dad, or cousin, or college buddy you cut off, and just checking in.

I talk to my father almost every day. For 25 years, he’s driven me insane on politics. But he’s inching closer. Every conversation matters. That was my little act of resistance this morning—and it’ll be my act of resistance tomorrow, with him and my mom. And I’m okay with that.

We need more people doing that. Because this moment cannot be defined by partisan division. It has to be defined by clarity. By unity. By the real fight.

And right now, the real fight is about exposing Donald Trump—and exposing this class of people.

Because if we don’t, we won’t have a country.

A nation that won’t hold the powerful accountable for abusing children is not a nation worth preserving.

And yet—I still believe this country is worth fighting for. Even now. Even in my disgust. Even as this rot cuts across parties and presidents and decades.

It’s worth fighting for. I’m bringing the rage and sadness into my work today, turning it into action: showing up, pushing back, and refusing to look away.

I hope you do too.