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Ladies and gentlemen,

make some noise for Ronny Chieng!

Thank you.

Thank you, Hawaii!

I'm turning 38, so I'm harvesting
my wife's eggs this year.

I'm harvesting my wife's eggs
so that we can make embryos,

so we can freeze the embryos,

so that we do not have to have kids
right now because kids are what you have

when you've given up
on your own hopes and dreams.

I'm still trying here!

I look at my friends
who are my age who have kids,

and they all look like shit.

It's gotten to the point
where I can't even take a photo with them

and post it on my main grid

because it messes up
the aesthetics of my Instagram too much.

With their fucking haggard faces.

Just drooping,
wrinkly crow's-feet-embedded heads.

Receding hairlines.

Just withering, graying hair
coming out in clumps.

Because of their children.

Like, I did a show,

and someone I went to high school with
in Singapore came to the show,

and after the show, I met up with them,
and they brought another person with them,

and I was like,
"Oh, is this other person your mom?"

"Thank you so much
for bringing your mother to my show."

And that other person was also
someone I went to high school with.

That's how fucking ugly...

...these people have become

because of their children.

Just unrecognizable.

So I'm trying to use money and science
to push the curve back a little bit.

And, um, first step
of harvesting my wife's eggs is,

I have to inject my wife
twice a day for two weeks.

So, I have to inject my wife.

I am the one injecting my wife
twice a day for two weeks.

Zero medical training.

I was given
no medical training whatsoever.

The government lets you do this.

The-- The doctor asked me to do it.

The doctor was like, "Hey,
have you ever held a needle before?"

"No? Perfect, here, take this,

and inject your wife
in the middle of her body,

like Nicolas Cage in The Rock."

"Twice a day for two weeks
with chemicals that we mail to you."

"Mystery chemicals
that we send to your house

in unmarked brown boxes."

"Just trust us that it's the right thing

that you're injecting
into the person you love the most."

Internet chemicals that show up--
It comes in a powder!

I have to make it into a liquid,
you understand?

It's a meth lab in my kitchen
as I'm mixing... the comp--

I'm sweating the whole time

'cause I'm scared I'll fuck up
the measurements and kill my wife

with these powerful pharmaceuticals

that you dissolve it in distilled water
completely, then you have to, like--

The air bubbles are fucking up
the micro millimeter measurements.

And then you have to
put it in the syringe.

Then you have to flick the needle
with a positive attitude

like you know what you're doing.

I don't know what I'm doing!

I saw someone do this on Doogie Howser.

I don't even know
the angle to put it into her.

Like, it looks
so painful going in, like--

I love my wife so much
I can't even bear to watch her in pain.

I couldn't even bear
to watch the needle go into her.

I had to inject my wife like this.

I had to, like, cover my eyes,
and, like, backhand it...

...into her like Kurosawa.

"Did I get the middle of your body?"

"No?"

"Okay, just walk into the needle!"

"I'm supposed to do all the work here?
Meet me halfway."

And, uh, the doctor said,
"If you do everything right,

if you... measure correctly,
you inject at the right times,

they scan, like, this part of her body,
you know, that Chicago Bulls logo.

Right? And they were like...

..."If you do everything right,

based on what we can tell,

you should expect 15 eggs."

And my wife ended up getting 26.

Yeah. Always a...

Yeah, always like a late,
half-hearted response to...

Usually, the women in the crowd
are like, "Whoo, yeah."

All the men in the crowd are always like...

"Is that a good number?"

"Is 26 a good number of eggs?"

"How many eggs equal one bebe?"

"Is it four eggs is one bebe?"

"So 26 eggs is six and a half bebes
if you squish it together..."

Let me put this in a language
that men can understand, okay?

Twenty-six eggs from one vagina,
in one cycle, is MVP numbers.

Twenty-six eggs is like,

if Magic Johnson averaged
the triple-double and killed his own AIDS.

Okay? That's the level
of medical miracle that's happening

in whatever this part of my wife's body,

that horn of the bull
that, like, curls into itself.

The doctor, like, scraped out 26 eggs

out of my wife's vagina, like salmon roe.

Just scooping out.

Just dripping out, and then you put it
in some nigiri, right?

And then you eat it.

That's how babies are made.

You gotta Salt Bae the eggs
onto the ikura, and then you eat it.

So, uh, we're trying to make embryos.

So, eggs, that's just half the equation.

I don't know if you know
how embryos are made,

but eggs, that's just half of it.

She did her part admirably.

So now I have to contribute
my half of the embryo equation.

So I'm sitting in the doctor's office.

Like a wet pigeon, all right?

And the doctor comes over.

And the doctor's a woman
because of course she is.

She's like, "Good morning, Mr. Chieng."

"So, um, when's the last time
you ejaculated?"

My wife is right here,

and she's like, "Yeah,
when is the last time you ejaculated?"

"We would all like to know."

It's the one time in life where you're
not allowed to lie about jerking off.

It's when a medical professional
is asking you a direct question.

And it's for reproduction.

It's for the intended purpose,
so you gotta tell the truth.

So I'm like,
"Whatever, I'll tell the truth."

"Uh, let me check my calendar, uh..."

"I guess the last time
I ejaculated was, um..."

"Let me see...
Uh, yesterday, around 3:00 p.m."

And my wife is like,

"Yesterday...

I was with you all day."

And I was like, "Yeah, but remember
when you took out the trash?"

Because I also put up MVP numbers.

Against a shot clock.

And heavy defensive pressure.

But I was thinking of you the whole time.

It's really hot the way you carried out
that dripping garbage bag

full of fish sauce
or whatever Vietnamese people eat.

My wife is Vietnamese.
I've no idea what the fuck she eats.

Nước mắm.

And I went into the room in the hospital
you go to jerk off.

It's the medical jerking-off room.

Every hospital
has a medical jerking-off room.

