Last Week Tonight with John Oliver
Season 12 Episode 29
Aired on November 9, 2025
Main segment: Felony murder in the United States
Other segments: 2025 NYC Mayoral Campaign, Mayoralty of Eric Adams
John Oliver discusses felony murder, a way you can wind up in prison for murder without actually killing anyone, and why Cillian Murphy won an Oscar, not his parents whose hot Irish sex led to his existence. Those last two things are related. We swear.
* * *
♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪
John: Welcome, welcome, welcome to “Last Week Tonight.” I’m John Oliver. Thank so much for joining us. It’s been a busy week. The government shutdown became the longest in history. Fifa announced plans to launch a new “Peace Prize.” Who are they possibly going to give that to? And at the pageant for Miss World Chile, one contestant took the talent portion to a new level by performing with her death metal band.
♪ ♪ ♪ ♪
John: Yes! Yes, yes, yes! If she lost to someone twirling a baton, there’s no justice in this world. You don’t expect someone in a beauty pageant to be good at death metal. The same way you’d be surprised if you found out I have a contemporary R&B album. But you know what, I do. And it is sexy as fuck.
Meanwhile, Tuesday was election day in many places, and Democrats did well across the board, including here in New York, where Zohran Mamdani decisively won the mayoral race and took an entirely earned victory lap afterwards.
Mamdani: I wish Andrew Cuomo only the best in private life. [cheering] But let tonight be the final time I honor his name. [cheering] As we turn the page on a politics that abandons the many and answers only to the few.
John: Yeah, pretty satisfying. Now, some criticized that speech, with Van Jones calling it sharp and a character switch from Mamdani’s tone during the campaign, but that seems deeply unfair to me. He just weathered one of the most Islamophobic campaigns in recent memory. “I wish Andrew Cuomo only the best in private life” is a frankly superhuman level of grace to extend to a man who has yet to pronounce your name correctly once.
Especially given he could have said, “Andrew, your campaign was terrible. What was with the weird A.I. ads? Especially this one you inexplicably released featuring the Bill from Schoolhouse Rock pregnant, with luscious kissable lips? Do you want to fuck the Bill from Schoolhouse Rock, Andrew? Do you? Well, great news. Now you can. In your private life. I wish you the best, you pervert.”
[laughter]
And, look, we’ll talk more about New York’s mayoral race later. But for now, we’re going to dive straight in with our main story this week, which concerns murder, the thing cats are constantly plotting. Cats only want two things: Fancy Feast chicken pâté, and the slow, painful death of their enemies.
Murder’s also, in a sense, what this singer did to the national anthem last year during an election debate for third-party candidates:
♪ And the rockets’ red glare ♪
I fucked it up. I fucked it up, can I go back please?
It’s live. ♪ The bombs bursting in air ♪
I got too nervous. ♪ Gave proof through the night ♪
♪ That our flag was still there ♪
Oh, say does that ♪
♪ star-spangled banner ♪
♪ yet wave ♪
[laughter]
John: Excellent. Rest in peace, national anthem. Was that tough to watch? Yes. But does the fact Jill Stein had to stand there listening to it make it a little better? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Specifically, this story concerns something called “felony murder,” which I know sounds redundant. Aren’t all murders technically felonies? But it’s a particular type of charge, as this local news segment chose to explain with some odd framing.
Reporter: Felony murder is not the preplanned, made-for-TV murder you might be thinking. So— ♪
Narrator: WTF is felony murder? Well, felony murder allows anyone involved in a dangerous crime to be charged with murder if someone is killed during that crime. So even if the person didn’t actually kill someone, they can still get charged. So, let’s say you’re the getaway car driver for a bank robbery and your accomplice panics and kills the bank teller. You can be charged with murder without even stepping into the bank building or having a gun or pulling the trigger.
John: That’s honestly a pretty good explanation, albeit with a very distracting intro.
[laughter]
♪ ♪
What is that? You’re talking about a murder charge here. Why go with wacky graphics and music that sounds like a circus clown’s alarm clock? If you’re talking about something boring like escrow, goof it up to the max. But not if the subject’s serious. The last thing any viewer wants to see is that graphic followed by a reporter saying, “So, WTF is the age of consent?”
