Rapper sentenced to 30 years in prison for killing cousin
American rapper Silentó, best known for his viral 2015 dance hit Watch me (Whip/Nae Nae), has been sentenced to 30 years in prison over the shooting death of his cousin.
The 27-year-old, whose real name is Richard 'Ricky' Lamar Hawk, pleaded guilty but mentally ill to charges relating to the fatal shooting of Frederick Rooks III in 2021.
Silentó was sentenced to 30 years in prison with credit for time served since February 2021.
The Atlanta artist was initially arrested after the Dekalb County Police Department found Mr Rooks, 34, with gunshot wounds to his face and leg in January 2021.
Prosecutors claim Silentó shot his cousin multiple times before fleeing the scene.
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The rapper admitted to killing Mr Rooks during a post-arrest interview with investigators and authorities said bullet casings from the scene matched the gun found on the rapper when he was arrested.
After his arrest, Silentó's publicist at the time, Chanel Hudson, said the rapper had been struggling with mental health issues.
'Over the past several years, Ricky has been suffering immensely from a series of mental illnesses,' she wrote in a statement posted online.
'We will continue in his efforts of treatment but we ask in the meantime the public uplift him and his family in immediate prayer and positive energy!!'
The rapper was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder in jail, according to court filings.
Silentó released his most popular song Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae) in 2015 when he was a junior, or Year 11 student, at Redgan High School.
The song ignited a viral dance trend and spent 51 weeks on the Billboard Hot 100, peaking at No .3. It has more than 400 million Spotify streams and 1.9 billion views on YouTube.
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The Advertiser
an hour ago
- The Advertiser
Americans might have ceded government to corrupt oligarchs, but not Australians
Looking for something engaging, I briefly considered getting around to the final season of Succession - the HBO series inspired by the Murdochs. A discussion ensued in which I explained, as much to myself as to my partner, that in past episodes, I kept wishing that a giant concrete block would drop from above silencing the vulgar combatants - Two Ronnies-style. There was not a single likeable character and virtually every sentence was an exercise in cruelty and sexual depravity. Of course, this was the satirical point. Here was a vast media company owned by one disgustingly rich family wantonly controlling public discourse and distorting political outcomes. Here, too, was deep unhappiness, familial brutality and toxic competition. There is no disputing, however, that Succession had tapped into the zeitgeist, just as there is no denying that we, as a culture, derive pleasure from horrible things. Try looking for series that don't feature murder and violence. Most of it, directed at women. If anything, politics in the US increasingly mimics the ruthless nihilism, shameless cynicism and power-lust of the Roys. After the Democrats' colossal deceit of installing a decompensating Joe Biden in 2020, American voters have opted for chaos, for tearing down the rotten edifice of orthodox, institution-based politics and replacing it with things wholly more believable - ego, revenge, self-enrichment and power. They didn't elect Trump in spite of the January 6, insurrection, but because of it. There may not be a single likeable character in which they can feel genuinely invested, but in Trump, there is a superior level of authenticity. He wasn't installed to be restrained or empathetic, or a more politically conservative version of Biden or Obama. Their tinkering proceduralism was the central problem. Trump is the wrecker of worlds, defier of courts, commander in chief in America's new (un)civil war. Rules and standards are for breaking. Everything has become about doubling down, obliterating elite outrage on this or that scandal, with something bigger. Trump's intellectual Svengali, Steve Bannon, invoking his best Successionist imagery, had previously described this as "flooding the zone with shit". And so it is. Little more than a week ago, the world had been agog at the spectacular - if long-expected - public bust-up between the President and Elon Musk. With all the dignity this pair is known for, they had attacked each other as liars, egomaniacs and moral degenerates. Trump's "One Big Beautiful Bill" (seriously, that is its name) was going to add something like US$2.4 trillion to the federal deficit through tax cuts - wiping out the meagre $100 billion or so Musk had tallied by slashing government agencies and sacking "non-patriots". Musk called Trump's spending a disgrace. Via this glimpse of satire-like insight, there was also truth - a backstage episode of government as reality TV. Musk became the apprentice who had been "fired!". Yet the whole thing was suddenly washed from the front pages by Trump's militarisation of his immigration crackdown via the federalisation of the National Guard in a Democrat state and the deployment of another 700 United States marines. This, to control a crisis he, the President, had manufactured. G7 leaders, and invitees such as Australia, are gathering in Canada to discuss the world economy and an increasingly fractious