Epstein Secrets

? That was the issue in the Von Bulow and Sybers cases. It was also the question presented when Ted Binion, the owner of the famous Binion Casino in Las Vegas—the home of the World Series of Poker—was found dead in his home on September 17, 1998. Binion’s live-in fiancé, Sandra Murphy—a young, sometimes ex

nt them in the failed efforts to fly the Palestinian flag from a flagpole in the Harvard Yard. They knew my negative views of their hero—I had called Arafat’s death “untimely,” because if he had only died five years earlier, the Palestinian Authority might well have accepted the Clinton-Barak peace offer—

they disagree with to express wrongheaded views, while insisting on their own right—indeed obligation—to express disagreement with such views. When Yasser Arafat died in 2004, I was asked by Palestinian students at Harvard to represent them in the failed efforts to fly the Palestinian flag from a flagpole in t

amily life since our first, war-truncated, time at Stanford. During the university holidays, we'd also travelled: to Canada. Mexico. Lake Tahoe. Even Las Vegas, where, thankfully, we lacked the money to chance our luck, but where my years in the sayeret suddenly came in handy. We spent the day at Circus Circ

1967 war had turned out to be hollow words. It was time for a new generation, and a new, more direct, form of confrontation with the "Zionist enemy." Arafat had set up camp with nearly a thousand men just across the Jordan River, in a town called Karameh. From early 1968, they had been launching hit- and-

bank run in California. And imagine that unemployment in these states is above 20 percent, with youth unemployment twice as high. Picture riots in Las Vegas and a general strike in Los Angeles. Now imagine that the only way to deal with these problems is for Nevada and California to go cap in hand to V

k the first steps to withdraw its forces and settlers from Palestinian territories. Despairing of any possibility for productive negotiations while Yasir Arafat led the PLO, but under heavy pressure to make some move, Prime Minister Ariel Sharon turned to Gaza, which the old general viewed as a military bu

amily life since our first, war-truncated, time at Stanford. During the university holidays, we’d also travelled: to Canada. Mexico. Lake Tahoe. Even Las Vegas, where, thankfully, we lacked the money to chance our luck, but where my years in the sayeret suddenly came in handy. We spent the day at Circus Circ

967 war had turned out to be hollow words. It was time for a new generation, and a new, more direct, form of confrontation with the “Zionist enemy.” Arafat had set up camp with nearly a thousand men just across the Jordan River, in a town called Karameh. From early 1968, they had been launching hit- and-

massage clinic is canceled, the money is refunded, Lifestyles will sue the hotel for breach of contract, and next year’ s convention will be held in Las Vegas in 1998. A lawyer, standing on the border of cynicism, suggests, “Just buy a town in Mexico and buy off all the officials.” In the previous year, 1

n the Oval Office while | was on the phone with Benjamin Netanyahu. | was telling him about the time that Monica was performing oral sex on me while Yassir Arafat was waiting in the Rose Garden for our appointment. | HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015141 didn’ ttell Netanyahu that she was just about to perform the same act