[laughter]
But to reiterate: felony murder is basically a felony plus a death equals a murder charge even if you didn’t intend to kill anyone, and even if you’re not the one who did the killing. And as you’ll see, these charges can go way further than just getaway drivers in a bank robbery. Because, crucially, you don’t have to be an active participant in a killing to get charged with felony murder. You don’t even have to be anywhere near it.
Take what happened when these four men broke into a house in Florida to steal a safe. When someone there tried to stop them, one of them beat her to death. But under felony murder, all four were charged with her killing, as well as this guy—and I’ll let him explain why.
I’m in prison because I loaned my keys to my roommate.
It was 2003, the morning after a party at his house in Pensacola.
I mean, he said, “Can I borrow your keys to your car?” and I said, “Sure.”
He went back to sleep. Holle says when he woke up and his car wasn’t back, he called his roommate, who said they were about to break in.
If I would really have taken it serious, I would have called the police.
But under Florida’s felony murder rule, Holle was just as responsible as the man who killed Snider. Holle, like the other four men, was sentenced to life without parole.
John: Yeah, he was sentenced to life for a murder that took place over a mile away, that he didn’t know was going to happen and where his involvement was limited to lending his car for the burglary. It’s enough to make you ask, “what the fuck?” Oh no, no, no, sorry, I don’t actually need those graphics! I’m an adult being upset, not a clown juggling bowling pins.
And the thing about felony murder is it’s actually much easier for a prosecutor to obtain a conviction under it than a standard first-degree murder charge, where they have to prove the defendant intended to kill. Under felony murder, all they have to prove is someone committed or aided in a felony that led to a death. And if you’re convicted, judges can have little discretion on sentencing.
In fact, eleven states and the federal system mandate life without parole for all felony murder convictions, while these states mandate it in at least some cases. And around half of U.S. states allow death sentences for unintentional killings under felony murder laws. In fact, since 1985, eleven people have been executed for participating in a felony during which a co-defendant committed homicide. That’s eleven people executed for murder, despite not killing anyone.
And, look, I oppose the death penalty in all cases, but we clearly shouldn’t be executing people for murder if they didn’t murder anyone. You can find more tips like that in my new law textbook, A Practical Guide to the Most Obvious Shit You’ve Ever Heard.
And while nobody keeps stats on felony murder convictions nationwide, in the states where they do exist, the numbers are astonishing. In Pennsylvania and Michigan, one quarter of people serving life without parole were convicted of felony murder. That’s over 1,000 in each state. And approximately half of California’s prisoners serving life without parole were convicted of felony murder.
And while, in some of those cases, prosecutors were simply using the charge as an easier way to get a conviction for someone who did actually commit the murder, in many others, they weren’t. In fact, a study in New York State found that half of those convicted and punished for felony murder were not proven to have killed anyone.
So given all that, tonight, let’s talk about felony murder. And let’s start with its origins. Because, like so many horrid things in American culture, it actually came from England.
[laughter]
The idea began being applied in British courts in the late eighteenth century, but in 1957 England abolished its version of felony murder, and other common law countries like India and Canada followed suit. Except America. Instead, it doubled down, and hard. In fact, in its current form felony murder’s been called “a distinctly American innovation,” or as the Michigan Supreme Court described it, “a historic survivor for which there is no logical or practical basis for existence in modern law.”
Look, if we’re going to keep weird old laws on the books, let’s at least keep the fun ones. Like the 1971 Minnesota statute that says — and this is true — “no person shall operate, run, or participate in a contest, game or other like activity, in which a pig, greased, oiled or otherwise, is released and wherein the object is the capture of the pig.”
Those words were written and voted on by lawmakers. And I think my favorite part is the phrase “a pig, greased, oiled, or otherwise.” [laughter] Because they knew, if grease and oil were off the table, by god someone would figure out another way to make a pig slippery.
[laughter]
Now, there are some state variations. For instance, these limit felony murder charges to killings by participants in the felony. But these only require what’s called “proximate cause,” which means they allow felony murder convictions when nonparticipants in the underlying crime do the killing.
That can lead to cases like what happened in Elkhart, Indiana, where a group of five unarmed young men, four of them teens, broke into a house in the afternoon to burglarize it, believing no one was home at the time. Unfortunately, the homeowner was actually asleep upstairs, and he grabbed his handgun, came downstairs, and began firing his weapon, killing one of them. The four teens survived and were charged with felony murder in the death of their friend, which they still can’t quite believe.