Okay? It's nondescript,
not a lot of signage.

Smaller than I think it should be.

Lots of crinkly tracing paper
under your butt.

And I'm sitting
in a medical jerking-off room.

By myself.

And there's grown men outside the door,
waiting for me to finish...

...so they, too,
can use the medical jerking-off room

that we are sharing like a WeWork.

And I'm in a medical
jerking-off room by myself.

And...

I couldn't go!

Okay? Sorry!

Sorry for not being a pervert who can just
jerk off in hospitals on demand.

I'm sorry!

Sorry for not being a sex offender

who can just jerk off
as people are dying above me and below me!

Sorry!

Sorry the thought of someone
getting defibrillated back into life

in the adjoining operating theaters,
as they code to death painfully,

and the families
crying in the waiting room

wasn't turning me on.

So I couldn't go. I couldn't go.

So I just call 911, right?
I'm like...

I'm like, "These people are forcing me
to medically ejaculate

in a completely sterile room."

Uh, I call the doctor back in,
and I'm like, "Doc, I can't go."

"Okay? I can't medically ejaculate
under these circumstances."

"The vibes are off."

"Let me go home. Let me go home
to medically ejaculate. Can I do that?"

And the doctor's like,
"Yeah, you can go home,

but, you know,
as soon as it comes out of your body,

it expires quicker
than avocados in Hawaii, alright?"

"You've got..."

"You have, like, a 45-minute window

before there's like an exponential
decreasing probability of..."

I'm like, "Okay, fine."

"I'll go home, I'll medically ejaculate,
I'll come back in 45 minutes, no problem."

So I go home, open the front door,
ejaculate immediately.

Alright? This is...

Alright? This is home court advantage.

I know where everything is,
I know what's behind me.

I look at the dripping garbage bag.

It's like a Pavlovian response
at this point. Um...

I ejaculate into a cup.

Okay? It's a cup that they gave me.

It's not a fucking coffee mug
from my kitchen.

That says, "World's Best Dad" on it.

It's the cup
that they use-- doctors give you

to test your pee for drugs.

It's got a really tight cap, right?
So, I ejaculate into the cup.

It keeps overflowing,
so I gotta keep, like, pouring it out.

Just overwhelming amounts.

It's like Ghostbusters 2 up in here.

I fill it to the brim,
and then I scrape off the top, and then I...

And then I seal the cap
as tight as I can, right?

Get it really nice and tight.

And then I-- I put it inside my T-shirt,

next to my skin, under my armpit.

Nice and snug.

Because the doctor told me to do that.

Because apparently, like the Titanic,

your body heat
will keep your people alive.

And then I run downstairs,
and I jump into a New York City taxi,

and I'm like, "Take me
to Langone Hospital, please. Hurry up."

The taxi driver is like, "What the fuck
are you doing with your hand?"

"Are you okay?"

I'm like, "Oh, yeah, no, I'm fine."

"No, it's not me. It's my-- my wife.
She's wait-- A person... It's my jizz."

And New York City taxis
have seen much worse.

So, the taxi driver was like,
"Oh, okay, cool."

"Thank you for using a cup."

"Unlike the last two dudes
who were back there."

Just raw dogging at the JFK,
you know what I'm saying?

And, uh, we get to the--
we get to the hospital, right?

I open the taxi door.
I run into the hospital.

And because it's New York City,
someone on the sidewalk is like,

"Hey, yo! Hey, yo!"

"Were you that guy in Shang-Chi?"

"Am I... Yes, I was a minor character
in the Marvel movie Shang-Chi,

not the main guy."

And the guy's like,
"Yo! Yo! Can I get a photo with you?"

And I'm like,

"Okay, sure."

So, we take a photo like this.

So, someone on the internet
has a photo of me and this stranger.

And I'm doing this.

Like Napoleon.

If you ever come across this photo,
just know I am holding my own jizz.

So feel free to tag it.

He was very grateful.
He was like, "Aw, thanks so much, man."

And I was like, "No problem, man."
I shake his hand, right?

Because I love meeting my fans.

And I run into the hospital, right?
Already hitting the 45-minute mark.

End of the fourth quarter.
There's no time left on the clock.

So I just take my jizz
and I just throw a buzzer-beater.

Right? The doctor, like,
catches my jizz, like...

Like Odell Beckham.
She just, like, one hand, grabs it,

and, like, in the same motion,
without even putting it down,

she, like, alley-oops my jizz
into my wife's eggs, right?

Just takes it, and she goes,
"Boom, shaka-laka!"

And, uh, my sperm goes
into my wife's eggs,

and then nobody knows what happens
when sperm goes into the egg.

Nobody knows. It's a mystery.

It's a mystery of the universe.
Nobody knows.

When sperm goes into the egg,
it's unknowable. Ooh, it's...

It's like the event horizon
on a black hole.

No one can know what happens
when sperm goes into the egg.

Sometimes, nothing happens.

When sperm goes into the egg,
sometimes, it becomes a bubble tea.

Nobody knows where bubble tea comes from.

It's "tapioca."

The sperm goes into the egg,
and then you shake it,

and you go to Vegas,
you throw it on the crap table...

And if you're lucky,
if you get a good dice roll, right?

It becomes a blastocyst.

That's what we call
future humans, blastocysts.

It becomes embryos.

The doctor, she'll take all the embryos

and she'll look at them
under the microscope,

and she'll grade the embryos.

Like cocaine.

She'll be like, "Ooh, yeah, these ones?
These are A-grade embryos right here."

"These ones, these are-- these are
B-grade embryos, so-- so I don't know."

"These-- These ones?
These are C-grade embryos..."

"Oh, and these ones?"

"Yeah, these-- these are--
These are D-grade embryos."

"Yeah, these... These will storm
the Capitol someday." Alright? So...

You don't want that.

And then...