global security environment. Israel has chosen the moment to dramatically ratchet up its aggression, launching missile and drone attacks on Iran's nuclear facilities and on civilian structures. Suddenly, even the illegality of a permanent occupation and the unspeakable horror a manufactured famine in Gaza is second-order news. Trump had let it be known that he had asked the Netanyahu government to hold off launching strikes on Iran as he was close to a deal on nuclear non-proliferation and verification. No matter. In response to the attacks, he said on Truth Social "I gave Iran chance after chance to make a deal ... certain Iranian hardliners spoke bravely but they didn't know what was about to happen. They are all DEAD now, and it will only get worse!" In Ukraine - the war Trump was to resolve in a day - Russia's attacks on Kyiv are said to be the most massive of the two-and-half-year invasion. Trump has apparently lost interest. MORE MARK KENNY: The Israel-Iran conflagration may see the American withdraw from the Canada summit, potentially robbing world leaders, including Anthony Albanese, of a chance to hold one-on-one talks on trade, security, and specifically, AUKUS. The Albanese government has been in damage-control mode in recent days following the announcement of a snap 30-day Pentagon review of the tripartite defence technology partnership in which Australia is already heavily out of pocket. 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A discussion ensued in which I explained, as much to myself as to my partner, that in past episodes, I kept wishing that a giant concrete block would drop from above silencing the vulgar combatants - Two Ronnies-style. There was not a single likeable character and virtually every sentence was an exercise in cruelty and sexual depravity. Of course, this was the satirical point. Here was a vast media company owned by one disgustingly rich family wantonly controlling public discourse and distorting political outcomes. Here, too, was deep unhappiness, familial brutality and toxic competition. There is no disputing, however, that Succession had tapped into the zeitgeist, just as there is no denying that we, as a culture, derive pleasure from horrible things. Try looking for series that don't feature murder and violence. Most of it, directed at women. If anything, politics in the US increasingly mimics the ruthless nihilism, shameless cynicism and power-lust of the Roys. After the Democrats' colossal deceit of installing a decompensating Joe Biden in 2020, American voters have opted for chaos, for tearing down the rotten edifice of orthodox, institution-based politics and replacing it with things wholly more believable - ego, revenge, self-enrichment and power. They didn't elect Trump in spite of the January 6, insurrection, but because of it. There may not be a single likeable character in which they can feel genuinely invested, but in Trump, there is a superior level of authenticity. He wasn't installed to be restrained or empathetic, or a more politically conservative version of Biden or Obama. Their tinkering proceduralism was the central problem. Trump is the wrecker of worlds, defier of courts, commander in chief in America's new (un)civil war. Rules and standards are for breaking. Everything has become about doubling down, obliterating elite outrage on this or that scandal, with something bigger. 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Yet the whole thing was suddenly washed from the front pages by Trump's militarisation of his immigration crackdown via the federalisation of the National Guard in a Democrat state and the deployment of another 700 United States marines. This, to control a crisis he, the President, had manufactured. G7 leaders, and invitees such as Australia, are gathering in Canada to discuss the world economy and an increasingly fractious global security environment. Israel has chosen the moment to dramatically ratchet up its aggression, launching missile and drone attacks on Iran's nuclear facilities and on civilian structures. Suddenly, even the illegality of a permanent occupation and the unspeakable horror a manufactured famine in Gaza is second-order news. Trump had let it be known that he had asked the Netanyahu government to hold off launching strikes on Iran as he was close to a deal on nuclear non-proliferation and verification. No matter. In response to the attacks, he said on Truth Social "I gave Iran chance after chance to make a deal ... certain Iranian hardliners spoke bravely but they didn't know what was about to happen. They are all DEAD now, and it will only get worse!" In Ukraine - the war Trump was to resolve in a day - Russia's attacks on Kyiv are said to be the most massive of the two-and-half-year invasion. Trump has apparently lost interest. MORE MARK KENNY: The Israel-Iran conflagration may see the American withdraw from the Canada summit, potentially robbing world leaders, including Anthony Albanese, of a chance to hold one-on-one talks on trade, security, and specifically, AUKUS. The Albanese government has been in damage-control mode in recent days following the announcement of a snap 30-day Pentagon review of the tripartite defence technology partnership in which Australia is already heavily out of pocket. 