Teen 1: I didn’t really comprehend it. I didn’t put my mind around what I was really about to go through.
Teen 2: To me, we all should be charged for what we done that day, but nobody committed murder, so why should we be charged with it?
Teen 3: I committed burglary, you know. Serious things did happen. Denzel’s gone, you know. I mean, I’m not saying I don’t deserve time.
Reporter: The trial lasted just four days. The teenagers were all found guilty of an adult crime. Seventeen-year-old Levi was sentenced to fifty years in prison. Sixteen-year-old Blake and eighteen-year-old Anthony Sharp each got fifty-five years.
John: Look, I know they started things by trying to rob the house, but it’s a bit of a stretch to go from that to five decades in prison for a killing someone else committed. At a certain point, assigning an outcome to a chain of causation no longer makes sense. It’s why, when the Oscar for Best Actor was awarded last year, it was given to Cillian Murphy, and not his parents whose hot Irish sex led to his existence.
[laughter]
The fact is, felony murder can be applied in an astonishingly broad array of circumstances. There are stories of people being charged with it after doing drugs next to friends who OD’d, or in the wake of a robbery where a frightened victim died of a heart attack afterward, without having been struck or injured by the robbers.
And take what happened to Lakeith Smith. When he was fifteen, he was robbing a house in Alabama with several friends, and one got shot. But he refused to plead guilty to felony murder, for a reason that, when you hear him explain it to a reporter, is pretty understandable.
Can you tell me why didn’t you take that plea deal?
I knew I ain’t do it. Like, I’m not gonna cop out for no 25 years for a murder I ain’t do, and the people who did it—they scot-free, like.
You said “the people who did it.” What do you mean?
The police. They scot-free, like the one who pulled the trigger and killed him.
John: Yeah. His friend was shot by a cop. And yet, Lakeith got 65 years in prison. Which doesn’t feel like justice. And his mom sums up the absurdity of the situation pretty well.
He should have got the proper time for the crime that he committed. The burglary and the stolen property. So, 65 years on a young guy, 15, who didn’t kill no one? Didn’t kill no one, and didn’t shoot at no one? Alabama.
John: Exactly. I couldn’t say it better. In fact, at this point, I’d argue Alabama’s official state motto should probably just be an entirely derogatory… “yep.”
But while Smith refused a plea deal, many don’t. And that’s actually one of the big, hidden ways this charge can send people to prison. Because prosecutors can use the threat of a huge sentence under felony murder to get people to plead down to lesser charges. It’s one reason why felony murder’s been called “one of those quiet drivers of mass incarceration we never acknowledge.”
And it’s incredible to find out something most people have never even heard of is propelling an issue as prominent as mass incarceration. It’s like learning most heart attacks occur due to people chasing greased-up pigs for sport. Though that’d at least explain why there’s a fucking law in Minnesota against it.
And while nobody knows exactly how many plea deals were obtained under the threat of a felony murder sentence, some who’ve taken one have since spoken out. Like Kevin Reese. He pled to aiding and abetting second-degree murder after he participated in a robbery when he was a teenager, and one of his accomplices ended up killing someone. Here he is explaining his decision to take that plea:
I had two choices. My choice was either go to trial, and a trial according to felony murder I wasn’t going to win, because the threshold to prove someone’s guilt for felony murder is so low. Only thing they had to prove was that I was there, right? And it was a known fact. I was never saying I wasn’t there. I was saying I didn’t do it. And my other choice was take a plea for 22 years and go do 15 years in Minnesota correctional facilities. I had to rationalize this in my 18-year-old brain. I had to, like, almost rationalize, “okay, maybe somehow I deserve this.” I had to literally say, “well,” and rationalize taking 22 years instead of getting life.
John: That’s horrible. Normally, when people are forced to choose the least bad option it just means they resign themselves to having lunch at a Cracker Barrel. Look, when you’re on the highway and the other options are places like “sadder ihop,” “mystery meat buffet,” “one-way ticket to the toilet,” and “homophobic Wendy’s,” then unfortunately “Denny’s with confederate vibes” is gonna be your least bad option.
But despite making the pragmatic choice, it had huge impacts on Kevin, both practical and emotional.
