Dave Down, Hannah Up

Right, so the last thing I wanna do is write about Dave Chappelle. But dammit if Dave Chappelle isn’t making me write about Dave Chappelle. So here goes. We all know there aren’t really any rules to comedy except be funny. Obviously this means there’s always been loads of debate about what is funny and what isn’t funny. But while there are no official “rules,” one of the loose conventions most comedians can agree on is it’s better to punch up than to punch down.

Punching up is making fun of those with more power, wealth, fame and other privileges. Punching down is making fun of those with less power, wealth, fame and other privileges. On the school yard, punching down is also known as bullying. So there’s that.

When a very famous, very wealthy and powerfully revered comic like Dave demands we laugh at his jokes at the transgender community’s expense, well, that’s not something I find funny. He proudly declares himself “Team TERF,” defends former beloved children’s book writer turned loathsome TERF J.K. Rowling and wildly homophobic rapper DaBaby. (Of the latter he says, “In our country, you can shoot and kill a [man], but you better not hurt a gay person’s feelings.”)

Like so many of the immensely privileged and disconnected elite in our country, one of his chief concerns about the world today is so-called “cancel culture.” He’s happy to make fun of trans people, queer people, the Me Too movement and whatever else he thinks is unfairly haranguing his fellow rich friends. How dare we demand they treat marginalized people with respect and acceptance, instead of using them as crude punchlines? They have abhorrent views, but we shouldn’t call them out on them for some reason. Again, on the school yard that’s something we just call consequences. But you know — semantics.

Netflix has thus far staunchly defended its airing of the special and paying $24.1 million to Chappelle for it (more than they spent, by a lot, on the entire first season of the wildly successful “Squid Game” I might add). The streamer’s co-CEO Ted Sarandos (the other CEO is Reed Hastings — because why have one straight white male CEO when you can have two) said the content “doesn’t directly translate to real-world harm.” Right, because transgender people — partiuarly trans women of color — are such a protected group that never experience violence or hate in the real world. Give me a fucking break.

Never mind that in the real-world Netflix just fired a black trans employee who was organizing a walk-out about the company’s Chappelle defense. I mean, that sounds like real-harm caused by Netflix, but what do I know?

In his defense of paying for and running the Chappelle special, Sarandos invoked some of the streamer’s more inclusive content including the shows like “Orange Is the New Black,” “Sex Education” and the out lesbian comedian Hannah Gadsby.

So far, this story has no good parts, but by invoking Hannah’s name we finally get some. In response, she took to her Instagram to drop a particularly pointed note to good ‘ol Ted.

“Hey Ted Sarandos! Just a quick note to let you know that I would prefer if you didn’t drag my name into your mess,” she wrote. “Now I have to deal with even more of the hate and anger that Dave Chappelle’s fans like to unleash on me every time Dave gets 20 million dollars to process his emotionally stunted partial world view. You didn’t pay me nearly enough to deal with the real world consequences of the hate speech dog whistling you refuse to acknowledge, Ted. Fuck you and your amoral algorithm cult… I do shits with more back bone than you. That’s just a joke! I definitely didn’t cross a line because you just told the world there isn’t one.”

See, now that’s what you call “punching up.” Don’t worry, as Netflix co-CEO Ted makes $39 million a year so he can just go console himself in a pile of money. Speaking of which, money must be a hell of a drug. Because once people attain enough of it, their most pressing concern seems to be protecting themselves and their fellow rich friends' ability to continue making an obscene amount of it. Unfortunately, we have not yet developed a rehab program for people who become rich assholes. But, at the very least, we could maybe stop handing them the microphone.

Anyway, be a Hannah in this world and punch up. Don’t be a Dave, and punch down. And now, hopefully, I am done writing about Dave Chappelle.