All language subtitles for In.the.Know.S01E05.Yogurt.Week.720p.PCOK.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-FLUX_Eng

The real mystery is

if my husband removed his own fingerprints

or if it was done against his will.

But listen to me running on here.

That's a lot to deal with.

Either way,
I'd sleep a lot better

if they could find the rest of the body.

Thank goodness I have
Yogurt Week to focus on.

So it sounds like

you probably aren't ready to,
I don't know,

get a hot cocoa at Chelsea Markets

with a male friend?

Oh. Well...

Fuck!

What's wrong?

What's wrong?

I got the hiccups
from your fucking yogurt,

and I'm set to record in...

73 minutes.

It's gonna be fine, Lauren.

Fine?

This is our nine/11.

You say that once every couple weeks.

Fix me.

- A large, odorous man

slurping ramen noodles.

These have to be scarier.

Imagine Iggy Pop never
recorded "Zombie Birdhouse."

- Becoming an empty nester.

- You go into the sauna

with your lifting buddy when you remember

you gave up weekday oral for Lent.

Hm--

The ever-expanding
Pacific garbage patch.

- Really?

Hey, Lauren, ready for your sound check?

Carl, I am in the grips
of diaphragmic convulsions.

Does it sound like
I'm ready to you?

- Huh.
- Oh, they stopped.

You must be our good luck charm, Carl.

Carl?

Wait.

No.

- What is it?
- But my hiccups did stop

at the exact moment
Carl entered the room.

Oh, shit.

I don't understand.

Oh.

Oh, no!

Are you okay?

My body is racist.

- What?
- My body was more scared

of an African American man

than the entire
Pacific garbage patch.

Okay.

Lauren, just because they stopped

doesn't mean--

Ring, ring.

- Uh--
- Ring, ring, Barb.

Hello?

Hi, it's racism,

and I'm calling from inside the house.

Should I act like
I'm still on the phone?

If racism can exist inside my body,

it can exist literally anywhere.

Not just pickup trucks, but Subarus.

Not just Cracker Barrels, but Sweetgreen.

No way, not Sweetgreen.

None of us are safe.

I bet all your bodies are racist too.

Look.

Fabian has appropriated

Black culture with her dreadlock.

It's a rattail.

Oh-hoh!
So I guess

Black people are rat people to you.

Barb treats Chase like
he's her personal geisha.

- How?
- What's a geisha?

Carl won't even hang out
with me on a Friday

or, say,
Saturday or Sunday night

because the racial tension is too immense.

That's half right.

Friends, if we don't process this,

we could have a race riot on our hands.

Today, we are the story.

It's new journalism.

Gonzo, baby.

Hunter S. Thompson once
threatened me with a knife.

Lauren, what are you suggesting?

Will we win a Peabody?
Maybe.

I don't care about that, Barb.

What I care about is bridging

these unbridgeable divides live on air.

It is time for a racial roundtable.

- Damn it.
- I knew it.

Lauren, no.

Not again.

Judging a person based
on the color of their skin

is wrong and should not be tolerated.

Now let me play

devil's advocate, city boy.

No, this time will be different.

It won't just be me.

Oh, I-I love it.

I-I'll do my review of "The Help."

Oh, I'm not sure that's--

Emma Stone shines in
an otherwise lackluster--

♪ Did you happen to see ♪

♪ The most beautiful girl in the world? ♪

Oh, that's mine.

Hello?

Uh, maybe.
Who-who's calling?

Hosanna!

You don't know how long
I've waited for this call.

N-no, I don't care about the color.

I-I can be there in ten minutes.

They found a foreskin donor!

Gross.
I'm also leaving.

I have a preinterview to do.

I thought you were
boycotting the preinterview.

If you hadn't made that fascist rule

that I can only boycott one thing a day,

I'd skip both.

Enjoy the shit show.

Carl, we're gonna need a few mics.

Chase, the round table, please.

Lauren, we can't.

We have a guest booked.

Huh.
That's really too bad

'cause I was just thinking that
if I were to do the roundtable,

it would zap so much of my energy

that I-I wouldn't possibly
have the bandwidth

to use these two
David Sedaris tickets.

- Oh, my God.
- David Sedaris.

But it's sold out.

Mm, that's right,

a sold out reading at Town Hall.

There's a world in which

I'd be forced to give them
to someone who appreciates

his irreverent tales of English
provincial life as much as I.

