The Circus Before the Truth
The other night, I found myself watching what can only be described as a pure clown show—a sport where legends once stood tall, boxers who helped shape culture and history. What I watched was not that.
It was Jake Paul.
Someone many of us tuned into not out of admiration, but in hopes of watching him lose the right way. There’s nothing to like about Jake Paul, and we all know it. He comes off cocky, greedy, selfish, arrogant. We’ve never seen him helping kids, fighting for a cause, or standing for anything bigger than himself. It’s one circus act after another.
And while that mess unfolded, something important happened.
A trailer appeared for a new Dave Chappelle special.
At that moment, I didn’t care how long the boxing match dragged on. I was watching Dave.
Why Dave Still Matters
I’ve always loved Dave Chappelle. What’s not to like?
He’s funny, yes—but more than that, he stands for things. He keeps it real. He’s taken comedy to levels most never reach. Dave is a master storyteller, the kind you can sit and listen to for hours without realizing time has passed.
You can tell he’s lived life. Traveled the world. Met people who truly shaped how he sees it. That’s what feels missing right now.
We once lived in a time when people changed the world through music, political thought, service, or what they built. That time has been replaced. Now we celebrate people clinging to relevance. Streamers and OnlyFans models make millions while teachers in their fifties are still paying student loans—I know some of them personally.
We have hate podcasters tearing each other apart. A president who seems detached from the people, enriching his family on the way out, handing out pardons like party favors. The Black community is without real leadership—many giants have passed, and those standing now aren’t the ones who shaped culture the way leaders once did.
Dave Chappelle Makes Sense of the Chaos
And then Dave did something only Dave can do.
He gave us what we didn’t know we needed.
He made sense of the senseless. Of the mess we can’t understand how we allowed to go this far. It took a comic to slow everything down and force us to actually look at the chaos we’re living in.
He closed the show with Stevie Wonder’s “Joy Inside My Tears.”
A perfect choice.
A fitting truth.
I hope one day we pull ourselves together. That when this horrible moment becomes history, we find a way to heal—to see each other as brothers and sisters, to stop hating people for their skin color, to remember that our time here is short and decency still matters.
I encourage you to watch it. Sit down. Take it in.
Why Netflix’s Role Can’t Be Ignored
Let’s be clear: this special doesn’t exist without Netflix choosing courage over comfort.
In an industry where platforms often cave, Netflix continues to allow artists to speak without sanding down the edges. They didn’t package this to be safe. They didn’t bury it. They didn’t apologize for it.
They trusted the audience.
And that trust matters.
Because when platforms stop taking risks, culture stagnates. When truth is filtered through fear, it stops being truth at all.
Comedy as Cultural Translation
For decades, comedians have quietly done what institutions failed to do: translate reality in a way people can absorb.
Richard Pryor did it.
George Carlin did it.
Chris Rock did it.
Now Dave Chappelle is doing it — but in a time far more volatile, far more fragmented, and far less forgiving.
He connects history to the present without sounding like a lecture. He pulls from personal experience without turning it into therapy. He challenges misinformation without pretending he’s above it.
That balance is rare.
And it’s dangerous — because it can’t be easily dismissed.
Why This Moment Matters More Than the Laughs
We’re living in an era where narratives move faster than facts. Where outrage travels farther than understanding. Where history is rewritten in real time, depending on who controls the microphone that day.
Dave Chappelle didn’t rush this special. You can feel that.
It’s layered. Measured. Deliberate.
He wasn’t chasing applause — he was chasing clarity.
What makes the special hit so hard isn’t the jokes themselves, but the space between them. The pauses. The eye contact. The moments where he lets silence do the work most people are too uncomfortable to sit with.
That’s not comedy club behavior.
That’s a man asking an audience to think.
Whew. I Really Wish I Didn’t Watch It.
The new Dave Chappelle special was a LOT.
And now I can’t stop thinking about it.
He dropped it at 2 a.m. on a random Friday—like a chaotic ex who “just wanted to talk.”
No warning.
No promo.
Just unhinged energy.
I knew it was going to be wild when Netflix didn’t even list the full title.
The Calm Before the Storm
The first 30 minutes?
Classic Dave.
Trump’s National Guard situation.
The Riyadh comedy festival.
Puff Daddy jokes that hit very different now.
I was laughing.
Relaxed.
Completely unprepared for what came next.
Then Dave stops.
Looks at the audience.
And announces he’s going into his closure—like a professor warning you the final exam is about to begin.
A 30-Minute Journey Through a Century
What follows is a 30-minute odyssey spanning 1910 to 2025.
He starts with Jack Johnson—the first Black heavyweight champion, a man America tried to destroy simply for existing with audacity.
Then he weaves in:
- Nipsey Hussle
- John McCain
- Stevie Wonder
- T.I.
- Charlie Kirk (somehow)
We’re jumping from boxing rings to rap beefs, political theater to Motown legends—names that have no business sharing the same sentence, let alone the same story.
And yet, Dave connects them all.
The Real Message
He’s talking about misinformation.
About history being rewritten in real time.
About what happens when we stop paying attention.
About truth getting buried under a thousand hot takes.
And then he folds in himself.
His life.
His friendships.
Real moments with real people.
A level of vulnerability I wasn’t ready for.
As a writer, I sat there in complete amazement.
The structure alone is insane. He’s juggling a century of American history, celebrity anecdotes, personal memoir, and social commentary—threads everywhere, no safety net.
I kept thinking, there’s no way he lands this.
Too much ground.
Too many threads.
No comedian sticks this landing.
And Then He Does
One punchline.
Thirty minutes of chaos tied together in a single bow.
The craftsmanship is honestly disgusting.
Years of setup.
Exposed threads that looked like mistakes.
All of it intentional.
This isn’t stand-up.
It’s architecture.
It’s sophisticated wordplay.
It’s cultural documentation disguised as comedy.
As much as I feel and relate to Dave, my own work has always been about telling stories that bring awareness to people living with health conditions. Unfortunately, this is an industry that often sees only one thing—the almighty dollar. Humanity comes second, if at all.
At times, I feel like the MLK of what I do. And like him, I’ve been shaken more than once by the very people who hold the jobs, the titles, and the power to make decisions. People who are supposed to protect progress, not stall it.
But I also know this: if you stay in the game long enough—and if the work is real, if the work has integrity—it always comes full circle.
This fight isn’t about recognition or ego. It’s for those who can’t fight for themselves. And I won’t relent. Ever.
I don’t tell jokes. I haven’t shared a room with Stevie Wonder. But I have seen the world. I’ve lived. I’ve listened. And I know—without question—that what we are building is necessary.
What we have matters.
And the world needs it.
Why I’ll Never Watch Comedy the Same Way Again
So yes—I “wish I didn’t watch it.”
Because now I’ll never experience comedy the same way again.
And I’m left sitting with feelings I didn’t ask for.
Thanks, Dave.
For real.
About the Author
Charles Mattocks is an award-winning filmmaker, actor, author, and global health advocate. The nephew of reggae legend Bob Marley, Charles has devoted his life to raising awareness about chronic illness, health equity, and personal empowerment. His groundbreaking television projects — including Reversed and Eight Days — have aired on major networks and inspired audiences worldwide. Through his work in film, writing, and health media, Charles continues to champion wellness and the importance of evidence-based care across communities.