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A discussion ensued in which I explained, as much to myself as to my partner, that in past episodes, I kept wishing that a giant concrete block would drop from above silencing the vulgar combatants - Two Ronnies-style. There was not a single likeable character and virtually every sentence was an exercise in cruelty and sexual depravity. Of course, this was the satirical point. Here was a vast media company owned by one disgustingly rich family wantonly controlling public discourse and distorting political outcomes. Here, too, was deep unhappiness, familial brutality and toxic competition. There is no disputing, however, that Succession had tapped into the zeitgeist, just as there is no denying that we, as a culture, derive pleasure from horrible things. Try looking for series that don't feature murder and violence. Most of it, directed at women. If anything, politics in the US increasingly mimics the ruthless nihilism, shameless cynicism and power-lust of the Roys. After the Democrats' colossal deceit of installing a decompensating Joe Biden in 2020, American voters have opted for chaos, for tearing down the rotten edifice of orthodox, institution-based politics and replacing it with things wholly more believable - ego, revenge, self-enrichment and power. They didn't elect Trump in spite of the January 6, insurrection, but because of it. There may not be a single likeable character in which they can feel genuinely invested, but in Trump, there is a superior level of authenticity. He wasn't installed to be restrained or empathetic, or a more politically conservative version of Biden or Obama. Their tinkering proceduralism was the central problem. Trump is the wrecker of worlds, defier of courts, commander in chief in America's new (un)civil war. Rules and standards are for breaking. Everything has become about doubling down, obliterating elite outrage on this or that scandal, with something bigger. Trump's intellectual Svengali, Steve Bannon, invoking his best Successionist imagery, had previously described this as "flooding the zone with shit". And so it is. Little more than a week ago, the world had been agog at the spectacular - if long-expected - public bust-up between the President and Elon Musk. With all the dignity this pair is known for, they had attacked each other as liars, egomaniacs and moral degenerates. Trump's "One Big Beautiful Bill" (seriously, that is its name) was going to add something like US$2.4 trillion to the federal deficit through tax cuts - wiping out the meagre $100 billion or so Musk had tallied by slashing government agencies and sacking "non-patriots". Musk called Trump's spending a disgrace. Via this glimpse of satire-like insight, there was also truth - a backstage episode of government as reality TV. Musk became the apprentice who had been "fired!". Yet the whole thing was suddenly washed from the front pages by Trump's militarisation of his immigration crackdown via the federalisation of the National Guard in a Democrat state and the deployment of another 700 United States marines. This, to control a crisis he, the President, had manufactured. G7 leaders, and invitees such as Australia, are gathering in Canada to discuss the world economy and an increasingly fractious global security environment. Israel has chosen the moment to dramatically ratchet up its aggression, launching missile and drone attacks on Iran's nuclear facilities and on civilian structures. Suddenly, even the illegality of a permanent occupation and the unspeakable horror a manufactured famine in Gaza is second-order news. Trump had let it be known that he had asked the Netanyahu government to hold off launching strikes on Iran as he was close to a deal on nuclear non-proliferation and verification. No matter. In response to the attacks, he said on Truth Social "I gave Iran chance after chance to make a deal ... certain Iranian hardliners spoke bravely but they didn't know what was about to happen. They are all DEAD now, and it will only get worse!" In Ukraine - the war Trump was to resolve in a day - Russia's attacks on Kyiv are said to be the most massive of the two-and-half-year invasion. Trump has apparently lost interest. MORE MARK KENNY: The Israel-Iran conflagration may see the American withdraw from the Canada summit, potentially robbing world leaders, including Anthony Albanese, of a chance to hold one-on-one talks on trade, security, and specifically, AUKUS. The Albanese government has been in damage-control mode in recent days following the announcement of a snap 30-day Pentagon review of the tripartite defence technology partnership in which Australia is already heavily out of pocket. Between that development (or is it an opportunity?), Australia's non-embrace of Trump administration stipulations that partners spend vastly more of their GDP in defence, and the Albanese government's participation in sanctions on two Israeli ministers, there are new frictions in the US-Australia relationship. While Albanese may yet be snubbed in Canada - cue opposition outrage - he can take comfort from his recent mandate and from the fact that, unlike Americans, voters here still value the separation of powers, social cohesion, and a free press. Americans might have ceded government to corrupt oligarchs with the fluid morals of TV scriptwriters, but Australians still believe in sound government. Logan Roy would hate it. Looking for something engaging, I briefly considered getting around to the final season of Succession - the HBO