In a series called Mondo Appropriato, Culled Culture examines how “on the nose” something is in the pop cultural and/or political landscape.
Though there are presently a “select few” who are genuinely concerned about Bill Clinton’s health in the wake of both his ties to Jeffrey Epstein and the airing of American Crime Story: Impeachment, some might be interested to know that, of all the things to be hospitalized for at Bill’s age (seventy-five), it was a urological infection. Not pneumonia, not COVID—a goddamn UTI.
As far as “on the nose” incidents go, the only thing more tailored to this particular ex-president might have been prostate or testicular cancer. After all, Bill is as known for creating surplus budgets and a healthy GDP as he is getting surplus BJs from various women of a certain “cocktail waitress” aesthetic. But it would probably be too naïve to call his current fate something like karma. For even though urological infections in men typically occur as a result of an STD such as the old classics, gonorrhea and chlamydia, it doesn’t seem like quite a precise enough comeuppance (i.e. the aforementioned prostate or testicular cancer). Anyway, knowing Bill, we can’t assume that just because he was impeached or because eyes have been on his sexual behavior ever since, that he would actually let that quell his libido. Even at this advanced age.
Indeed, many will tell you that men—especially men like Bill—only become more horn doggish as they settle into their later years. But, just for a moment, let us pretend to give Bill the benefit of the doubt and say that his urinary tract was infected as a result of tamer causes pertaining to age…like a buildup of E. coli or some shit (figuratively, not literal shit—though that’s a possibility, too). Or hell, maybe even a kidney infection that trickled down (a phrase now forever linked to Reagan). Even so, it doesn’t change just how all-too-appropriate of an area this is for Bill to experience some difficulties in. What’s more, to do so in Monica Lewinsky’s own LA-based stomping grounds (Clinton was admitted to UCI Medical Center, not to be confused with UTI), as he happened to be in town for some fat cat banquet sort of thing for his foundation.
The infection, which has now spread to his bloodstream to cause sepsis, feels like some grand metaphor more than it does karma (for that would infer Clinton actually dying of this “setback”—which seems unlikely since, just as most other rich people, he has access to the best health care). As though to tell Bill that, after everything, he still never learned from engaging in the behavior that caused his very public downfall. And yet, with a woman like Hill at his side to only encourage his belief in having a perpetual cushion thanks to her “stand by your man” philosophy, how was Bill ever to learn that his comportment was not okay?
The eerily apropos innuendo of Bill’s infection persists with the small detail that Bill has an assistant, making statements to the press on his behalf, whose last name is Urena (or Ureña if you want to spell it correctly instead of whitely). Yeah, it sounds way too close to urethra. To enhance the appurtenance of it all, UTIs are generally more common in women. For Bill to suffer a “woman’s affliction” might also come across as something like karmic retribution. Even if Bill would maintain until the end that he’s always been the biggest “cheerleader” for women. Regardless of those women never asking to be cheered on in the bedroom (or, in Bill’s case, any other sort of room that doubled as such).
In any event, whether one sees it as an overdue bodily reckoning or mere uncanny happenstance, it’s not as though Bill’s name will forever be tied to having a diseased dick the way Monica’s name will forever be tied to Bill’s.