- Oh.
- Hm.

♪ We shall overcome someday ♪

Earlier today, to my deep dismay,

my anti-racist mind discovered

that my body still has work to do.

So today's "In The Know" will be dedicated

to a racial roundtable.

In order to decenter my whiteness,

I will speak only as narrator.

I've gathered a melting pot
of voices from our community

to discuss, to educate,
and just maybe to heal.

Whoo!

Whoo!

Unfortunately, in order
to do this vital work,

we had to cancel our scheduled guest,

a young African American writer
whose name escapes me,

as does the title of her debut novel.

But I'm sure whoever she is,

she is raising up a fist in solidarity.

I understand.
This should have been

run through the proper channels.

O-of course
I remember last time.

The fight clock is
brought to you by Modelo.

Um, okay, first off,

you should know
I don't want to be here.

I think MMA is evil.

And if I could be a conscientious objector

to this interview, I would.

Wow. I-I'm sorry,
I didn't catch your name.

What was it again?

Fabian.

Hi, Fabian.

I'm Jorge.

Why do you think MMA is evil?

Uh, because it celebrates
Cro-Magnon aggression

and then abandons these brutes as soon

as they've been physically
and mentally enfeebled,

all to line the pockets
of old, white billionaires.

Uh, I can see that.

It's definitely not perfect.

Uh...

No, it's not.

I think it's hard to find a job,

especially nowadays,

that's not connected to,
like, something dirty

or some dirty money
or something, you know?

But that could just be a cop-out of mine.

Well, what do you think?

- Uh, I--
- I don't know.

Hey, maybe I'm just mentally enfeebled.

I don't want to do this.

Carl expresses off-mic that he wishes

conversations like this weren't necessary.

The narrator agrees.

But they both know what
they're doing is important.

They share a very soulful look.

I'm so sorry.

Mm.

Sensing Carl needs a moment,

Chase, our Asian American intern...

What up, what up, what up?

Recounts a time he's been othered.

Totally.

What is othered?

Uh, treated differently
because of how you look.

Oh.

Man, that happens all the time.

Mm.
Please share.

Well, sometimes I'll just

be minding my own business,

and a stranger will tell me
I'm beautiful

and offer to buy me something expensive.

Mm.

Wait. No.

- No, that's not what I want.
- Oh.

Othered, othered.

Okay.
Well, one time,

I was in a Prada store.

Mm.

And I noticed the security guard kept

following me around.

Oh, horrendous.

Turns out he was actually
just working up the courage

to ask me out
to see Maroon five unplugged.

Chase, finished shilly-shallying,

works up the courage to share an instance

of what we actually want here,
which is racism.

Oh, wait,
I've got a good one.

Last spring, this sunglass company was

picking a new brand ambassador.

It was between me
and this super hot white guy.

And they chose the white guy.

- Nope.
- Damn it.

Chase, they can't see you.

Oh, right.

Chase puts on dope shades.

I'm the narrator.

At the "clurb" or in the pool,

En Fuego Frames are always cool.

I'm sorry, did you just
do product placement

during our racial reckoning?

- Hell yeah!
- Chase, I don't--

This one goes out to all
my thick women out there--

And fellas.

I like them big cakes.

Carl, realizing that the time has come,

finally shares his story.

My name is Carl.

I'm the engineer here at the station.

Uh, Carl elaborates, giving the audience

important context about who he is.

Sure.

I like cross-country skiing
and hard science fiction.

And you know, physically.

I could stand to lose a few pounds.

Well, for example,
I am, unfortunately,

a cis white man,

whereas, you are...

You tell me.

I'd rather not.

Let's try a-a different tack.

If you were a musician, who would you be?

- Steely Dan.
- No.

Let's say you were a history month.

- Which--
- Maritime History Month.

That's not--
What--what month is that?

- February.
- No, that's--

That's what?

Okay, finish this sentence.

- Sure.
- Say it loud,

"I'm blank and I'm proud."

An Aquarius.

You know what
I'm proud about, Lauren?

It better be something Asian.

In a way, it is.

En Fuego Frames are 100% legit
Chinese plastic,

manufactured in the Bangladesh.

What is legit
Chinese plastic?

You know if you know.

Okay.
The narrator realizes

he has been going about this
the wrong way.

What are you doing?

I'm code-switching.

It's time to change the paradigm.