And then you have to, like,
draft pick your kids

based on scouting reports and analytics.

And you don't know.
You're just projecting data.

You just hope you're not throwing away
a Tom Brady in the 12th round

that's going to overcome the odds
and become the greatest of all time

because you can't measure
the human spirit.

And, uh, we all like to think
we're good people in this room,

but we're all picking
the A-grade embryos, okay?

No one here is not picking
your A-grade embryos if given a choice.

Even if you were a B-grade embryo.

You would still pick your A-grade embryos.

Because you'll be like,
"I know what it's like."

"I'm not putting my kids
through this B-grade human existence,

with sweaty palms and sciatica."

"Give me the A-grade shit.
Give me the best we could do."

"Give my kid a fighting chance."

And it got me thinking about the future
a little bit because I never wanted kids.

I never thought I would have kids.

The only thing I ever wanted to do
my whole life was this.

Stand-up comedy in America.

It's the best.

Look at this. It's the best.

You are cheering because you know
this is way better than having kids.

So much more fun and lucrative.

Well, the blastocysts are real now.

There's eight of them
waiting for me in the cloud.

Um...

33% chance of successful
implantation with grade-A embryos.

So, I guess that makes me
a mass murderer in Alabama.

It got me thinking about the future.
What kind of parent am I gonna be?

Am I gonna be
the same kind of parent my parents were,

or am I gonna be better
than my parents were?

Be more emotionally supportive

or whatever the fuck
you're supposed to be now, and...

Thinking about it, turns out I'm gonna be
just as bad as my parents were.

I can-- I can feel it.
I can feel it inside me.

I can feel the--
I can feel the Chinese inside me.

I can just feel that high expectation,
just low tolerance for excuses.

It's in here. It's right in here.
It's like the default app.

You know, you can't delete
the calculator app. There's no "X."

When you shake it, there's no "X."

You can move it off the home screen,
but it's still in the OS, embedded.

In the operating system,
I can feel the Chinese.

If my blastocyst was real,
if it entered this reality,

and it turned to be
the cutest blastocyst ever.

"Oh my God, look at this blastocyst."

"Everybody, look.
Look at how beautiful this blastocyst is."

"I love you so much, blastocyst."

"I love you much more
than I thought I would."

And your blastocyst
is hugging you back, right, they're like...

"I love you too, Daddy."

"Daddy, Daddy."

"When I grow up,
I want to be a stand-up comedian."

"Just like you."

I just feel the Chinese coming on, right?

I just...

You take your glasses off
like Hitler in the bunker.

"Stand-up comedy?
Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

"That's not even a real job!"

"What do you think is gonna happen?"

"Just gonna run around America
and tell jokes to strangers

who don't give a fuck
about your mental health?"

"And even if you do somehow
manage to overcome the odds,

and make it to even
a semi-professional level

as a stand-up comedian,

do you think there's any chance in hell
you'll be funnier than me?!"

"Dad is a borderline arena act
in some markets!"

"Have you seen my IMDb page?"

"I'm in everything!
I will fucking crush your career!"

Osoto gari!

"Your mother and I just spent a fortune
to make an A-grade blastocyst

for them to become a B-grade comedian."

"I will never watch anything you do."

"Go to law school!"

Is what my father said to me.

I do think it's tough
for straight men in 2024

to sincerely look up
self-improvement on the internet

without five weeks later
storming the Capitol, okay?

That men's self-help YouTube algorithm
is very unkind to straight men right now.

Okay? I'm not saying
it's the biggest problem in the world.

Clearly.

But it is a problem, okay?

Because men were genetically predisposed
to seek self-improvement.

Okay? We're trying
to be better people every day.

Believe it or not, women.

Once we hit a certain age, okay?

Usually we die before then.

Through suicide or environmental factors.

BMX biking, dietary choices...

But if you can live long enough as a man,

you hit this age where suddenly
you become very introspective, okay?

You start seeking guidance
from outside sources.

You start looking at watches.

Like-- Like every man in this room has
or will at some point.

We've all been there.
Guys, we've all done this.

We've all looked in the mirror
at some point in our lives.

And we've been like,

"What a fucking piece of shit."

"I fucking hate this loser."

"Look at this loser."

"Fuck this loser. I hate this person."

"I need to be a better person."

"Let me start by getting fit."

"Let me work on my health."

"That seems like a logical place
to start my journey."

"Let me control
what I can control in here."

So what do you do as a man?
You go on YouTube, right?

You look up how to lift weights.

Right? You press "Enter."
You click on the first video.

It's some guy
doing kettlebell swings, right?

He'll teach you how to lock your core
so you don't break your fucking spine.

And then you do that for two days.

- You feel pretty good about yourself.
- Whoo!

Right? And on the third day,

the same YouTube channel
has a new video notification alert,

The men are like, "What's this new video
from kettlebell-swinging guy?"

"What could he be doing in his new video?"

In the video, the kettlebell-swinging guy,
he's doing the new kettlebell exercise.

"The lawnmower."

He's doing that. And then,
like 30 seconds into the video,

he just, suddenly, just stops.

And he looks really sad.

And he puts the kettlebell down.

And he looks straight into the camera.

And he's like,

"Yo, guys, just real talk
for a second, all right?"

"Kettlebells are great,
but I just want you guys to know

that a healthy body
starts with a healthy mind."

And all the men watching this are like,

"Yeah."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"That feels right, in here."

"Tell me more, kettlebell-swinging guy."

"What other advice do you have
for all areas of my life?"

"Including my relationships
and financial investments."

"Please give me guidance,
kettlebell-swinging guy."

So what do you do?
You watch his next video on autoplay.

Then you watch his next video.

Here comes the YouTube algorithm
with a suggested video.

And here comes another suggested video.

And a week later,
Jordan Peterson is telling you

that women use makeup to control men.