All of the programs inside of the corrections facilities, like, it’s about cognitive behavioral criminality, all of that thinking. So, you being in spaces where you have to lead with, “I am Kevin. I’m a murderer,” right? You have to lead with that.
But each time that I had to lead with that, where I’m a murderer, it’s—it’s really easy to get bitter. It’s really easy to have a lot of distrust and disdain for the system in itself. And it also feels very much like being kidnapped. It feels very much like being kidnapped, because the crime that you did, and why you’re there, there’s a disconnect. Right? So each time you look at your paperwork and it says the big red M, murder, on there, you cringe. I’m really here for murder. Like, I’m really here for murder.
John: Yeah, that sounds incredibly frustrating. If they’re going to reduce someone’s life to a big red “M” for “murder,” the least they could do is add a smaller red “but, y’know, not literally. It’s just a weird legal quirk. Just google ‘felony murder’ if you wanna know the deal. Shit’s insane.”
[laughter]
And since felony murder involves the U.S. criminal justice system you’re probably already assuming it’s applied disproportionately to nonwhite people. But the thing is, you’ll be shocked to learn that white people are actually far more likely to face prison compared to—just kidding, of course it’s applied disproportionately to nonwhite people.
In fact, even within the context of the American justice system, the extent to which that’s true is shocking. In New York, in cases where people were convicted of felony murder as accomplices where they weren’t charged with killing anyone, Hispanic people were about twelve times as likely as white people to be convicted, and Black people were more than 34 times as likely. In Wisconsin, where Black individuals account for less than seven percent of the population, they make up seventy-six percent of those incarcerated for felony murder. And in St. Louis, a city whose population is slightly less than 50 percent Black, every single felony-murder conviction between 2010 and 2022, a total of 47 people, was of a Black person.
And very few things are 100 percent Black people. Not even, as we now know thanks to Rachel Dolezal, the Spokane, Washington NAACP.
[laughter]
But there’s another group on which this law has disproportionate impacts. Because a lot of the people you’ve seen so far were in their teens when their crimes happened, and that’s not a coincidence. Young people are more likely to commit crimes in groups and are more impulsive than adults. In fact, felony murder’s been described as “the quintessential juvenile crime, capitalizing on the developmental vulnerabilities of adolescents.”
That’s why it sends a lot of people in their teens and twenties to prison, often for decades. At one point, in Pennsylvania nearly three-quarters of those serving life without parole for felony murder were 25 or younger at the time of their offense.
And look. There are certain places you do expect to find a teenager: high school, an Olivia Rodrigo concert, Matt Gaetz’s texting history. But it is shocking to see so many locked in prison for felony murder.
Take Almeer Nance. He was just 16 when he participated in the armed robbery of a Tennessee Radio Shack, during which another person shot and killed a store employee. Even though Nance wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger, he was given a mandatory sentence of 51 years. And even one of the jurors from his trial was horrified when she learned about his sentence:
Do you remember how you felt when you heard this 51-year minimum sentence?
I was stunned, shocked. You know, a life was taken, and that is a terrible tragedy. A great injustice to the victim, to his family, to all the people who the ripples of his life would have gone out to for generations. But taking Almeer’s life when he had just started it and wasn’t even formed into who he was going to become yet, really, I felt horrified. And I feel like I followed the instructions. But the law wasn’t just, and I regret being a participant in that injustice.
John: Of course! If you follow the instructions only to learn a teenager is getting sent to prison for half a century, that’s got to be the worst jury duty experience ever—followed closely in a thousand-way tie with all other jury duty experiences.
So, to recap: felony murder’s a law almost no other country uses, it harshly punishes people for killings they didn’t commit, and disproportionately impacts the nonwhite and the young. So what on earth is the argument for it? Well, some try to argue it works as a deterrent against criminal behavior. When Colorado was in the process of amending its felony murder law, this state senator strongly opposed the change.
Senator: Felony murder, just as a concept, ensures that people are not going to be cavalier about who they hang out with and what those people are doing.
John: Okay, couple things. First, maybe back up from your camera juuust a bit. And second, while it’s nice to think felony murder could be a deterrent, there’s little evidence of that. In fact, a task force in Minnesota concluded that the existence of the charge “does not deter behavior” and “does not reduce the risk of reoffense.” Which makes sense. It’s hard for something to be a deterrent if no one knows about it. Think of felony murder laws like Apple TV shows. Sure, there are tons out there, but most people have no fucking idea they exist.
