Staff Reports
The long-standing saga regarding the infamous “W” key incident from the Clinton administration saw a fresh wave of discussion when former President Bill Clinton decided to spill some ink on the topic in his latest memoir, “Citizen: My Life After the White House.” As destiny would have it, this chapter addresses the 2001 transition to President George W. Bush, an event that had the media resembling a pack of rabid dogs at a steakhouse. The juicy narratives included everything from smashed plates on Air Force One to the Clintons allegedly swiping furniture from their own bedroom.
Clinton recounted the frenzy surrounding the allegations of mischief during his administration’s exit. The reports painted a rather mischievous picture: imagine your average office prank gone absolutely haywire. Office printers supposedly pumping out prurient images, answering machines filled with the filthiest of messages, and filing cabinets that had been affixed shut—a veritable reminder that the White House staff was up to shenanigans. Clinton did seem to firmly deny he had anything to do with the alleged destruction aboard Air Force One, but when it came to the keyboards, things got a tad murky.
While Clinton makes a feeble attempt to distance himself from the “W” keyboard fiasco, his nonchalance raises eyebrows. He professes ignorance—claiming he was unaware of any missing keys—while lamenting that he wanted a smooth transition. Yet, of course, there’s always the classic lawyerly art of saying one thing while implying another. Clinton’s ambiguous comments almost act as a running joke; were the keys really swiped, or was it just more Democrat mischief?
Compelling as the keyboard caper may be, it turns out that Clinton’s exit involved a considerable amount of damage—a tidy sum of about $15,000 spread over various forms of “damage, theft, vandalism, and pranks.” That extensive investigation by the General Accounting Committee found all sorts of chaos left in the wake of the Clinton administration. A spokesperson at the time claimed everything was left in “good shape,” but one must wonder what “good shape” looks like—considering the damage reports might suggest otherwise.
Among the other eye-opening nuggets in Clinton’s memoir, his connections to the late Jeffrey Epstein also provide fodder for controversy. While he does acknowledge a few flights on Epstein’s infamous plane, he vehemently denies ever setting foot on Epstein’s remote island playground, Little Saint James. It seems that for a man who has weathered plenty of storms in his political career, Clinton still finds a way to navigate through treacherous waters, even if he’s doing so with a somewhat less-than-credible compass.