Five weeks later, you're storming
the Capitol dressed like a buffalo.

That's a very realistic
sequence of events, by the way.

That's not even an exaggerated timeline.

Every man in this room
has lost a buddy to the algorithm.

We all know someone
who lost their fucking mind

on that men's self-help,
Andrew Tate masculinity,

YouTube self-help algorithm.

If you don't know anyone
who lost their mind...

...you're the one who lost their mind.

You're currently
in an echo chamber of assholes.

'Cause real friends tell you
when you're losing your mind.

It's very tragic.

All these men who are trying
to be better people,

and they're seeking guidance.

But that YouTube feedback algorithm loop

just leads them to be
the worst version of themselves.

There's tragedy in that.

Like all those people.

They were just trying to lift weights.

They weren't trying
to cause an insurrection.

They didn't even know
what that word meant.

They were just trying to do this.

They're trying to do this.

They didn't know what angle
their forearm was supposed to be

vis-à-vis their torso, right?

Is it 90 degrees or 45 degrees?

Like, is that a different exercise
or is that the same reps when you...?

They Googled it one time,
and then, five weeks later,

you're taking a shit
on Nancy Pelosi's desk.

And the US Marshals
are garnishing your wages.

Because you take one wrong turn,
and life moves pretty quick!

I'm not saying, as a man, don't take
responsibility for your own actions.

Okay? I'm just saying
that YouTube algorithm

is very alluring to straight guys.

It-- It sucks men in in a way
that I don't think women understand.

It really preys on that men's need
to seek guidance from somewhere.

It's very hard to resist.
It just draws-- draws you in.

That's why fucking Mark Zuckerberg is
trying to MMA fight Elon Musk right now.

That guy fell for his own algorithm.

Do you understand?

Mark Zuckerberg
was just some fucking nerd.

And for, like, 20 years now,
he's just been looking at our data, right?

Jerking off every single day.
Just looking at our data, jerking off.

Money piling up. Billions of dollars.

Data. Jerking off.

Money, money, jerking off, data.
For 20 years, that loop.

And who knew after two decades of that,
one day, he just looked at so much data,

he was like, "Oh shit, oh shit."

He fell into it.
Now he's trying to MMA-fight Elon Musk.

That guy jerked off
and came on his own face.

Like, it's out of control.

Zuckerberg is a billionaire

who has every material need
you could want in this reality.

And he invented that shit,
and he still fell for it.

What hope does the average man
in America have?

Just walking-- Just waddling
down the street

looking-- looking for a taco on his phone.

He's gonna get sucked into his phone.
He has no chance.

That fucking guy has no chance.

Because even the good guys in this room...

we're all, like, on a razor's edge

to being a piece of shit, okay?

That margin between a good guy
and a piece of shit is razor-thin.

I gotta tell you.

If you have the means, every day is
just a battle to stay on that nice edge.

And you know what?

An Instagram post
could push it either way!

Okay? It depends on the post.

Was it cute animals or was it boobs?

That's gonna determine your integrity
for the next six hours.

I do think, as a society, we need to, uh,

do a better job of identifying,

like, when we have a disagreement
with someone who's

genuinely trying to have
a good-faith discussion

to reach higher understanding,

and who's just talking shit.

We are spending too much time
on the people who are just talking shit,

and we're not spending enough time
on the people who are genuinely

trying to have difficult conversations
about difficult topics.

Like, for example,

me, right now,

I'm just talking shit, okay?

This is one-way shit-talking.

I don't care about any of your opinions.
Do not send me any of them. I do not care.

You paid for me.
I didn't pay a cent for any of you, okay?

Free market capitalism
has determined the direction

of this shit-talking session.

If you don't like it,
take it out on Adam Smith.

But if I was having a conversation
with someone I disagree with,

in good faith,

I would probably start that conversation
with what we do agree with.

That'd be a logical place
to start a difficult conversation.

For example, MAGA.
Make America Great Again.

They have a point.
America's not doing so great right now.

Right? Our kids' math scores are down.

Our children's science scores are down.

When judged according
to international metrics, uh,

healthcare systems not doing so great.

Wealth gap disparities
increasing exponentially.

There was an implied promise
to a generation of Americans

that if you do certain things, work hard,
go to college, be a good person,

you would have certain outcomes.

And those outcomes didn't materialize
for the majority of people

because baby boomers entrenched
in decision-making positions

lowered the capital gains tax...

...so that their net worth
essentially compounds year after year.

In post-World War II, US leadership

traded the domestic manufacturing industry
for National Security

by making the US dollar
the default international trade currency,

which gave America the ability to impose
economic sanctions on foreign countries

to a US financial banking system,

but consequently increased the value
of the US dollar astronomically,

which made it impossible for anyone
to manufacture anything in America.

Although the logic at the time...

...was that Americans
were supposed to upskill en masse,

away from the menial manufacturing jobs,

but everyone here's too much
of a dumbass to stay school,

so we just traded domestic manufacturing
to Asia and the rest of the world

at the expense of working-class families.

But if you don't read enough...

...it comes out as, "Let's go, Brandon!"

And it's like, you have a point,

but you don't have the vocabulary
to describe your reality

because you didn't read enough.
You gotta keep reading beyond the hashtag.

There's a book behind the word.
You gotta keep going.

You can go at your own pace,
but you gotta finish the required reading.

Otherwise, we can't have a conversation.
We're all catching up to each other.

I'm friends with MAGA.
I'm friends with the MAGAs.

- Some of them are my good friends.
- Whoo!

Yeah.

Hawaii MAGA.

The friendliest of all MAGA.

Aloha MAGA.

They're in Hawaii right now,
Making Aloha Great Again.

I became friends with them

because I filmed two seasons
of a TV show in Hawaii,

Doogie Kameāloha, on Disney+.

MAGA Hawaii welcomed me into their homes.

