Brittle Spirit
But Louis was like the turning point. I mean, you know, all these allegations are terrible. Louis’s was the only– I shouldn’t say this but fuck it, his allegation was the only one that made me like laugh.

Well, if you think about it…

Because all his friends are reading it and he’s jerking off and he’s surprising people. He’s surprising them, he’s jerking off.

I just picture all the comics in comedy just reading that like, “What?”

It’s terrible. I know, it’s terrible. I’m sorry, ladies. You’re right. You are right. But at the same time, I mean, you know what I mean. I don’t know. Jesus Christ, they took everything from Louis. That was like… I don’t know, it might be disproportionate. I can’t tell. I can’t tell. This is like where it’s hard to be a man. One lady said, “Louis CK masturbated in front of me, ruined my comedy dreams.” Word?

Well, then I dare say, Madam, you may have never had a dream.

Come on, man. That’s a brittle spirit.

That is a brittle-ass spirit. That shit is too much. This is a grown-ass woman. You know what this shit is like?

It’s like COINTELPRO. You know what that is? It’s the programming the FBI had on J. Edgar Hoover. In this program, one of the many things they did was they would track the sexual habits of anyone they considered an enemy of the state. It’s a loop button. That’s why they’ve got all these fucking sex tapes with Martin Luther King fucking bitches. But lucky for us, he actually had a dream. -

You think if Louis CK jerked off in front of Dr. King, he’d be like, “I can’t continue this movement. I’m sorry, but the freedom of black people must be stopped. I didn’t know this nigga was going to pull this dick out and jerk off like this. I just thought we were gonna get a couple drinks and chill.”

Show business is just harder than that. Them women sounding like… I hate to say it, y’all, they sound weak. I know it sounds fucked up. I’m not supposed to say that, but one of these ladies was like, “Louis CK was masturbating while I was on the phone with him.” Bitch, you don’t know how to hang up a phone?
How the fuck are you going to survive in show business if this is an actual obstacle to your dreams? I know Louis is wrong, man. I’m just saying, I’m held to a higher standard of accountability than these women are.

Don’t forget who I am. Don’t forget what I am. I am a black dude. And don’t ever forget how I got here. My ancestors were kidnapped. I don’t even know where the fuck I’m from. They were put on the bottom of boats. They sailed them across the Atlantic. Many of them died. Only the strongest survived. And once they got here, they beat the humanity out of my people. They turned us into beasts of burdens. They made us do their work, and the irony is, hundreds of years later they’re calling us lazy. We fought in the Civil War. We damn near freed ourselves. Then, with Reconstruction, black people did great. My great-grandfather was a very wealthy man. But then the Black Codes came, Jim Crow came, and it was a hundred years of unspeakable oppression again. Lynchings, all kinds of terroristic acts to keep us in the margins of society. Yet, we still fought. And Dr. King was born. And then, things got better. Twenty years after Dr. King was assassinated, Michael Jackson was moonwalking on television. Something, something, something. Barack Obama. Donald Trump and…

Now here we all are. 400-year nightmare.

Took us 400 years to figure out as a people that white people’s weakness the whole time was kneeling during the national anthem.

That’s a brittle spirit. That’s right, nigga .

On the rockets red glare… [screaming] “What are you doing, nigga? Stand up!”

The vice president of the United States got involved. Mike Pence got involved. He went to the game himself. “These niggers will have to stand when they see me.” And all the football players looked up in the stands and saw Mike Pence. “Is that Mike Pence? Come on, y’all. Wu Tang bow.” [screams] Foiled.

Brittle spirit.

I could kill every white person in America at one time. Know how I’d do it? I would just wait for the Super Bowl. Right when they sang the national anthem, I’d have OJ Simpson walk to the 50-yard line with them bad knees.

“Is that OJ Simpson on the field? What the hell’s he doing here?” “Oh, I know what he’s gonna do. Stop him!”  [screams]

You gotta man the fuck up, yo.