Have you heard tell of Jeffrey Epstein and the mysterious missing list of his clients? MAGA world was told for years that there was a list of Friends of Epstein which the Democrats had buried to protect themselves. Our own sweet US Attorney General Pam Bondi told America she had the Epstein client list sitting on her desk, waiting to be unleashed like the Kraken. Then Oopsy Daisy, she told us there was no list.
Like Officer Barbrady on South Park: “Nothing to see here, people. Move along.” MAGA did not really want to move along. It had been promised red meat. All it was getting was an empty Tofu jar. AG Pam started getting heat after promising Democratic hides and then hiding the records. Alas. For the first time in history, a woman had talked herself into difficulties.
Pam’s troubles reminded me of another famous Lady Person who had caused troubles, our old pal from Greek Mythology, Pandora. Ms. Pandora is the flip side of Pam Bondi. Pam got in trouble for not producing scalps. Pandora got into trouble for opening a container and releasing troubles into the world. They are sisters from another mother. They do have one thing in common; they are both womenfolk of the female persuasion.
What do women want? Much has been written and conjectured about this topic. What does Mr. Science say? The late great blues singer Bessie Smith sang “Give me a pig’s foot and a bottle of beer.” Didn’t take much to make Bessie happy. Daisy Buchanon in the Great Gatsby was unable to rise from a sofa, explaining that “I am paralyzed with happiness.” Daisy only needed great wealth to make her happy. Are you paralyzed with happiness? If not, read on. If you are of the woman persuasion or know someone of that sort, this column is for you. Cut it out and put it on your refrigerator so you too can be paralyzed with happiness.
Consider how women first arrived on Earth according to Greek Mythology. The Greeks tell us that the first human woman was Pandora, who was created at the direction of Zeus. Her origin is a bit dark. Zeus was in a cranky mood because Prometheus gave the gift of fire to humans. This did not turn out well for Prometheus or humans. Zeus told his lackey Hephaestus to get a wad of dirt and make a woman. The woman turned out to be Pandora. She was not intended to be a gift to humans but rather punishment for them learning about fire. Per the myth, she was a “beautiful evil whose descendants would torment the human race.”
The other Gods, to curry favor with Zeus, gave Pandora a flotilla of groovy birthday presents. Athena gave her fancy clothes and a tiara. Hermes gave her a “shameless mind and deceitful nature.” The Charites gave her a fancy necklace. Another God gave her a garland crown. Like Congressmen cozying up to Trump, they poured on the goodies. Everyone on Olympus chipped in with a gift to be “a plague to men who eat bread.” The coolest gift was a jar which Pandora was told she could never open. Somehow over the last thousands of years, the jar became described as Pandora’s Box.
Unlike Pam Bondi’s empty Epstein files, Pandora’s box was filled to the brim with stuff. Unlike Pam, Pandora opened that sucker up to see what was inside. When she opened the box, all the evils in the world flew out to plague humanity. The only thing that did not escape the box was Hope. The lid got jammed back on the box before Hope could escape. Having Hope stuck in a box while the evils of the world fly around causing havoc does not end this column on a happy note.
Is there a moral we can unearth in the equally sad stories of Pam Bondi and Pandora? Pam is probably not happy with the way things turned out for her non-story. Pandora is probably quite happy with evils flitting about in the world. As Sly Stone once sang: “Different strokes for different folks.” Consider the immortal words of the easy to please Bessie Smith: “Check your razors and your guns/ We gonna be rasslin’ when the wagon comes/ I want a pig’s foot and a bottle of beer/ Send me ‘cause I don’t care/ Blame me cause I don’t care.” Gentle Reader:
Have a pork trotter, a Bud Light and put the blame on Mame. 

(Illustration by Pitt Dickey)