"Ronny, please, come over.
Please, we're having a barbecue."

"We'd love you to meet the family,
meet the ohana, please."

"We'd love to have you over."

So gracious. You show up,
they're so warm and welcoming.

"Thanks for coming.
Take whatever you want."

"There's some Kalua pork,
there's some loco mocos, hot dogs."

"Hey. Here. Here."

"Touch my gun."

"Touch it. Just touch-- Just take it."

I'm always like, "I... I don't want
to touch any of these guns, okay?"

"I don't know where they've been.
I don't know where they're going."

"I don't have time in my schedule
to attend depositions."

"Just give me the loco moco."

Very passionate people, my MAGA friends.

And I respect their passion
to some extent.

I do. They're like, "I love America.
I would die for this country."

And I believe them.
I believe they love America,

and I believe they would die
for this country, which is very admirable.

But it's like, man, you are willing
to die for your country.

Why aren't you willing to learn math?

Also for your country, like...

Like, do both for your country.

I know you wanna die for your country,

but we're losing the engineering jobs
to Asia right now.

So if you... We need
less people to die for their country.

We need more people to do
their homework for their country.

Like, do your homework for your country.

Like, actually sit down
and show the work, and, like, do the...

That's a more efficient way
to show your patriotism.

If you take that "I want to die" energy
and you put it into homework,

you will fucking top the school,
I'm telling you.

It's...

Sky's the limit.

Dude, you'll-- you'll solve
a lot of problems,

you'll create a lot of jobs,
you'll increase the GDP.

Just do-- do your homework
for your country.

"I'd rather die!"

I... I thought so. I thought that might be...

I thought that might be the case.

Dying's easy, math is hard.

These quadratic equations
making me suicidal.

Uh, we try not to talk about politics,
my MAGA friends and I,

out of mutual respect.

Inevitably, it comes up.

Some stuff I'm wrong about,
some stuff they're right about,

but sometimes, like,
their messaging is so convoluted.

Like, I can't get
to what their core issue actually is,

because their surface messaging
is so chaotic.

Like, sometimes they're like,
"Ronny, China caused COVID,

but COVID isn't real."

So, is it fine then?
Does it mean it's fine?

I don't know how to feel about it now.

'Cause one minus one is zero.
I don't know what to tell you. The...

The math analogy works for concepts,
not just numbers, you can...

"X" is anything.

Why are you yelling at me about China?
Always yelling at me about China.

"China is doing this. China did
a weather balloon, with a camera."

"China's got
an artificial island in the Pacific

doubling as an aircraft carrier base."

"China's doing TikTok.
Why is China doing TikTok?!"

I don't know.

I'm not from China.

I'm from Malaysia.

I'm from Malaysia, not China.

I'm-- I'm third-generation
Chinese Malaysian.

Malaysia.

You know Michelle Yeoh?
Oscar winner? Malaysia?

Yeah, that's Malaysia.

Sama-sama. Malaysia.
Saya anak Malaysia. Malaysia.

Malaysia, not China. Malaysia.

We are the ones who lost the plane.

Okay?

You guys remember that?

Did you see the documentary on Netflix,
suggested after my special?

You guys see that? That was us.

That was us.
We're the "lose the plane" people.

Okay? We're not the human rights
whatever-- I don't know-- TikTok--

I don't know what that is, okay?

We're the...

"Ah! Where is it?! Where the fuck is it?!"
That's us.

Uh, my-- my MAGA friends all hate US tax.

That's like a universal party platform.
There's different types of MAGA, right?

There's, like, MAGA light,
MAGA concentrated, but, like...

Right, it's unfair to group them
under one banner,

but one uniting party principle is,
"Love America, fuck US tax."

And I get it.

I also hate US tax
now that I'm in the highest bracket.

Yeah, I'm MAGA with that. Fuck US tax.

Yeah, fuck American tax.

Feels good to say it.

Like the words give you power, right?
Fuck US tax.

Fuck American Tax.
You like it? You like it when I say it?

When this fucking foreigner says it?
You like that? Fuck US tax. You like that?

You like it when this accent says that?
Fuck American tax. You like that?

You don't see a discrepancy in energy?

"Love America, USA, USA."

"Fuck US tax."

Put politics aside for just three seconds.
Okay? If it's even possible.

Just for three seconds,
just consider this concept in a vacuum.

Just as an academic exercise, okay?

When you love something,

you give it money.

Right? Like that's one
of the primary ways we show love

for individuals, organizations,
ideas on Kickstarter,

sports teams...
We go like, "Yeah, we give it money."

So when you go, "Love America, USA, USA."

"Fuck US tax." So what are you saying?

You love America so much,
you want it to be poor?

You want your country to be poor?
You want it to be a beggar on the street.

A street beggar. You want your country
to be a street beggar on the street?

I love my mom.

Sometimes I give my mom money.

- Give your mom money sometimes.
- Yeah!

Look how alien this concept is
to white people.

Just...

silence.

Give your mom money sometimes.
"For what?!"

Because she's your Ma.

And you love her, right?

She loves you back, so fucking
cut her off a piece every once in a while.

Probably tore stuff giving birth to you,
cut her a piece of the pie.

Arbitrarily, even. Just give a--
I'm sure your mother would appreciate it.

No matter who your mom is,
how self-accomplished she is,

I'm sure your mom could use it.

Fix the driveway,
invest in infrastructure. Something.

Sometimes Americans treat their country
the way they treat their parents.

Yeah.

"I love my mom.
I love my mom. I would die for my mom."

"But fuck her, she made her choices."

I love being in America.

I do. I love being here.
I had my options. I came here.

I love being in America
because this is the country

that puts show business above everything.

And I am in the business of show business.

So naturally,
I'm gonna come here and do it.

I do this in America, "Fuck America.
Fuck the president. Fuck US tax,"

money, money just comes into...