Now, other supporters of the charge argue it’s worth it simply to keep would-be criminals off the streets. Here’s the sheriff who investigated Almeer Nance’s case defending his fifty-year sentence.
Interviewer: What would your response be to people who say this isn’t really working? Locking people up doesn’t actually solve any problems.
Sheriff: Well, for those who say it doesn’t really solve any problems by locking these juveniles up for a long period of time, Almeer Nance hasn’t been involved in any more violent crimes.
John: What? Well, by that logic, fuck it—just lock everyone up forever. And even as I said that, I’ve realized that’s definitely now going to be the official theme of the 2028 Republican National Convention.
[laughter]
So what can we do? Well, the solution here’s actually pretty simple: just get rid of the felony murder charge! Every other common law country did that decades ago, and we should too. And to be fair, some states are at least trying to limit it. Minnesota changed its laws so that someone can no longer be charged with murder unless they intended to cause a death or were a major participant in a murder. And California did something similar. And both states made their changes retroactive, so people convicted of felony murder could ask to be resentenced.
And thankfully, after getting media attention, some convictions have been overturned. The Elkhart Four had their felony murder convictions reversed, and the guy with the car keys had his sentence commuted by Florida’s governor. However, Lakeith Smith and Almeer Nance are still in prison, and if you’re seeing a pattern—congratulations on noticing extremely obvious patterns.
And look, no one’s arguing that people who commit a felony should go unpunished, or there shouldn’t be consequences when someone’s killed. But they should be punished for the crime they committed, and not one they didn’t intend or indeed carry out themselves. Because as I hope you’ve seen tonight, felony murder really doesn’t address crime at all. All it does is throw people in prison for decades for something they often did not do.
All of which begs the question: what the fuck? You know what? For this one time, I’ll allow it.
[…]
John: Moving on. Before we go, a final word about New York’s mayoral race. Because it was truly insane from start to finish. Take this moment from the first debate:
Moderator: Let me ask you this: are there any parades that don’t exist that you think should? Mr. Mamdani?
Mamdani: I haven’t thought much about parades, to be honest with you.
Moderator: Mr. Cuomo?
Cuomo: I have not thought—I don’t even know what parade doesn’t exist, frankly.
Moderator: Could be for anything. Mr. Sliwa?
Sliwa: Every parade has a right to exist in New York City.
[laughter]
John: That pretty much sums up the campaign. Mamdani brushing off a meaningless question. Cuomo frantically trying to change his answer enough so it doesn’t look like he’s copying Mamdani. And Curtis Sliwa answering a question no one even knew they could ask. [laughter]
And since no one answered it, if you want a parade that doesn’t exist but should, I’ve got you covered! A Henry Winkler birthday parade, one for that owl in Central Park people loved till he died, and a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade but where the floats are filled with candy and children hit them with sticks. You are welcome!
Now, you may’ve noticed there was one candidate missing there because he’d already pulled out: Mayor Eric Adams. He dropped out back in September, and it says something that this is how local news covered that.
Reporter: Mayor Eric Adams is a son of Brooklyn, but Brooklyn voters are not exactly sad he’s leaving the race. In fact, many wonder what took him so long.
Voter 1: You know, I’m happy that he’s gone, and I’ll be voting for Zohran Mamdani.
Voter 2: I myself, from what I know, didn’t see a path to victory for him.
Reporter: We didn’t find any New Yorkers this afternoon disappointed about Mayor Eric Adams leaving the race.
John: They couldn’t find anyone! This city has 8 million people. I am one thousand percent sure I could find someone who would vote for a pigeon fucking a bagel in Central Park. But no takers for Eric Adams? That’s gotta hurt.
But given his time as mayor is drawing to a close, we thought we’d take one last look at Eric Adams. Because he’s a deeply weird man. We’ve played this clip before, but it’s worth seeing again because as answers to questions go, it never gets less shocking.
Interviewer: Mr. Mayor, we’ve come to the end of what was a very eventful 2023, right? So, when you look at the totality of the year, if you had to describe it—and it’s tough to do—in one word, what would that word be? And tell me why.
