Dave Chappelle’s Sticks and Stones: Quietism or Martyrdom?
During Dave Chappelle’s 2017 special The Bird Revelation, Chappelle sits in an intimate club smoking a cigarette and more than ever embodies his contradictory presence of pensiveness and nonchalance. As a modern-day philosopher, he tackles controversial topics, dancing on inappropriate and offensive language. In spite of this, as a comedic purist, I sat watching one of the greatest pieces of art I’ve ever been exposed to. He details the novel Pimp by Iceberg Slim and draws a parallel with Hollywood’s treatment of celebrities, including himself, and the insanity that may ensue. His intellect prevails in dangerous territory. His words on Saturday Night Live following the 2016 election rippled through the country as he told stories of Frederick Douglas first visiting the White House and then claimed, “I wish Donald Trump luck and I’m going to give him a chance, and we, the historically disenfranchised, demand that he gives us one too.” Dave Chappelle, as any quality thinker, introduced me to new methods of thought, cultural nuisance and criticism of commonality. He’s fresh. Chris Rock has conceded to studying Chappelle’s work, and Joe Rogan proclaims he’s “a genius […] You’re attracted to listening.” Many argue Chappelle’s the greatest stand-up comedian alive, if not ever. And because of this, his audience is vast. As all quality comedians do, he disrupts my expectations and contemplates inventive scenarios. From allying with Jon Stewart to cementing one of the greatest comedy sketch shows in history, Chappelle’s ethical ethos has been relatively undeniable, which only fuels his ability to speak freely.
In 2019, Chappelle released his most recent installment: Sticks and Stones. Although Chappelle has always been rebellious, this special specifically dealt with the claim that Micheal Jackson’s accusers are lying, and he imitates an Asian-American with an evocation similar to Mr. Younishoni in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. He proceeds to perpetuate a continual argument between the transgender community, by implying transgender people are slowing the LBGTQ+ movement and thus, the other ‘alphabet’ people are resentful.
Spread throughout these harmful comments, are the familiar, thoughtful and risky jokes, which, by comparison, makes such simplified portrays of reality more obvious to the audience. He recalls a Standards and Practices argument about why he couldn’t say a gay slur, but could say a racial one. The women asserts, ‘Because, you’re not gay.’ Chappelle’s punch line response hits triumphantly with the audience: ‘I’m not a [n — -] either.’ This joke, as with many others, upholds a comedic standard which accomplishes critical thought, even through profanity and cultural insensitivity. This raises the question: why are some jokes in this special different? What are the stakes?
Although Socrates’ situation is more extreme, both could either stay in their present circumstances because of quietism and an unwillingness to adapt, or because they are willing to sacrifice their reputation for a higher moral point.
Dave Chappelle is in between a complex argument of freedom from censorship and political correctness. Comedy is one of the only modes of communication not monitored by intense group thought. In fact, his controversy has provided the public with the opportunity to articulate their stance on freedom of speech and the extent to which offense is valid. Re-entering the public in a time period of sensitivity, Chappelle has chosen to remain true to himself and honest in his assertions. Socrates follows a similar individuality, preferring the pursuit of knowledge over the acceptance of the majority. In other words, Socrates states in Apology, a “life unexamined is a life not worth living” and there’s no one who truly “understands human and political virtue” (Plato). Therefore, why would they follow a man-made standard when it’s inherently flawed? Both Chappelle and Socrates would claim substantive justice holds greater value, derived from a higher truth than a legitimate process. Similar to Chappelle, whose audience can reach anyone from a mature studio to an eight-year-old’s bedroom, Socrates was charged for corruption of the youth, asking children to challenge tradition. Perhaps the greatest connection between the two men is their autonomy. Each have the ability to gain freedom — from a cell or from public life. Crito argues for Socrates’ escape from the death penalty, yet Socrates believes if one breaks the covenant, or agreed upon outcome, the “laws of the world below will regard you as an enemy” (Plato). Chappelle could also have a wealthy life in his Ohioan hometown where citizens generally leave him be. And yet, he remains pressing his audience to think for themselves, insinuating a greater respect for society than his punch lines may lead on. Although Socrates’ situation is more extreme, each could either stay in their present circumstances because of quietism and an unwillingness to adapt, or because they are willing to sacrifice their reputation for a higher moral point. I think both are too smart and have too much moral responsibility to simply procrastinate adopting their acts or beliefs to common opinion because of pacifism. Therefore, one must ask: how effective is Chappelle’s crusade for free speech in his most recent special? Is his speech in particular useful in understanding a higher truth? Does his comedy serve a purpose?
Chappelle is leading a constitutional revolution through comedy.