"Fuck the president."

"He's too old. Fuck this president."
The money comes in.

Money just comes in.

Like printing money.

I do this in Malaysia,
same-- same words, same-- same clothing,

same haircut,
facing the same direction, in Malaysia?

Jail.

Like, the arbitrage value
is out of control.

Same product in different loc--
Obviously, I'll do this here.

Why the fuck would I do it anywhere else?
It's the best.

I think, uh, sometimes people forget
I'm a first-generation immigrant here.

Because my second-generation
or later American friends,

like, their parents were immigrants.

And the way they talk
about their parents is so disrespectful.

And they forget, like,
I'm also an immigrant.

They'll be like, "You know my parents?
They're immigrants."

"You know immigrants. They're so cheap."

Like, "Don't come over. My family's
over this weekend. My parents are here."

"My parents are immigrants.
You know immigrants. Ugh!"

"They're so cheap."

Yo, I want to defend
immigrants here for a second, all right?

Fuck that shit.

Yeah, my mom lives in Singapore.

She is not an immigrant.

She is still extremely cheap.

Okay? Being cheap
is not an immigrant thing.

It's genetic.

Cheap people are cheap.

They're not choosing to be cheap.
It's just inside, it's not a choice.

Chinese baby boomers are cheap
'cause they don't know how to have fun.

They haven't had fun in, like, 50 years.

They, like, forgot the energy of fun.

Like, of all the Asians right now
in the Asian fun hierarchy,

from most fun to least fun,

Chinese baby boomers,
least fun of all the Asians right now.

I can say this. I'm Chinese, okay?
You don't fucking say it.

This is our "N" word.
You don't fucking say it. I say it.

You don't fucking say it.

Least fun-- You don't fucking say it.
Least fun of all the Asians,

Chinese baby boomers.

Right now, of all the Asians,
most fun Asians, uh, the Koreans, okay?

You gotta give it up for the Koreans.

Give it up for the Koreans.

You gotta tip your cap and respect
the back-to-back championships

of the modern-day Koreans

just killing it with the fun
and the pop culture.

They're-- Everyone's--

They've got Blackpink.
They got music. They got BTS.

Dude, BTS is right now in the army
fighting Kim Jong-un.

Do you understand?
BTS is at the DMZ right now, just going...

Just an unstoppable force
of entertainment.

Taking down
countries and dictatorships.

They got, uh-- Koreans got, uh,
the Parasite movie, Oscar-winning.

They got Past Lives.
They got, uh... Crash Landing on You.

Just dominating
the Netflix home page of white people.

Never thought I'd see the day

when white people's homepage
is full of K-drama. Just binging.

Non-stop. They got, uh, Squid Game.

Dude, Koreans have more fun
dying in Squid Game

than Chinese people have at comedy shows.

Chinese people at comedy shows,
they're looking at their phone.

"Do I have to look up?"

"He's here?
Okay, I'm gonna video for six minutes."

Full flash video. This is...

This is how I live in the moment
as a Chinese person.

Koreans, most fun.

Uh, Filipinos know how to have fun.

Yeah, they love having fun, uh...

Vietnamese people know how to have fun.
Cambodians know how to have fun.

Hmong people know how to have fun.
Even Japanese know how to have fun.

In a reserved way.

Outwardly stoic.

Inside, just anime.

Outside, unreadable.
Inside, just the intro to Sailor Moon.

Right? Just...

Outside is just, "Ohayo gozaimasu."

Japanese people have so much fun
sometimes they go straight back to work.

"You're not gonna change your suit?
Just straight into the office? Alright."

Uh...

Everyone knows Chinese baby boomers,
least fun of all the Asians.

Because for Chinese baby boomers,
their primary directive in life is,

"Do not get scammed."

That's like the overriding directive that
informs the entire decision-making tree.

RoboCop, primary directive,
"Do not get scammed."

"Do not arrest OCP executive."
"Do not get scammed."

And for Chinese baby boomers,
there's no value proposition, okay?

It's just pure price sensitivity.

That means any money outgoing is a scam.

"If money leaves my possession,

that was a scam!"

So the whole time, they're just tensed up,

they're just looking for scams
when they go out.

They're just like...

They can't even relax. "Scam's coming!"

It'll be a two-drink minimum over here.
Parking guys, tip...

Tensing up.

Meanwhile, Koreans in the back
just having fun.

Filipinos dancing like...
Chinese baby boomers just tensed up.

The further they get from their house,
as distance X increases,

they know the fees
will increase and so the ex--

The expenditures are gonna increase,
so they keep tensing up.

The further they get,
until eventually, like,

their whole body tenses up
into, like, a "C," right?

Like a "C" for Chinese.

And then, in the back you're like,
"Go, go, have fun! Have fun!"

They just refuse to have fun.

Like, my mom came and visited me
in New York City.

Her only son, she came to New York City.

New York City is the kind of city where,
as soon as you open your front door,

it's like $1.50.

Like, if you touch your door knob,
it's like, Apple Pay $1.50, just going...

It goes into the universe.

My mom came in
and approached the front door in New York.

She's like in the back of the apartment,

"I'm good, I don't need
to leave the house today."

My mom isn't even scared of Asian hate.

She's more scared of inflation.

She can't believe
the prices of things anymore.

You take her out to Central Park.
"Let's go to Central Park, it's free."

"Look how beautiful
New York is in autumn. Look at this."

"Why are these hot dogs five dollars?
It's like, "No, this..."

"The price is right.
No one is scamming you."

"That's the correct
amount of money to pay for that."

"You haven't been out of the house
in 50 years. That number is correct."

"That's how much things cost

after baby boomers destroyed
the global financial economy in 2010

pursuing subprime mortgages, okay?"
That's... That's...

If anything, you scammed yourself.
That's you scamming yourself.