It is Lauren who is now
code-switching to Carl.

Thanks, Lauren.

I feel like I'm in Harlem.

- It's very relaxing.
- No, no, no, no.

On-mic, Carl, please.

I have no meniscus on either knee.

So, like, every fight was
getting into, like,

a car crash and surviving a plane wreck.

Try living with slothful ribosomes

and prepartum depression.

I had the first case
of adult shaken baby syndrome.

This is on paper.
You could look this up.

The doctor described my brain as "juicy."

I've been diagnosed
with phantom testicle syndrome,

baker's neck, and an acute case
of the splats.

I was once legally dead for 28 minutes.

Do you understand what this means?

For 28 minutes,
I was with Genghis Khan

getting all types of wisdom.

And the last thing he told me
is, "Go back and conquer."

And here I am.

Not bad.

I'm sorry you're in pain, Fabian.

I'm sorry you are too.

Let's try this.

Carl, who would you say is
your best friend?

Hm.
I guess that would be Dante.

Ah, yes, Dante.

Dant-ay. Finally.

How do you two speak about the racism

you experience out in the world?

The racism he experiences?

Ha! Not Dante's white ass.

- But--
- I'm confused.

Dante is white?

He'd want me to specify he's Italian.

But Italian is white!

Apologies.

I'd just assumed Dante was
a Nubian king like yourself.

You know who doesn't see race?

Most blind people.

- En Fuego Frames--
- Chase--

Perfect for you blind homies out there.

Carl, I'm sure Dante was
a-a Slim Shady type,

nursed on Mountain Dew Code Red

with only Insane Clown Posse
as his lullabies.

Dante and I met in Philosophy 101

our freshman year at Dartmouth.

- What?
- We got into a shouting match

about Kant's categorical imperative,

and we've been best friends ever since.

All right, so Dante and you are friends

like you and I are friends.

You and I are colleagues.

Oh-hoh!
Dante just texted me right now.

Dante has your personal phone number?

- Of course.
- Okay, I guess

then I'm just confused
about why I don't have

your personal phone number
because I'd assumed

it was because of the racial divide.

Want to know who my best friend is?

- God, no.
- God, yes.

It's Jesus Christ.

And he said, "Love thine enemies

and pray for those who persecute you."

Okay, fine.
We'll go with it, Chase.

What do you think
Jesus would say

about America's racial crisis?

Well, Jesus was from Egypt, right?

Middle East.

And there's a lot of sun there.

Right, so he was probably,

you know, African American.

Don't know, but he definitely needs

to protect those God eyes
with En Fuego Shades.

Why are you doing this?

Hold up, wait up.

Meaghan screamed at you
in front of everybody

because you asked about her mom and dad?

I made an offensive assumption

about her family structure.

She--she had, like, the same-sex parents?

No, but she could have.

She was right to shame me.

Ouch.

That's crazy.

I have nightmares sometimes
where I accidentally say

"master bedroom" in front of Meaghan.

You know,

I got this, like, recurring nightmare

where I go surfing in Hawaii

and these dolphins try to, like,

initiate me in their gang.

But that ain't gonna be me, right?

So I merk 'em all up.

And then I wake up immediately.

And I feel so bad though,
'cause of these dolph--

I love dolphins.

I would never.

No, I-I know, Jorge.

I know you'd never merk a dolphin.

Never.

My daughter might like these.

Hell yeah.

They're the preferred sunglasses

of social cocaine users.

Never mind.

Carl, please focus.

Everyone is confused
about why I don't have

your personal phone number.

Lauren, I think we've
gotten a little off track.

Yeah, no shit, Barb!

Because of Chase's fucking sunglasses!

I'm not sure you not having
Carl's phone number

has anything to do with racism.

It has everything to do with racism.

This isn't about the Peabody anymore.

You can keep it
if it's so important to you.

This is about Carl
and I laying ourselves bare,

naked and afraid.

Together, we're making
huge racial progress.

But you don't want that, do you, Barb?

Why wouldn't I want that?

Classic white man shit.

The more you divide
Carl and me,

the more you can control our minds.

But not today, Barb,
because we are America too.

Hold my hand, Carl.

Carl, your hand.

Let's confront the white devil, Carl!

Let's speak truth to power.

- Who's the white devil?
- Barb!

- Barb and I are friends.

Don't tell me she has your phone number.

What?
How? Why?