series inspired by the Murdochs. A discussion ensued in which I explained, as much to myself as to my partner, that in past episodes, I kept wishing that a giant concrete block would drop from above silencing the vulgar combatants - Two Ronnies-style. There was not a single likeable character and virtually every sentence was an exercise in cruelty and sexual depravity. Of course, this was the satirical point. Here was a vast media company owned by one disgustingly rich family wantonly controlling public discourse and distorting political outcomes. Here, too, was deep unhappiness, familial brutality and toxic competition. There is no disputing, however, that Succession had tapped into the zeitgeist, just as there is no denying that we, as a culture, derive pleasure from horrible things. Try looking for series that don't feature murder and violence. Most of it, directed at women. If anything, politics in the US increasingly mimics the ruthless nihilism, shameless cynicism and power-lust of the Roys. After the Democrats' colossal deceit of installing a decompensating Joe Biden in 2020, American voters have opted for chaos, for tearing down the rotten edifice of orthodox, institution-based politics and replacing it with things wholly more believable - ego, revenge, self-enrichment and power. They didn't elect Trump in spite of the January 6, insurrection, but because of it. There may not be a single likeable character in which they can feel genuinely invested, but in Trump, there is a superior level of authenticity. He wasn't installed to be restrained or empathetic, or a more politically conservative version of Biden or Obama. Their tinkering proceduralism was the central problem. Trump is the wrecker of worlds, defier of courts, commander in chief in America's new (un)civil war. Rules and standards are for breaking. Everything has become about doubling down, obliterating elite outrage on this or that scandal, with something bigger. Trump's intellectual Svengali, Steve Bannon, invoking his best Successionist imagery, had previously described this as "flooding the zone with shit". And so it is. Little more than a week ago, the world had been agog at the spectacular - if long-expected - public bust-up between the President and Elon Musk. With all the dignity this pair is known for, they had attacked each other as liars, egomaniacs and moral degenerates. Trump's "One Big Beautiful Bill" (seriously, that is its name) was going to add something like US$2.4 trillion to the federal deficit through tax cuts - wiping out the meagre $100 billion or so Musk had tallied by slashing government agencies and sacking "non-patriots". Musk called Trump's spending a disgrace. Via this glimpse of satire-like insight, there was also truth - a backstage episode of government as reality TV. Musk became the apprentice who had been "fired!". Yet the whole thing was suddenly washed from the front pages by Trump's militarisation of his immigration crackdown via the federalisation of the National Guard in a Democrat state and the deployment of another 700 United States marines. This, to control a crisis he, the President, had manufactured. G7 leaders, and invitees such as Australia, are gathering in Canada to discuss the world economy and an increasingly fractious global security environment. Israel has chosen the moment to dramatically ratchet up its aggression, launching missile and drone attacks on Iran's nuclear facilities and on civilian structures. Suddenly, even the illegality of a permanent occupation and the unspeakable horror a manufactured famine in Gaza is second-order news. Trump had let it be known that he had asked the Netanyahu government to hold off launching strikes on Iran as he was close to a deal on nuclear non-proliferation and verification. No matter. In response to the attacks, he said on Truth Social "I gave Iran chance after chance to make a deal ... certain Iranian hardliners spoke bravely but they didn't know what was about to happen. They are all DEAD now, and it will only get worse!" In Ukraine - the war Trump was to resolve in a day - Russia's attacks on Kyiv are said to be the most massive of the two-and-half-year invasion. Trump has apparently lost interest. MORE MARK KENNY: The Israel-Iran conflagration may see the American withdraw from the Canada summit, potentially robbing world leaders, including Anthony Albanese, of a chance to hold one-on-one talks on trade, security, and specifically, AUKUS. The Albanese government has been in damage-control mode in recent days following the announcement of a snap 30-day Pentagon review of the tripartite defence technology partnership in which Australia is already heavily out of pocket. Between that development (or is it an opportunity?), Australia's non-embrace of Trump administration stipulations that partners spend vastly more of their GDP in defence, and the Albanese government's participation in sanctions on two Israeli ministers, there are new frictions in the US-Australia relationship. While Albanese may yet be snubbed in Canada - cue opposition outrage - he can take comfort from his recent mandate and from the fact that, unlike Americans, voters here still value the separation of powers, social cohesion, and a free press. Americans might have ceded government to corrupt oligarchs with the fluid morals of TV scriptwriters, but Australians still believe in sound government. Logan Roy would hate it.