Yeah, "You played yourself." DJ Khaled.

My mom came to visit me in Hawaii.
Her first time in Hawaii.

And if you know Hawaii,
locals and the Hawaiians here,

the least scammy culture on the planet.

Could not be more generous as a community.

You get so much more than you give
when you're on the islands of Hawaii.

And, uh, my mom comes, and she lands,
and she gets to the hotel,

and they welcome her,
"Aloha. Welcome to Hawaii."

And they put a lei over her,
like a ring of flowers.

They put it over her,
and my mom does this.

"I'm not paying for that."

And I'm like, "You can't do that, Mom."

"They're not trying to trick you
into buying something."

"They're trying to welcome you
to their homeland."

"They're not tricking you into buying
just 'cause you touched it."

"This isn't Thailand. Just put on--"

"Put on the lei, you're embarrassing me
in front of the Hawaiians!"

Mahalo.

These Chinese baby boomers,
most scared of being scammed in real life,

the first to get scammed on the internet.

For people who live in fear
their entire lives, extremely gullible.

Because these baby boomers,

they don't have the-- they don't have
the antibodies to deal with the internet.

Completely clueless when they go on now.

Like, watching baby boomers
go on the internet now

is like watching babies
wandering into the kitchen by themselves,

just looking for cookies
on the kitchen countertop, just like...

Running their hands blindly
on the kitchen countertop.

Pulling down knives. Kitchen knives
coming straight down into their eyeballs,

into, like, the soft part of their skull.

They go in the kitchen,
they open the oven, they turn it on.

They stick their head inside.

They're like, "Any pictures
of my grandkids in here?"

"Is this link safe to click on?
Is this link safe to click on?"

"Is this link safe to click on?"

Just falling for every basic bitch
internet scam possible.

These fucking baby boomers
tumbling into internet scams

like pandas rolling down a hill.

Just jujitsu-rolling
into scams every single day.

Loving scams. "Oh, what do you want?
20 Target gift cards?"

"Yeah, sounds like a legitimate way to pay
for antivirus software on my phone."

"Everybody, look. Look at this link.
Look, there's a..."

"'What's the one trick your doctor
doesn't want you to know?'"

"Okay, I'll click on that link."

"I knew it.
I knew my doctor was scamming me!"

"That was a trick
he didn't want me to know."

"I'm gonna invalidate his medical degree
with one click right now!"

"This is not the scam.
My doctor is the scam. Let me..."

Click on this...

These fucking internet idiot savants

who can't remember
a single goddamn password,

but for some reason, can make
any piece of misinformation go viral.

Like a Russian cyber army,

just spreading misinformation
around the world

in family group WhatsApp chats.

Everywhere. "Everybody,
just look at this article. Is this real?"

"Look at it. Is this real?"
It's how they fact-check! They spread it.

"Look at this, this is a real...?
Everybody, weigh in."

"I'm not saying a hair dryer
in your mouth will kill COVID."

"Okay? But what?
You can't ask questions anymore?"

"Look at this article from cnn-n-n-n.ru."

"Quick, send it to your uncle,
send it to your..."

"Send it to our whole family tree.
Everybody needs to see this."

Has there ever been
a dumber generation of idiots

more susceptible to fake news
than these fucking baby boomers

literally believing
everything they see on the internet?

I get the very reasonable argument
that every generation of human

is going to be naturally
a little bit smarter than the last,

due to the exponential
technology growth curve, okay?

But this has got to be
the biggest gap in human history!

The information asymmetry right now
is just out of control.

You literally have people
in Honolulu right now

auto-driving their Tesla Cybertrucks
as they vape out the window,

and their phone AI
is trading cryptocurrency.

Meanwhile, you have baby boomers,
they can't even right-click.

They can't even right-click.

"There's one button!
How do you right-click on one button?!"

It's scary.
They don't know what's real anymore.

"Hey, Ronny. Look at this photo
of Bigfoot shopping at Whole Foods."

"Bigfoot is real now!"

"Look, there's an image of him
buying kombucha at Whole Foods."

"What technology exists
that can fake images?"

I'm like, "Mom, that's not real.
Stop sending it around. It's not real."

"How do you know?"

They always get so indignant about it.

Like, "How do you know

that it's not real?"

"How did you know that?"

Because the font, the font is off
and the resolution of the image is blurry,

and that lighting state
doesn't make sense for that image!

And that's not standard dimensions
for a news article.

I can't give you this knowledge.
It's like Malcolm Gladwell's Blink!

I've seen so much shit on the internet,
my brain instantly filters it.

You'll never have this skill set,
so just stay off the internet!

This world is not for you anymore!
Stop making decisions!

But anyway, respect your elders.

It's a Confucian value.

Maybe if you give your mom some money,
she wouldn't get scammed so much.

Yeah, well...

Think about the correlation
between those two phenomena.

Uh...

People always ask me, like,
"Why do you shit on your mom for money?"

"Why don't you shit on your dad
for money?"

Alright, uh...

No, I don't talk about my dad because, uh,
my dad has no context for show business.

Like, we grew up in Malaysia.

Like, his families
are rubber tappers in Malaysia.

My aunts and uncles are
still in Sitiawan in Malaysia

right now tapping rubber.

They have no context for show business.

Very smart people,
but they don't know this world.

My dad, he was the first guy in his family
to get a college education.

He went to Manchester College,

which has merged with the University
of Southern New Hampshire.

He got his master's of economics there.
Put himself through it. Very smart guy.

And he was a good immigrant.

He came to America, to New Hampshire,
to get his education,

and when he graduated,
he went back to Malaysia.

He didn't take anyone's job, he left.

And my dad had the vision
to see what I didn't see.

He knew he had a ceiling on him,
because of the way he thinks and talks,

and he went back to Malaysia.

And he was right! For him.

He went back.
It was the right choice for him.

