In a spectacle that could only be dreamt up by a particularly vengeful God with a fondness for irony, Bill Gates, the man who made the world safe for clunky operating systems and predatory capitalism, sat for a deposition regarding his relationship with Jeffrey Epstein. And oh, what a deposition it was. A British watchdog, presumably tired of watching the British public watch the Americans do everything with such spectacular bad taste, has demanded answers. But what did we actually learn? Let’s break it down, because if we don’t, we might have to think about the implications.
First, we learned that Bill Gates is the living embodiment of the phrase ‘my dinner with a monster’. Apparently, the Microsoft co-founder had multiple meetings with Epstein, which he now describes as ‘a huge mistake’. Yes, Bill, meeting a convicted sex offender who liked to fly around on his ‘Lolita Express’ might be considered a poor choice. It’s like saying ‘I regret eating that second helping of radioactive waste’. It’s not the mistake that baffles, sir; it’s the lack of foresight. But then, he was probably blinded by the promise of Epstein’s ‘philanthropic’ connections. Because nothing says ‘charity’ like a man who treats women as commodities.
Second, we learned that Gates’s memory is as patchy as a teenager’s first attempt at a beard. He couldn’t recall how many meetings he had. He couldn’t recall what they talked about. He couldn’t recall if he ever visited Epstein’s island. But he did recall that Epstein threw a dinner party in 2013 with ‘a lot of wealthy people’. Ah yes, the old ‘I don’t remember the crime, but I remember the canapés’ defence. This is the man who wants to cure malaria? He can’t even remember a serial predator’s face.
Third, and most damning, the British watchdog, the Charity Commission, is looking into whether Gates’s foundation wasted any of its tax-exempt billions on funding Epstein’s weird science projects. Because apparently, Gates thought giving money to a man who had a private island for ‘research’ was a good idea. Research into what? The migratory patterns of underage girls? The chemistry of coercion? The physics of how to get away with it for decades? The mind boggles. But then, the Gates Foundation is known for its ‘innovative approaches’ to solving world problems. Who knew the world’s problems included ‘how to launder reputation’?
We also learned that the deposition was leaked, presumably by someone who decided that transparency was more important than billionaire privacy. And what a treasure trove it is. Gates comes across as a man so deeply removed from normal human interaction that he probably thinks ‘consent’ is a type of software licence. He spoke of Epstein as ‘a great friend’ and then, when the questions got sticky, said he regretted it. It’s like watching a robot try to explain why it killed a houseplant.
Finally, we learned that the British public is supposed to be outraged, and they are. But the outrage is directed at the right people? The watchdog wants answers. But the real answers, the ones that matter, will never come. Because Epstein is dead. And his secrets died with him, or at least that’s what the powerful patrons hope. Meanwhile, Bill Gates continues his quest to save the world, one deposition at a time. He’ll probably donate a few million to some elephant sanctuary and all will be forgiven. But not by this correspondent. No, sir. The smell of that island will cling to him forever.
In conclusion, the Gates deposition is a masterclass in how to say nothing while saying everything. It’s a symphony of evasion, a ballet of bullshit, a haiku of horror. And the only thing we learned for certain is that when it comes to the intersection of wealth, power, and depravity, there is no end to the moral bankruptcy. So, take a gin, dear reader. A large one. With a twist of lemon and a side of existential dread. And remember: the next time a billionaire tells you he’s sorry, check his bank account. The tears are probably tax-deductible.
