Dave Chappelle: 8:46 (2020)

[bunniefuu]

Thank you! Thank you very much!

I hope you all can hear me.

Will you guys shut the f*ck up!

Just kidding! That's my family in the

back, that's why I did that.

Anyway, this is weird. And less than

ideal circumstances to do a show.

But the only way to figure out if this

sh*t will actually work,

well is to do the g*dd*mn show.

So, thank you all for coming.

I want to shout out

all the young people...

...who have had the courage

to go out and do all this amazing

work, protesting.

I am very proud of you.

You kids are excellent drivers. I am

comfortable in the back seat of the car.

So carry on, young ones.

It's hard to figure out what to say about

George Floyd. So I'm not going to say it yet.

I will say something.

Are you guys having a good

time, or is this weird?

I gotta tell you,

this is actually, like,

the first concert

in North America since all this sh*t

happened, so, like it or not, it's history.

It's going to be in the books.

At least we tried.

There's other comedians that would--

Well this is not the first show but the other

shows were like in drive-ins and if people

liked the n*gga's jokes they'd honk the horn.

And that didn't sound like

any fun at all, did it?

So what's you guys? You a black

and white friend hanging out,

do you guys know each other?

It's going to be a quiet ride

home, isn't it? No, just kidding!

I'm just kidding, enjoy your riots.

I'm just kidding.

They're not really even riots.

You notice that?

This is a f*cking weird time.

Mhmm.

In like 1993, I'm not sure

what year it was, but I was in LA.

I had smoked a joint and I was

watching a movie,

Apocalypse Now.

It was like just after 4:00

in the morning. And what later

would become the known

Northridge earthquake happened.

It felt like it started

in my apartment.

You know?

I'm from east of the Mississippi.

On this side we don't know

what earthquakes are

about. I got to tell you something, man

Excuse me, burping.

This sh*t was terrifying.

It was absolutely terrifying.

A lot of things went through my mind, I was

like, not naked, but you know what I mean,

just chilling in my boxers.

I put my clothes on, I found my weed.

And some, a pipe, and a lighter

and some money, and my

keys, all these things,

while the earthquake is happening,

while I'm

experiencing what an earthquake

is for the first time,

and I was certain that

I might very possibly

die. As a matter of fact,

I remember I made a point not to scream,

just in case I lived,

I wouldn't have to

remember myself

being vocally terrified.

But I forgave myself for being terrified.

That earthquake

couldn't have been

more than 35 seconds.

This man kneeled on a man's neck

for eight minutes and

forty-six seconds!

Can you imagine that!?

This kid thought he was going to die.

He knew he was going

to die.

He called for his mother.

He called for his dead mother.

I've only seen that once before

in my life, my father, on his deathbed,

called for his grandmother.

When I watched that tape I

understood this man knew

he was going to die.

People watched it,

people filmed it, and for some

reason, that I still don't understand,

all these f*cking police had

their hands in their pockets.

Who. Are. You.

Talking. To!

What are you signifying?

That you can kneel on a man's neck

for eight minutes and forty-six seconds

and feel like you wouldn't

get the wrath of God.

That's what is happening right now.

It's not for a single cop,

it's for all of it.

f*cking all of it.

I don't mean to get heavy, but.

We gotta say something.

He told the police he couldn't breathe.

One of the hardest parts

of the tape to listen to.

He said, "Please!"

I can't tell you,

as a man,

watching another man go through

something like that, what it makes

you feel like.

I didn't watch the tape for a week.

I didn't watch it. I knew.

I saw a still picture, I said,

I don't want to see this,

because I can't unsee it.

But when I finally watched it,

I understood, nobody's

going home. Anyone who sees this,

well they're going to be furious.

So the other night,

I'm in my little clubhouse.

And I'm watching Don Lemon,

that hotbed of

reality.

He says, "Where are all these celebrities?

Why aren't you talking?"

This n*gga said everybody. I was screaming at

the TV: I DARE YOU SAY ME, n*gga!

I dare you!

Has anyone ever listened to me do comedy?

Have I not ever said anything about these

things before?

So, now, all the sudden,

this n*gga expects me to step

in front of the streets and talk over the

work these people are doing? As a celebrity?