Sydney Morning Herald
2 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
Joe Rogan's message can be rambling and unpolished, yet men idolise him. This might be why
Rogan's voice can be heard in Sydney boys' boarding schools, in the luxury cars of chief executives, and in gardens of home-builders as they chip away at DIY renovations. 'He's smart, and has interesting guests,' says one lawyer. Loading A Sydney-based chief executive listens regularly. 'If you go to the pub with your mates and shoot the shit for a few hours, the conversation goes from the footy to taxes to 'did you hear about the crazy celebrity?'' he says, also on the condition of anonymity. 'That's what you get from Rogan. The people who say you've got to be careful of Joe Rogan and the manosphere are people from legacy media who are losing out to him.' Rogan's podcasts are rambling and unpolished. Joe Rogan Library (JLR), a non-affiliated fan site, estimates they run for an average of almost two hours and 40 minutes. There's been more than 2575, so it would take at least nine months to listen to all of them back-to-back. The JLR also estimates that 89 per cent of guests have been men. So far this year, Rogan has hosted chess grandmaster Magnus Carlsen, comedian Bill Murray, and 'exoneree' Amanda Knox. 'He's smart, and has interesting guests.' An Australian Joe Rogan fan It's a conversation with no specific purpose, reminiscent of stoned freshmen lying on the university lawn and gazing at the stars. His schtick is open-minded curiosity about everything, even theories that are discredited. He hates talking points and scripts. He expects his guests to say what they think, rather than spin answers to avoid stepping on toes. He has the American comedian's disgust at having his conversation hampered by 'wokeness'. That's exactly what Jack, 26, who works in insurance – and did not want to give his last name – enjoys. He thinks critics take Rogan too seriously. 'He's having a bit of fun,' says Jack, as Rogan's commentary about the latest UFC fight blares across the sports bar at The Oaks, Neutral Bay on Sunday afternoon. 'He might be having a few drinks on the podcast. He's debating things. They talk about interesting topics. A different point of view. I just think he's a funny, good bloke.' But Lauren Rosewarne, an associate professor in public policy at the University of Melbourne, argues this 'open-minded curiosity' line is a slippery slope. 'This is the problem with a lot of conspiracy theory,' she says. 'It's very much in line with what we think is critical thinking; 'I'm only asking a question'. It somehow works to validate their entire message.' About 10 years ago, Rogan contacted Szeps when a video of the Australian challenging someone's posturing on air went viral. Rogan became a mentor. 'He's not a polymath,' Szeps says of Rogan, 'but he's eclectic in his interests. [He has a way of noticing] what he finds interesting about a person and guiding it into mutual areas of interest, then shooting the shit about that in a way that, if it's not fascinating every minute, is at least convivial and curious and unexpected.' The conversation can go to strange places. 'I can't intellectually tell you why I don't believe in evolution,' actor Mel Gibson said in January this year, 'but I don't. It's just a feeling.' Rogan pushed back, asking about early hominins such as Australopithecus; Gibson said they were hoaxes. They found a point of agreement in their climate change scepticism. Rogan and a stoned-sounding actor Woody Harrelson affirmed their shared conspiracy theories about vaccination, while Rogan and J. D. Vance (then candidate, not yet vice president) laughed at jokes about billionaire Bill Gates made by their mate, billionaire Elon Musk: 'The funniest thing is when Elon showed a picture of Gates next to a pregnant woman [and said], 'if you want to lose a boner real fast',' said Rogan. 'Elon is so funny. You get dumped on by one of the smartest guys alive.' Australia's stance during the COVID-19 pandemic put the country in Rogan's sights. 'I used to think Australia [could be a good place to live], but then I saw how they handled the pandemic,' he once said. 'I was like, oh f---, that's what happens when no one has guns. Yep, the army just rolls in and tells you what to do and puts you in concentration camps because you have a cold. It's crazy.' Even so, Rogan's political positions are still unpredictable. His closeness with Team Trump did not stop him criticising forced deportations ('we've got to be careful that we don't become monsters while we're fighting monsters'). American academic Jonathan Haidt, author of The Coddling of the American Mind, once tried to articulate the concept of white privilege to Rogan. 'The real enemy is racism,' replied Rogan, 'it's not just white people getting lucky.' At the Oaks on Sunday afternoon, Russell, 26, says he was once a keen listener, but tunes in less since Rogan developed his anti-vaccination stance during COVID. The open-mindedness is shrinking. 