Eric Adams: New York. [laughter] This is a place where every day you wake up, you could experience everything from a plane crashing into our Trade Center to a person who’s celebrating a new business that’s open. This is a very, very complicated city. And that’s why this is the greatest city on the globe.
John: Incredible. Remember, the question he was asked there was “describe 2023 in one word.” Just say “Barbenheimer,” Eric. It’s right there. And the baffling ride that answer took us on is the Eric Adams experience in a nutshell.
He genuinely might be one of the strangest people alive. He received his first three paychecks in crypto, he thinks there’s a ghost that runs around Gracie Mansion, he gave Diddy the key to the city, and once proudly showed off a giant new police robot to monitor subway stations, posing for a photo with it where he made half a heart. The limbless robot simply couldn’t reciprocate. And even though it doesn’t have hands or human features, it still somehow looks like it’s thinking, “this guy is a fucking idiot.”
Also, he once said this at a press conference:
I’ll never forget when, uh, when I was talking about a menopause-friendly environment in Brooklyn Borough Hall and all the women came to me and said, you know, please don’t mention that, don’t talk about it. I mean, we can talk about erectile dysfunction, but not clitoris stimulation—something is wrong. Something is just wrong. And we just have to stop doing that.
John: Amazing. And remember, there’s a nonzero chance the question he was answering there was “can you describe 2023 in one word?” [laughter] And kudos to the sign language interpreter. She didn’t slow down for a moment there. Which, as I’m sure Eric Adams would tell anyone who’ll listen, is sometimes important to do during clitoral stimulation.
Adams also lied nonstop about everything. For instance, he claimed he was vegan, but not only was he spotted eating fish around the city in a controversy dubbed “Fishgate,” he then told a reporter, “if I see a piece of chicken, I’m going to nibble on it.”
He also claimed that, for decades, he’d carried a wrinkled photo of a fallen police officer friend of his who was killed in the line of duty—even posing with the photo—only for it to later be reported that his staff had found it on Google, printed it in black and white, and made it look old by staining it with coffee.
Oh! And he once said this, at an event for Dominican New Yorkers:
I may have been born in Alabama, but I’m Dominican, baby!
John: Eric Adams was born in Brooklyn.
[laughter]
But that’s still not all. He also relentlessly pandered—from wearing this appalling “All Lives Matter” baseball cap to holding over 90 flag-raising ceremonies for countries, where he’d say some version of “New York is the [country’s biggest city] of America,” while shoehorning in this line about what makes that country’s immigrants unique:
You believe in families. You believe in business. You believe in public safety.
I know how you believe in business, how you believe in family, how you believe in public safety.
You believe in family, you believe in business, you believe in public safety.
You believe in family, you believe in business, you believe in public safety.
We thank the Croatian people here. You believe in family, you believe in business, and you believe in public safety.
John: Adams really went out of his way to make each nationality feel special. I’d say it was like a New York mayoral Groundhog Day but that’ll always refer to when Bill de Blasio dropped a groundhog named “Charlotte” who then died a week later. Which is a shame, but at least we know what Eric Adams would have said at Charlotte’s funeral: “she was a groundhog who believed in family, businesses and public safety.”
Amazingly, Adams was once a promising political figure. Early in his term, he had a 63% approval rating, and there were rumors he was eyeing a White House run. But less than two years into his term, he’d plummeted to a 28% approval rating, the lowest for a New York mayor since Quinnipiac University began polling here, only to drop another eight points after that.
Now, to be fair, he had some successes. He introduced a rezoning plan that some say amounts to the most significant effort to address the city’s housing crisis in decades, and he launched a major citywide campaign to strengthen literacy in public schools. But his administration also had some notable failures. He vetoed a bill banning solitary confinement; misconduct complaints against NYPD officers increased under his administration. And while he’d said that Rikers should close, its population not only increased, he also got baptized there by Al Sharpton for some fucking reason. And I haven’t seen a politician so flagrantly deliver what one asked for since Nancy Pelosi took a knee while dressed like an African history studies professor at graduation.
But the true hallmark of the Adams administration was its constant scandals. He himself was charged with five counts of conspiracy, wire fraud, bribery and soliciting illegal campaign contributions from foreign nationals. And throughout his tenure, his efforts to deny wrongdoing tended to raise more questions than they answered.