Answer me, do you want to see a celebrity

right now?

Do we give a f*ck what Ja Rule thinks?

Does it matter about celebrity?

No! This is the

streets talking for themselves.

They don't need me right now!

I kept my mouth shut.

And I'll still keep my mouth shut.

But don't think that my silence is...

...complicit of all the sh*t

these n*gg*s are saying. Trying

to get everyone to sing these f*cking songs.

I know all these songs.

I was raised on these songs.

Why would anyone care what their favorite

comedian thinks after they saw a police

officer kneel on a man's neck for eight

minutes and forty-six seconds? I can't

get that number

out of my head...

...because it was my time of birth

on my birth certificate. I was

born at 8:46 in the morning.

And they k*lled this n*gga.

And eight minutes

and forty-six seconds.

I watched everything

everybody says.

I see Candace Owens trying

to convince white America,

don't worry about it, he's a criminal anyway!

I don't give a f*ck

what this n*gga did.

I don't care what this n*gga did.

I don't care if he personally

kicked Candace Owens

in her stanky p*ssy.

I don't know if it stinks

but I imagine it does.

And if I ever find out

I'll let you know for sure.

I'll tell like Azealia Banks,

I'll tell.

I'm the worst.

But I know why. I figured out why they want

to hear it from me, and it's serious.

The only reason people want to hear from

people like me is because you trust me.

You don't expect me

to think perfect.

But I don't lie to you.

I'm just a guy. And I don't lie

to you. And every institution,

every institution that we trust lies to us.

How come they never talk about Chris Dorner?

That's a story about a man who believed

he did everything right.

Do you know who Chris Dorner is?

Chris Dorner, if you remember, was an African

American police officer in the LA PD.

He was executing a warrant with his partner.

Who was a white woman.

And white women, I support you, but boy

if you all don't shut the f*ck up.

During the process of

executing this warrant,

this white woman did

what Chris Dorner thought

was excessive force.

I don't know what she did.

She kicked the mother fucker

that was handcuffed,

or hit a guy that was handcuffed,

or something.

Chris Dorner,

the Black police officer that watched

this white woman do this,

reported this to his superior.

Made a formal complaint.

And was

subsequently fired from the LA PD.

He went through the system.

He took every legal avenue he believed

he had to get reinstated.

And he was not reinstated.

And when his last appeal was finished, this

m*therf*cker... some wild sh*t.

Wrote a manifesto,

you know where this is going.

And in that manifesto, he called me a genius.

Me. Dave Chappelle.

Not just me, but me.

He's a Kevin Hart fan too.

But he called me a genius. And he told

Bradley Cooper who is a friend of mine, don't

do any more Hangovers, n*gga, that's enough.

That's what he said.

And he told his story. Chris Dorner told

his story, how he did everything right

when he was in the

m*llitary, and subsequently,

this was before

any of this sh*t happened, and

then he said,

which was the wildest thing,

he said I'm going to wage

asymmetrical w*r on the LA

police department and their families. Well,

that's an ominous thing to say.

And he did it.

This m*therf*cker,

ambushed two police officers...

...who just sitting

in their squad car. m*rder*d

them. He went to another police

officer's house and k*lled his daughter.

Boy, it was terrifying.

And this m*therf*cker was on the run. He

was doing it. I was supposed to do the

GRAMMYs. I was supposed to present at the

GRAMMYs that week, and a guy from the LA PD

called me and said, "Mr. Chappelle we

understand you're coming to Los Angeles,

and I don't know if you

know, but there is a lunatic

on the streets...

...who is k*lling police officers

and we would like to know

if we can pick you up at the airport? We are

extending this courtesy to everyone he

mentioned in his manifesto.

And I told the police, I'm fine.

I read the manifesto,

he likes me.

Is there anything I can do for you, n*gga?

Because I get very worried!

They found him.

Big Bear. He was hiding in a cabin. When they

figured out where this n*gga was, no less

than 400 police officers showed up and

answered the call. And boy let me tell you

something, they swiss-cheesed this n*gga.

He is dead as dead could be. He is done.

And you know why 400 cops showed up?

