Like all things that grate without pause, giving me no rest until thoughts manifest as words, I suspect many minds are far from peaceful. Jeffrey Epstein’s death makes me restless. Hubris might have worn the reapers cloak, but hubris had a wing man. A dangerous one.

There is no collective breath singing ding dong the witch is dead. Instead a frenzied presence churns. The ritualized death of modern evil has not yet set us free, because something, perhaps even more insideous lurks behind the corpse.

Both a fact checking machine and a witch hunting monster, the New Inquisition is easily confused, but not this time. This time it’s easy. There are plenty of official papers to keep the fire burning with scorching non-toxic heat.

There’s a New Inquisition in town, and it screams to be heard on all channels across all made-up boundaries. It unites those who, with faux burgers in hand, demand an archaic way of life burn at the stake. There is plenty hiding behind hedge funds and trust funds in which to feed the fires, but will we hunt them? Will we bring them to the flames?

Mr. E had issues. Mr. E had friends with issues. Mr. E had issues with these friends, and these friends expected the issues to shush shush shush along with Mr. E’s last gasping breath. The new Inquisition has ubiquitous eyes beyond anything 1478 A.D Spain could ever have imagined, and we all know how to use them.

There are no comforting sounds of Bach, a dark casket under a spray of white lilies. The end of a deranged playboy’s era, with plenty of confused women eating the apples given to them by the well fed, well paid, well used minions who claim they didn’t know better. Shame on them. This is a dirty exposed funeral and you don’t need a ticket or a tissue.

For the names we know and the names we don’t, it’s time to come out come out where ever you are. Walk into the flames with a shred of remorse or be cast upon the inferno, with nothing left to infer. We don’t really care, as long as you burn.

Fire, harsh and final as it may be, is a natural cleansing, and sometimes the only way for a civilization to grow is to obliterate what was, in all its infamy. Take no prisoners and look forward. Be wary of buckets by hand or tankers by air. Water is the unsaid, the fear of retribution, the lost evidence. An honest reckoning is needed -a full accountability of ALL THOSE CONCERNED. Or this disturbing way of life – the ability of the tigers to feast on the deer, just because they can – will rise again.

So do we care enough to continue the Inquisition? To unearth, root out and ignite, regardless of where they hide or what they hide behind? Or, are we done and a lone corpse, cold on a metal tray is enough for now?