Bill Clinton Looked at Andrew Cuomo and Said, “You. You Get Me.”
Somewhere between sipping Diet Dr. Pepper and scrolling the headlines, I stumbled across it: Bill Clinton has officially endorsed Andrew Cuomo for mayor of New York City. At first, I laughed, assuming it was a parody post — like The Onion had merged with a C-SPAN transcript. But no. It was real. It was happening. Bill “I Did Not Have Sexual Relations” Clinton has handed the baton of redemption to Andrew “It’s Just Italian Culture” Cuomo. And suddenly, I needed a stronger soda.
Now let’s be clear — I liked Bill Clinton. As a president? Honestly, pretty fantastic. The economy boomed. We got SCHIP. He was charming, he was smart, he was the last Democratic president to regularly win over suburban dads in Dockers. I’m not here to throw shade at his actual governance. But we are no longer living in the ’90s. It’s 2025, and in the age of #MeToo and increased calls for accountability, the optics of one accused man endorsing another accused man aren’t just bad. They’re grotesquely tone-deaf.
Because let’s not pretend this is a run-of-the-mill political endorsement. This is Bill Clinton, who has been accused of sexual misconduct more times than I’ve been ghosted on dating apps, publicly aligning himself with a man who resigned in disgrace after a state Attorney General report substantiated sexual harassment allegations from eleven different women. It’s not just a questionable pairing — it’s like if Jeffrey Epstein had risen from the dead to say, “You know, Trump’s got some good ideas.”
And I get it — some people will say, “But Cuomo did good things during COVID,” or “Bill brought us NAFTA and balanced budgets.” Sure. But no amount of policy wins, handshakes, or PowerPoint slides on housing reform makes this less uncomfortable. In fact, it feels like one long political hug that nobody — absolutely nobody — asked for.
I know the left likes to pretend we’re better than the right when it comes to moral high ground. We love a good cancellation… until it’s one of ours. But you can’t scream accountability when Brett Kavanaugh’s name comes up, then cozy up to Cuomo and Clinton with a nostalgic sigh and a campaign check. You can’t rage against Republican hypocrisy and then handwave your own because the “accused” used to play saxophone or wrote a book about leadership during the pandemic.
This isn’t about tearing down the Democrats. It’s about consistency. Because every time we defend people like Cuomo or Clinton without confronting what they’ve done — or what they’ve allegedly done — we move the line just a little further back. We give more leeway to bad behavior, more excuses to toxic power, and more reason for voters to throw their hands up and say, “They’re all the same.”
And don’t even get me started on the Cuomo comeback tour. This man is acting like he took a brief sabbatical to go find himself in a yurt, not that he resigned while under federal investigation. The audacity is Olympic-level. Cuomo’s campaign feels like when someone shows up at a party they weren’t invited to, insists they’re the life of it, and then demands to DJ. And now he’s brought Clinton as his hype man? It’s less “political strategy” and more “trauma flashback.”
But here’s the thing — it’s also not surprising. Because when you’ve lived a life of powerful men being forgiven, rebranded, and recycled, you stop being shocked by their returns. You just roll your eyes and brace for the op-eds that say “everyone deserves a second chance” — as if those chances weren’t bought with PR teams and donor money.
And while we’re at it, let’s stop pretending this doesn’t have real consequences. When survivors see Clinton praise Cuomo, it’s not just politics. It’s pain. It’s the confirmation that their voices still rank below the convenience of a man with a résumé and a war chest. That no matter how much we march or hashtag or campaign for change, the old boys’ club is still here — older, bolder, and somehow still unbothered.
To be clear: I’m not saying Bill Clinton shouldn’t vote. I’m not saying Andrew Cuomo should be exiled to the Bermuda Triangle. But maybe, just maybe, they shouldn’t be each other’s political soulmates. Because when the country is crying out for new leadership, fresh perspectives, and actual moral clarity, this endorsement feels like digging through the recycling bin and pulling out the first bottle that still has a cap on it.
It’s not left vs. right. It’s not Democrat vs. Republican. It’s Decency vs. Nostalgia. And I’m sorry, but “he was a great president” doesn’t cancel out a legacy of ignoring or excusing abuse. You can appreciate the policy while still demanding more from the person. You can vote blue without blurring the lines between redemption and regression.
In the end, this whole thing isn’t just awkward. It’s emblematic. It’s a symbol of a party that wants to be progressive but still clutches its relics. A party that preaches feminism but still protects the boys who “meant well.” A party that forgets that optics matter — not to pundits, but to people.
So congratulations, Andrew. You got the Clinton stamp of approval. But don’t confuse that with a moral clean bill of health. And Bill? Maybe sit the next few endorsements out. There’s a reason most of us leave our old yearbooks on the shelf.