Because one of their own was m*rder*d.

So how the f*ck can't they understand what's

going on in these streets?

We saw ourselves like you see yourself.

They weren't the only one.

LeBron James once said something about

racism and Laura Ingraham, which, I will

say publicly anywhere, any time, is a c**t.

Tell 'em I said it.

Told one of Ohio's greatest residents ever:

"Shut up and dribble."

I'll tell you something about LeBron.

This n*gga was on the cover of Sports

Illustrated when he was 17 years old, and

exceeded every expectation that they had

for him. This business is treacherous. This

is a good guy LeBron,

he's a family man,

and this, that and the other.

He didn't let anyone

down. He didn't let anyone down. Came back

to Ohio, won us a championship, and then was

like, I'm going to move to LA, and everyone

in Ohio was like, n*gga we understand.

He's a good man, LaBron James. The bitch told

my friend to shut up and dribble. My friend

is the best at something, and

this bitch is not the best at anything.

Just a regular-ass white bitch

with a platform. And I use the word bitch

all the time because this is "black."

Watch one sh**ting after another:

Eric Garner in New York,

the first guy that

told the police, "I

can't breathe." Eric Garner was selling

loose cigarettes in Staten Island.

When my kid was born,

my first son, my wife lived

in Staten Island,

it's an awful place.

She knows it, everyone who's

ever been there knows it. Yuck, to Staten

Island.

And my black ass would go there, and I

got a lot of fans there, and friends there,

but this is a very terrible place.

f*ck everybody in Staten Island

except the Wu Tang Clan.

Got m*rder*d by one police officer while five

of his fellow officers watched him do it.

Not one of them said,

"Frank, Frank take it easy."

None of that sh*t.

Because they were being

recorded. Because

they were afraid...

...if I correct my fellow officer

on this camera it's going to open

us up for some kind of liability. And the guy

k*lled the person that they were, what

do you call it? Apprehending? The guy was

selling loose cigarettes.

There goes Eric Garner.

And then we have one after the other.

Trayvon Martin gets m*rder*d

by just a regular n*gga that...

George Zimmerman is nobody.

George Zimmerman is an awful human

being. He threatened Beyonce's life, he

threatened Jay-Z's life, he signed Skittle

bags because Trayvon Martin had Skittles

on him when he was m*rder*d by George

Zimmerman. Boy, how do we feel?

How do we feel right now?

This kid was 15 years old being followed

by a grown man with a g*n

and whooped his monkey ass. He b*at the sh*t

out of George Zimmerman and George Zimmerman

m*rder*d him,

I'm very upset.

This kid looked eerily like the president,

he looked like my own

children. I hate George

Zimmerman. As an idea.

Not as a guy, I've never met him.

I'm sure I would though.

Hit the streets.

You got them marching.

Dylann Roof. Dylann Roof

k*lled eight people in a church

in Charleston, South Carolina.

He prayed with them first, and

then he sh*t them at point-blank range.

It goes on and on. And in one weekend a law

abiding citizen right here in Beaver Creek

is m*rder*d. The cop

that m*rder*d John Crawford...

...pulled me over the night

before and let me off

with a warning. And the

next day, kills a kid.

He says, drop the w*apon,

bang bang bang.

This kid didn't even have enough time to

register that he was the one being spoken to.

This is our home town.

It happened right here.

I was very proud to be

your neighbor, I love the

way you guys hit those streets.

We said his name and we tried to

make sure everyone remembered him

but he got lost

in the sauce.

And this guy John Crawford

was a saint. He was there buying

sh*t so him and his kids could make s'mores.

Michael Brown got sh*t the same week,

and Michael Brown became the story.

And then, am I boring you?

Well then, right back in Minneapolis was

Philando Castile. Law abiding citizen, was

a registered g*n carrier, was trying to show

police the paperwork for his registered

w*apon and was m*rder*d in front of his

wife and his child and then right in

Baton Rouge, Louisiana, just two days later

it happens again. And what do you think is

going to happen?

Three days later nine cops get m*rder*d

in Dallas at a Black Lives Matter

rally.

Wow, I'll never forget it.