'He took a dislike to the left side of the media [during COVID],' says Russell, who also did not want to give his last name. 'He used to be very open and explore different things, now he's more closed off and [hosts] people that reinforce his own ideas. I still think he preaches healthy behaviours.' Many of Rogan's guests don't share his views, but, having weighed up potential brand damage against potential publicity, come armed with enough anecdotes to ensure that the conversation doesn't veer into risky territory. Russell Crowe talked about the dangers of fossil fuels, which didn't get much response from Rogan, and told a rehearsed tale of being 'f---ed on the neck by a tarantula'. Brian Cox, the British physicist, explained black holes and deftly batted away Rogan's theory that octopuses might be aliens. Bono gave a fascinating insight into his friendships with Johnny Cash and Frank Sinatra, but challenged Trump's cuts to USAID. The podcast recalls the popularity of talkback radio in Australia, which once attracted listeners in their millions to (mostly) men talking for hours about whatever took their fancy. The underlying appeal of both is what's known as a parasocial relationship; that feeling of cosy familiarity, almost friendship, with a broadcaster. An Australian study found 43 per cent of men are experiencing loneliness. Perhaps part of Rogan's appeal is that he is offering them blokey companionship from a studio in Austin, Texas, 14,000 kilometres away. Rogan, 57, was born in New Jersey. His father was a police officer, and his parents divorced when he was five. 'All I remember of my dad are these brief, violent flashes of domestic violence,' he once said. He won the US Open Taekwondo Championships at age 19 then dropped out. He became a stand-up comic in the late 1980s, got an acting job on the comedy show NewsRadio in the mid-1990s and hosted the stunt show Fear Factor in the early 2000s. But for many years, he was best known as an announcer for the Ultimate Fighting Championship, or UFC, a 'no-rules' martial arts competition with skyrocketing popularity among American and Australian men. The UFC is where Rogan's links to the Trump ecosystem were nurtured. UFC boss Dana White and Trump go back almost 25 years, to when so-called 'human cockfighting' was shunned by the mainstream. Trump was the only one who would host it, making his casinos available. White returned the favour by inviting Trump as a special guest after the January 20 riots. White has been credited with securing the 'testosterone vote' for Trump in last year's election. Rogan wasn't always a Trump man. In 2022, he described the former president as an existential threat to democracy. But Rogan is a big fan of fellow vaccine sceptic Robert F. Kennedy. Rogan interviewed Trump for three hours during the US election campaign, and declined an interview with Harris. White said in January that he has been 'working on Rogan for years … I knew that if I could get him and Trump together that they would hit it off'. Rogan's interviews with Trump, Vance and White House cost-cutter Musk brought the MAGA world to tens of millions of Americans before the election. Rogan's dip-in, dip-out listeners might make up their own minds about his ideas. But his audience is so big, and some of his guests so partisan or fringe, that many think he should take greater responsibility for what he broadcasts. 'I don't think it's appropriate, at his level of fame, for him not to have bothered investing in a couple of New York Times fact-checkers, to assist him in knowing if what he's putting out there is true,' says Szeps. Douglas Murray, a conservative commentator and recent Rogan guest, recently took aim at the podcast's blurring of the line between opinion and expertise. 'It does not mean that a comedian can simply hold himself out as a Middle East expert and should be listened to as if he has any body of work,' he said. Or as Sam Harris – philosopher, neuroscientist, and former Rogan guest – said, 'Joe is a genuinely good guy who wants good things for people. But he is honestly in over his head on so many topics of great consequence.' In the United States, as in Australia, broadcasters are regulated, based on the view back when broadcast media took form that the first amendment right to free speech was not designed for mass reach, and that 'that you can't just let the market do whatever it wants to do in the airwaves, that there's a social responsibility that comes with that – democracy depends on it', says Andy Ruddock, a senior lecturer in media at Monash University. But podcasts, like so many other elements of the digital age, have evolved unfettered in an era when social responsibility is less valued than freedom and the individual. 'This is why [responding to] people like Rogan is quite difficult,' says Ruddock. 