He became a very successful
corporate executive.

Uh, he retired to a farm
in Johor Bahru, Malaysia.

Love farming. He retired to a farm.
That's how much this guy loved it,

but he had no context for show business,

so he wouldn't understand
anything I'm doing.

Like, he wouldn't understand
what I'm doing in Godzilla vs. Kong.

He'd be like,
"Why don't you just run that way?"

"Dad, I don't control the edit. Okay?"

"I'm just Honolulu Chinatown
shopkeeper No. 3 in this..."

"In this epic clash of titans

between the giant lizard
and the giant gorilla, okay?"

"I'm just connecting Act 1 to Act 2,
I don't have a say in how this plays out."

Because of that, I stopped
telling him about what I was doing.

I felt he wouldn't get it,
and he stopped asking me.

So I didn't tell him
I got hired on The Daily Show.

He found out the way all parents find out
about their kids' accolades,

through a local newspaper.

So, one day, the local paper reported
that I got hired on The Daily Show,

and he called me immediately. He was like,

Ronny, what's this I hear about you
joining "The Everyday Show"?

And I was like,
"Oh no, it's The Daily Show."

"I joined like two years ago, Dad."

He was like, "Oh, okay.
Well, what's The Daily Show?"

I'm like, "It's just like another
late-night American talk show."

"They kind of invented
modern American satire."

And...

And, uh, my dad was like,
"Oh, that's cool. Are you the host?"

I'm like, "No, I'm a correspondent."

He was like, "What is that?
What's a correspondent?"

I'm like, "Yeah, correspondent is,
I help the host with comedy segments."

And he was like, "Oh, okay."

"Hey, Mei! He's just a sidekick."

And so he had, like, no context

for what was a win,
what was a milestone in this industry.

And so, I stopped telling him,
and he stopped asking me.

And I didn't need that from him.
We-- We were totally fine.

We'd talk about other stuff.
Not about work.

We weren't fighting. It was all good.

Uh, and he passed away
very suddenly, uh, in 2018.

He died on Christmas Eve.

Died on his farm, like,
no warning, no explanation.

He just left one day. He left so suddenly,
we had to go back to handle his estate.

If anyone here has been
so unfortunate to be in that position,

when you have to handle
someone else's estate,

it means that they left so abruptly
that other people had to come in

and close the administrative loops
in their life.

And so it's me, my wife, my sister,
brother-in-law, went back to Johor Bahru,

and part of me
trying to figure out his estate was

I had to hack into his laptop

just to figure out
what banks he was using.

So, his laptop was right
on the kitchen table where he left it,

and I opened it up,
and it's password-protected,

and I know this guy so well, I'm like,

"His password is going to be
the birthday of his favorite child."

So...

...I type in my sister's birthday,
and spot on.

Spot on. It was my sister's birthday.

As it should be. She's, like,
an anesthesiologist in Australia.

She's like way more respectable
person than me,

actually saving lives like a good person.

Contributing back to society,
not like this fucking asshole. I get in...

I get in trouble
on the internet

for shit I said two years ago,
every six weeks.

So it should be her.
She should be the favorite.

So, I log into his computer,
I open his web browser,

I look at his browsing history,

and the whole time, I'm like,
"Please don't let me find my dad's porn."

"Please don't let me find
what positions my dad was into."

"Even if it was just missionary,
I wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I'm gonna have to burn this laptop."

For real Chinese people,

when we burn things,
it goes to our ancestors,

and then my granddad is gonna see it,
and it's like, I don't...

I don't want that for them. I'll be fine,
but they're gonna have an awkward time.

I'm considerate like that, uh...

So I open the web browser,
look at his history,

and way to go, Dad, no porn.

What a clean-cut guy. No porn.
He only went on the internet twice a day.

Like clockwork. 6:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m.
Like the farmer that he was.

And every time he went on the internet,
he'd only go to two websites each time.

So, the first website he'd go to
was a local news website,

and the second website he'd go to
twice a day, every single day,

was my Twitter page.

Aw...

So, he'd be reloading my Twitter page
twice a day just to see what I was doing.

And I post stuff like,
"Hey, Honolulu, Hawaii,

I sold out five shows, uh, this week,
why's there so many homeless people here?"

I'd post stuff like that.

And, uh...

he would read that, and then he'd be like...

I assume, he'd be like,
"Oh, Ronny's doing okay."

"He's in Hawaii, he sold out some shows,

and oh, I guess there's a lot
of homeless people in Hawaii."

Uh, and, um, that was his quiet way
of keeping up with me.

He never told me that,

and I never knew that,
and we never discussed it,

um, which is a very nice sentiment.

Unfortunately, uh, as best as I can tell,

this is the last tweet
my dad read of mine.

So, as best as I can tell,

forensically,

based on internet browsing timestamps,

the last tweet my dad read of mine,

and quite possibly,
the last thing he ever read

before he died on his farm,

was me posting on Twitter,

"If you're a baby boomer on Twitter,
I already know you're a fucking loser."

Now, obviously,
this was not directed towards him.

I didn't even know he had Twitter.

I didn't even know
he knew what Twitter was.

But I stand by the statement.

And I know that's kind
of a weird way to end the show, but, um...

...if it's any solace, uh,
this was his phone when he died.

Aw!

That was his, uh, wallpaper
and his screensaver.

And... [chuckles] And I didn't even know.

And it's a photo
of me and my wife, and we're in Hawaii.

And I'm wearing two leis

'cause my mom threw one off
and I put it on.

And, uh, I didn't know that this was
his screensaver and his wallpaper.

Uh, and...

Uh...

I-- I like to...

I like to think that, uh, that is
the last image he saw of me.

That's what he remembered me by
when he left.

And, uh, I also would
like to tell my sister,

I won! It was me!

It was me!

You guys have been great.
Thanks for coming out, Honolulu.