It was the first time I ever thought,

I gotta get my family the f*ck out of

this place. These n*gg*s

will never understand.

I'm tired of explaining

to these people something

that's so g*dd*mn obvious.

The guy that k*lled

those nine cops,

just like Chris Dorner before him,

was from our m*llitary.

And then right after

he did it,

another four cops were sh*t dead

in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Again, a Black man,

that served in our m*llitary.

What are they doing?

Why would our guys do that?

Black people

from the m*llitary?

Because they believe, just like

they did when they were joining

the f*cking m*llitary,

that they were fighting acts of terror.

These are our people.

These are our countrymen.

If I were white, and saw one of these men get

m*rder*d and I was in the NRA why wouldn't

I stand up for them. A card carrying legal

g*n owner that gets m*rder*d in cold blood?

Because he's Black.

That's why they don't give a f*ck.

There's only one time the NRA ever

supported an as*ault w*apon ban.

You know when it was? It was when the

Black Panthers stormed the state capital

with as*ault r*fles in California.

Candace Owens, that rotten bitch.

She's the worst. I can't think of a worse way

to make money.

The most articulate idiot I've ever seen in

my f*cking life. She's so articulate she'll

tell you how f*cking stupid she is precisely.

And she told George Floyd's wrap record...

On the internet.

"He was the this, he did that,

and he was, he's a drug addict.

And he was not

a hero. And why does the Black community

make him a hero? Why do you chose him as

a hero?" We didn't

chose him, you did!

They k*lled him, and that wasn't right,

so he's the guy.

We're not desperate for heroes in the Black

community. Any n*gga that survives this

nightmare is my g*dd*mn hero.

This is not funny at all.

I got some p*ssy jokes too, I could do,

but I just really just...

sl*very is a really wild concept.

It's some weird sh*t.

The night that those nine police officers

were k*lled felt like the end of the world.

The only reason it wasn't the end of the

world, in my opinion, was because at the

very same time that was happening, Kobe

Bryant was playing his last game as an LA

Laker. And as scary as all that sh*t was, I

kept flipping back to see if Kobe would drop

sixty, and he did. And he did.

And vaguely in the back of my mind I remember

the idiot ass bitch telling somebody to shut

up and dribble, and I watched this n*gga

dribbling and saving this g*dd*mn country

from itself. I loved Kobe Bryant. He d*ed the

night, the day I won a GRAMMY, he d*ed.

That's why I didn't show up at the GRAMMYs.

Because Kobe d*ed. They had both of his

f*cking jersey numbers hanging up. 8, 24.

Well, that's my birthday.

I cried like a baby.

So, here's what I said on Saturday Night

Live that I got completely wrong:

At the end of my set I talked about how few

Black people were invited to the White House.

How Frederick Douglass was the first. And

that it didn't happen again until Roosevelt.

But that was wrong. It happened one other

time before that. Woodrow Wilson. Woodrow

Wilson received delegation of

African Americans at the White House.

They were from South

Carolina. There was a man who was lynched for

a $30 dispute at a grain elevator and they

k*lled him because the n*gga was rich, and

they hated him for being more welathy then

they were, and they m*rder*d him. And the

people in South Carolina said, f*ck that, and

they went via the governor

of South Carolina,

it was a Black delegation

that was facilitated to

meet with Woodrow Wilson.

That delegation was lead

by the AME Bishop William David Chappelle.

That's where

I get my name.

It was my great-grandfather,

who was a sl*ve when he was born.

These things are not old. This is not a long

time ago, it's today. It's today.

That man's wife

was the woman...

...that my father called on

on his deathbed. And they were slaves.

Are you out of your f*cking mind if you

can't see that? And these n*gg*s say why

isn't David Chappelle saying anything?

Because David Chappelle understands what the

f*ck he is seeing.

And these streets will speak

for themselves weather I'm alive or dead.

I trust you guys.

I love you guys.

We'll keep this space open.

This is the last stronghold for civil

discourse. After this sh*t it's just

rat-a-tat-tata-tat-ta-tat-tat-TAT!

I love you very much,

thank you for being here. Goodnight.

"Nobody Speak by DJ Shadow feat.

Run the Jewels"