Similar to Plato and Crito to Socrates, others have become students to Chappelle’s stance on freedom of speech. Charlemagne tha God and Andrew Schultz in their podcast, Brilliant Idiots, praise Chappelle. Schultz explains how he has consistently had a platform to fight for his anti-politically correct stance. Now, Chappelle has a louder platform to reach more people than Schultz ever had and Schultz enjoys “just playing [his] part in the ecosystem.” This ‘cruelty’ approach to comedy has been used by Anthony Jeselnik, Sebastian Maniscalco, Michael Che and more. Schultz explains how honored he is that a movement he worked so hard to highlight has reached the highest level. Chappelle is leading a constitutional revolution through comedy. However, the backlash has been potentially even greater. Countless media sources have criticized Chappelle and many believe he has failed to seriously take responsibility for his actions. I would argue his comments in his most recent special lack innovation. They don’t add to any angle other than shock factor, and in fact, many of his extremely harmful comments have a significant faction of followers already established; he may be solidifying problematic beliefs rather than presenting abstract arguments. More abstractly, John Locke in his Second Treatise of Government outlines how individual property is only acquired by applying work and effort towards it. Thus, Locke may claim Chappelle’s newest racist, homophobic and transphobic jokes add nothing to already articulated ideas; no work was contributed and thus, the intellectual property doesn’t even belong to him. Especially from his vantage point of power, it seems distasteful to abuse a platform to further ‘down-punch’ other historically disenfranchised groups.
What was the difference between Chappelle onstage and a man in your living room or on the street using similar rhetoric?
As one who typically appreciates all forms of dark comedy, I know many may claim comedy shouldn’t be assessed through the lens of a political opinion whatsoever; and I would agree. Comedy is an artform, and therefore could only be evaluated based on personal effectiveness. Authenticity cannot be wrong. Therefore, Chappelle doesn’t technically need to be constructive, similar to how Socrates doesn’t technically need to be a quality speaker to convey his message — it may simply amplify each philosopher’s impact. However, Chappelle does need to be funny. Evaluating humor is as hard as evaluating the degree of harm, but Sticks and Stones, without adding elements of critical thought, oftentimes loses its charm. Additionally, his most problematic jokes were oftentimes not even the punchline, but rather a qualifying set-up that revealed his personal opinions outside the context of the joke itself. A joke can be as offensive as necessary, but if it’s more of a statement than a joke, it’s a greater reflection on the speaker than society. What was the difference between Chappelle onstage and a man in your living room or on the street using similar rhetoric? I believe, similar to Socrates, no one should cater to the pressure of the masses. But, they should create their highest quality art, speech or product possible. Chappelle fails to do this.
Freedom of speech also entails the context of modernity. Especially for ‘cruel’ comedians, creativity’s greatest ally is current controversies or sensitivities. Chappelle doesn’t follow others’ rules. He left a $50 million deal for the Chappelle Show and has countlessly refused to integrate with the social norms of celebrity life — and has the social capital to do so. He is testing his limits because he is able and willing. He is reinventing reactionary comedy in a progressive state. Ultimately, he’s capitalized on a changing society’s ascriptive assumption that he would also be an all-encompassing modern-day democrat. This discontinuity if profitable through laughter.
No matter one’s opinion of Sticks and Stones, Chappelle has made us question what is moral and immoral
Although Chappelle may not have articulated humor as successfully as previous specials, I believe he did plan to provoke his audience. Similar to Socrates, though not through questions, Chappelle presents an argument and allows his audience to question it themselves. John Mill, in “On the Liberty of Thought and Discussion,” offers insights for this circumstance, claiming:
“If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth; if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth produced by its collision with error.”
The comedy stage is the ultimate marketplace of ideas and Dave Chappelle struts it well. Both Mill and Chappelle are most likely in favor of utilitarianism, or when a principle is justified from having the greatest benefit. Liberal in terms of individual right to thought, Chappelle combats tyranny of a wave of overwhelming censorship. No matter one’s opinion of Sticks and Stones, he has made us question what is moral. In an age of increasing disparities of the definition of free speech, Chappelle has willingly and consciously volunteered himself as a guinea pig; he has chosen to stay in his cell. One can be wrong and still make us think. Integral to the nature of comedy, jokes may be harmful and still incite growth in thought; the question is assessing the net benefit or loss.
Chappelle typically finds an efficient balance of constructive comments, yet recently, he has failed to identify what is mainstream. Is he challenging or affirming the ideals of his audience? Personally, I believe he momentarily shed his credibility for cheapness. More generally, the answer is not as intuitive. Yet, his art has undeniably formed conflict and diversity of thought, combating blind loyalty to abstract political stances, which, hopefully, leads to a truer reflection of society.