She's kind and calm and hyper-competent.

She's an incredible woman.

I'm an incredible woman!

Hm.

And Barb's really hot,
physically speaking.

Oh, thank God, a caller.

Hello, caller.
You're on the air.

Oh, oh, it-it's Sandy.

Uh, m-my penis is about to be put under.

But the doctor says
I need someone

to come pick me up after, so--

I've never been able to cry.

The sport makes you numb.

And at this sport,
I've excelled.

So you know, I don't even know
what that emotion's like.

For as long as I can remember,
my name has been Gamebred.

They expect me to do one thing,

to--to be a dog from the street and kill.

So crying is--is not even,
like, in the menu, you know?

Jorge, look at me.

Street dogs deserve love.

And so do you.

Maybe I don't.

You do.

You're beautiful, Jorge.

This has been life-changing, Lauren.

But I think it's time to wrap things up.

I just Venmo-ed you $1,619, Carl.

What? Why?

Reparations.

It's $1 for every year of slavery.

$1 for every year of slavery
would be 1865 minus 1619.

If slavery were really over,

but do you feel like a free man?

Not currently, no.

I don't know what to do here, Carl,

so I'm throwing money at the situation.

Are you sure you Venmo-ed me?

I didn't get anything.

What?
I'm looking at your name.

Mm, he spells Carl with a C.

- Since when?
- Since always.

Fuck!

Lauren, you're still on the air.

Mistaken reparations.
Please return.

Return reparations immediately.

Don't want to have to get
law enforcement involved.

Oh, you're calling law enforcement

on the Black person you sent the Venmo to?

Uh!

This motherfucker just liked
the transaction.

This is the worst
Yogurt Week ever.

And I thought last month's was terrible.

Carl, I am not one to cast blame.

- That's for the best.
- But I can't help thinking

that if I had had your phone number,

I wouldn't have sent reparations

to the wrong Black person.

And now you're owed reparations

for your reparations.

Slavery's evil knows no end.

Karl with a K just requested more money.

No!

God!

Fabian, you can cry.

I can't.

You can.

And trust me, believe me,
it feels amazing.

I just fucking can't, okay?

What are we even doing here, Jorge?

I'm just some girl with a rattail

and an immune system
that's declared war on itself.

I--I am picky.

I am difficult.

I'm a pescatarian.

I'm allergic to most seasons.

If you and I knew each other in real life,

you would walk all over me.

Fabian.

Don't push me away because
we're both feeling vulnerable.

We should wrap up.

This was just another stupid preinterview.

No.

This was the interview.

It only took me five seconds
to knock out Ben Askren.

Just because a moment is brief

doesn't mean it's not wonderful.

Agh!

A system that keeps us from being friends

and defrauds me of $1,600

is a system that must burn!

Yes!
En Fuego time.

Put these on.

- Nice.
- The narrator realizes

it's time for a race riot!

Rosa sat so Martin could walk.

Martin walked so I could
destroy my own office!

Yeah!

Ah!

Ah--oh, no.

Lauren,

stop acting like a baby.

No! Uh!

Uh, watch the wires, Lauren.

Well, maybe it's time
to cut the wires, Carl,

the wires of systemic racism.

Those are expensive.

I don't give a rat's ass.

This is for redlining.

Lauren.

This is for Elvis.

Enough.

If I give you my number,
will that end this?

Racism?

Yes.

I promise.

Fine.
I'll give it to you.

Just stop messing with my equipment.

Yes!

I knew this roundtable was a good idea.

Could--could someone help me get down?

It's just a high table.

I'm not ready to say goodbye.

Neither am I.

I'll never forget this,
Fabian.

I-it was really nice
meeting you a-and, uh, yeah.

Uh--wait. Jorge?

Yeah?

Your neck pain, uh,
you might have what doctors

will soon wake up and call "bone soup."

I run an online forum for the afflicted,

you know, if you ever want to join.

Maybe I'll see you there.

I would love that.

Bone soup.

I'm really sorry
I said yes to the roundtable.

I was blinded by my love of Sedaris.

It's okay.

It did go better than the first one.

I feel horrible you gave Lauren

your personal phone number.

It's fine.

You probably don't feel like
going to see David Sedaris

with me tonight, do you?

Oh.

Uh, well--

My body is rejecting the foreskin.

Oh, Sandy, your penis.

I'll get some ice.