Adams: I am clear that we follow the rules. I cannot tell you how much I start the day with telling my team, “we’ve got to follow the law, got to follow the law,” almost to the point that I am annoying.
John: That’s such a red flag. If every morning I called a meeting to say three things—work hard, respect each other and don’t participate in the illegal exotic animal trade—you’d wonder what the fuck was going on in our workplace, and I’d direct your questions to our office pangolin. Now, the charges against Adams were dropped earlier this year after the Trump administration intervened. But his behavior only got weirder. And I’m not talking about his first press conference after the charges were dropped, when he wore this t-shirt with the phrase “in God we trust.” Or when he later wore a different version of that same shirt, which he said was in Spanish to honor the victims of a nightclub collapse in the Dominican Republic, even though it was, in fact, in Italian. Instead, I’m talking about when Adams suddenly announced he was going to restore ICE’s access to Rikers, which had been blocked since 2014, and in the wake of that, appeared on Fox News with Tom Homan, who seemed to come right out and say there’d been a quid pro quo.
Homan: If he doesn’t come through I’ll be back in New York City and we won’t be sitting on the couch. I’ll be in his office up his butt saying “where the hell is the agreement we came to?”
John: Wait… “I’ll be in his office up his butt?!?” I mean, that certainly sounds like a threat. I guess it also sounds like two puppets having an affair in the workplace but mainly, it sounds like a threat. But it’s not just Adams himself. The scandals surrounding his administration were also relentless. Here is a partial list.
His police commissioner resigned after federal agents raided his home and seized his cell phone as part of an investigation into corruption allegations.
His police chief resigned and had his home raided in response to allegations of sexual misconduct and abuse of overtime.
Adams’s girlfriend, a senior education official, retired amid an investigation into accusations she didn’t show up for work and failed to disclose luxury travel.
His buildings commissioner resigned before being indicted on felony counts as part of an alleged bribery scheme involving trucking contracts and illegal gambling.
His chief advisor resigned before being indicted on bribery and conspiracy charges including that she traded political favors for an appearance on the TV show “The Godfather of Harlem.”
His first deputy mayor resigned after the FBI raided her home and seized her devices as part of a corruption investigation. And her brother-in-law, also a deputy mayor, resigned after the FBI raided his home as part of that same investigation, writing a letter that just consisted of “I resign effective immediately. Thank you.” Which is pretty abrupt. All it’s really missing is “sent from my iPhone.”
Then there’s Winnie Greco, Adams’s special adviser, who resigned after the FBI raided her homes as part of a conspiracy, fraud, and foreign influence investigation. And even after her resignation she was still volunteering with Adams’s reelection campaign until this happened.
Report: A former adviser to Mayor Adams has been removed as a volunteer from his reelection campaign after allegedly giving a reporter a wad of cash stuffed inside of a potato chip bag.
John: Yeah. That happened. And in a Herr’s sour cream and onion bag, no less! And come on. If you’re gonna slip someone $300, spring for a better chip. Go with Ruffles Cheddar, or Cape Cod Barbecue, or, needless to say, Flamin’ Hot Cheeto puffs. Have some fucking respect for the person you’re trying to snack-bribe. Now, I have to tell you: all those officials deny wrongdoing and only these two have actually been charged with a crime, and they’ve both pled not guilty. But that’s still a lot! This has been a truly wild four years. And honestly, it seems kind of fitting that, when reporters caught up to Adams after he cast his vote on Tuesday, this was his message to the city.
Adams: The only message I can give to New Yorkers as I go to the next leg of my journey is I’m leaving you a good city—don’t fuck it up. [laughter]
John: I mean, you’re taking a lot of credit there, given they literally couldn’t find a single person in New York who’d miss you on the news. But you’re right. This is a great city. Though, not because of you—and sometimes it’s in active spite of you. You know, if I could sum up Eric Adams’s mayoralty in one word it’d probably be: New York.
[laughter]
Because this is a place where every day you wake up, you could experience everything from a plane crashing into our Trade Center, to a fake vegan non-Alabaman leaving a ghost-filled Gracie Mansion to lecture all of us on family, business, public safety, and of course, clitoral stimulation. Goodbye, Eric Adams, you deeply weird man.
[…]
John: That’s our show. Thanks for watching! See you next week! Good night!
♪ ♪ ♪ ♪
