New Rule: The Cojones Awards - Real Time with Bill Maher
New Rule: Great news about a new award show. Listen to this. About a year and a half ago, I was asked to moderate a discussion at the home of a very prominent Hollywood producer. And the attendees that night was a who's who of A-listers and stars. If a bomb went off in that room, there'd be nothing on TV next year but, well, let's just say it would be a great year for Kevin Sorbo. I can't say exactly who was there, but if there really is a Jewish space laser, these guys have the codes.
Anyway the subject we all wanted to talk about that night was cancel culture. It's funny. If this was 10 years ago, this group would have been talking about censorship from the right. Back then it was the Jerry Falwells and Pat Robertsons, the Bill Bennetts and Rush Limbaughs who kept us up at night. I mean besides the cocaine. The book banners and boycotters then were Republicans, like the ones that got me fired after 9-11.
But that's in the past now. And by the past, I mean Florida. And of course not just Florida, today's Republicans have shown that when it comes to canceling they're still more than capable. They canceled Colin Kaepernick for taking a knee, Liz Cheney for defying Trump, Kathy Griffin for performance art. Just last week the redneck royalty of the music world threw a hissy fit because they think Anheuser-Busch is turning their beer gay.
But there's no getting around the fact that what was on the mind of the Liberals that night in Brentwood, or wherever we may have been, was that the most powerful witch hunters now were coming from Twitter, the Ivy League and the progressive left. JK Rowling used to be a villain to the right because she wrote books about witchcraft. Now she's a villain to the left because she has the crazy belief that there's more to being a woman than pronouns and lipstick.
So, that was the point of the evening: how do we take a stand against cancel culture? And I suggested since we were mostly all in show business that we start an award show to honor the brave people who have fought back. Well, I got to tell you, the idea was met with great enthusiasm by everyone, and in short order different people were suggesting the ways that their varied talents could be put to use. And then of course, being Hollywood, nothing happened.
But it's still a good idea. So I'm gonna do it, right here, right now. And not only that, we're gonna do it every year. Ladies and gentlemen, you know the Emmys, you know the Grammys, you know the Tonys, now say hello to the Cojones.
Thank you and welcome to the Cojones. I'm your Master of Ceremonies, and if you're triggered by the word "master" you're in the wrong room. Tonight we present these solid brass balls to the individuals and organizations who others have tried to silence and who answered, "that's not a rule, fuck you."
Our first award goes to the president of my alma mater, Cornell University: Martha Pollock. This month students there demanded trigger warnings before all the lectures in case any of the adult subjects you specifically went to college to learn about came up. And Martha said, "yeah, no, we're not doing that." She didn't cave in or hire a new Dean of Sensitivity. She just said, "no college is for introducing you to new ideas, not for kissing your ass and making you feel wonderful and always right." You're thinking of brunch with your parents. I'm just amazed at how this generation can simultaneously be too sensitive for anything distasteful, and somehow also so into eating ass. So, Cornell, I present you with these balls. I sure could have used them when I was there.
Our next award goes to the place where many Cornell grads will be working next year: Trader Joe's. Trader Joe's, who for years have been selling a line of ethnically themed products trading on the name Joe. For example, they have Trader José's beer. So of course one teenager on Twitter heard the word "José" and said it was racist, and then there was a petition, and then Trader Joe's management did the right thing. They burnt down all their stores and killed themselves. No, they didn't. They said "fuck off you oversensitive little shits, get a life and a sense of humor," and released this statement: "We disagree that any of these labels are racist and we do not make decisions based on petitions." You see how easy it is? So, to the home of the 19 cent banana, here have some nuts.
This next Cojone goes to a man who's dear to my heart for standing up for stand-up. When dozens of Netflix employees walked out over Dave Chappelle's reckless decision to perform comedy on his comedy special, CEO Ted Sarandos could have pulled the special and replaced it with more episodes of "Who Wants to Watch Koreans Get Killed?" But instead he reminded his Netflix employees that comedy exists to push boundaries, and told them, "If you'd find it hard to support our content breath, Netflix may not be the best place for you." So for making the phrase "don't let the door hit you in the ass" never sound better, this is for you Ted.
And you know, when movie lovers get together these days, one phrase that comes up a lot and always makes me sad, "is yeah, you couldn't make that one today." Top of that list is the great "Tropic Thunder" which these scolds have been after for years. But in February, Ben Stiller tweeted, "I make no apologies for Tropic Thunder. It's always been a controversial movie since when we opened. Proud of it and the work everyone did on it." See, people? It's not that hard. He said it and he still got a commercial.
And the lesson is, if you stand up to the mob for just a day or two, their shallow, impatient, immature, smartphone-driven gerbil minds will forget about it and go on to the next nothing-burger, and you? You still will have your Cojones.
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It takes cojones to speak "truth to power." Which tells you where the power really resides.
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P.S. I thought he was embellishing the Trader Joe's story, but no, it was literally one triggered teenager.
This language is textbook Postcolonial Theory, not the language of a teenage kid. It's the language of a parishioner reciting the sacred scriptures. (Or perhaps an activist parent feeding them lines.)