'This idea of, 'if I'm in your studio, and someone says I can't say what I want to say, that's an abridgement of my personal rights', is based on the assumption that sitting in your studio talking to millions of people is the same as sitting outside the pub and talking to someone.' This hyperfocus on the individual also worries Rosewarne for a different reason. Many of Rogan's followers, particularly young men and teen boys, are attracted to his 'life optimisation' quest. This involves not only intense physical training – 'train by day, podcast by night' is Rogan's catchphrase – but also a list of physical enhancers such as supplements, testosterone injections, freeze rooms, mushroom coffee, NAD (nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide), intravenous drips, and nootropics (brain enhancers). Many providers of Rogan's supplements advertise on his show, or have his personal endorsement. Loading 'Who doesn't want to be better?' says Rosewarne. 'Unfortunately, that reasonable-sounding message leads into directions that get exacerbated. The body as a temple, and also worship of the self; these are incredibly narcissistic movements. This is at the heart of these conservative, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps ethos, too; 'you are in control of your destiny, you're the main player'.' Rosewarne suggests those who use Rogan as a road map for self-improvement should ask themselves whether it's a positive addition to their lives. 'Or does it constantly reiterate the message that you are not enough, like women's magazines did?' says Rosewarne.
The Age
2 hours ago
- The Age
Joe Rogan's message can be rambling and unpolished, yet men idolise him. This might be why
Rogan's voice can be heard in Sydney boys' boarding schools, in the luxury cars of chief executives, and in gardens of home-builders as they chip away at DIY renovations. 'He's smart, and has interesting guests,' says one lawyer. Loading A Sydney-based chief executive listens regularly. 'If you go to the pub with your mates and shoot the shit for a few hours, the conversation goes from the footy to taxes to 'did you hear about the crazy celebrity?'' he says, also on the condition of anonymity. 'That's what you get from Rogan. The people who say you've got to be careful of Joe Rogan and the manosphere are people from legacy media who are losing out to him.' Rogan's podcasts are rambling and unpolished. Joe Rogan Library (JLR), a non-affiliated fan site, estimates they run for an average of almost two hours and 40 minutes. There's been more than 2575, so it would take at least nine months to listen to all of them back-to-back. The JLR also estimates that 89 per cent of guests have been men. So far this year, Rogan has hosted chess grandmaster Magnus Carlsen, comedian Bill Murray, and 'exoneree' Amanda Knox. 'He's smart, and has interesting guests.' An Australian Joe Rogan fan It's a conversation with no specific purpose, reminiscent of stoned freshmen lying on the university lawn and gazing at the stars. His schtick is open-minded curiosity about everything, even theories that are discredited. He hates talking points and scripts. He expects his guests to say what they think, rather than spin answers to avoid stepping on toes. He has the American comedian's disgust at having his conversation hampered by 'wokeness'. That's exactly what Jack, 26, who works in insurance – and did not want to give his last name – enjoys. He thinks critics take Rogan too seriously. 'He's having a bit of fun,' says Jack, as Rogan's commentary about the latest UFC fight blares across the sports bar at The Oaks, Neutral Bay on Sunday afternoon. 'He might be having a few drinks on the podcast. He's debating things. They talk about interesting topics. A different point of view. I just think he's a funny, good bloke.' But Lauren Rosewarne, an associate professor in public policy at the University of Melbourne, argues this 'open-minded curiosity' line is a slippery slope. 'This is the problem with a lot of conspiracy theory,' she says. 'It's very much in line with what we think is critical thinking; 'I'm only asking a question'. It somehow works to validate their entire message.' About 10 years ago, Rogan contacted Szeps when a video of the Australian challenging someone's posturing on air went viral. Rogan became a mentor. 'He's not a polymath,' Szeps says of Rogan, 'but he's eclectic in his interests. [He has a way of noticing] what he finds interesting about a person and guiding it into mutual areas of interest, then shooting the shit about that in a way that, if it's not fascinating every minute, is at least convivial and curious and unexpected.' The conversation can go to strange places. 'I can't intellectually tell you why I don't believe in evolution,' actor Mel Gibson said in January this year, 'but I don't. It's just a feeling.' Rogan pushed back, asking about early hominins such as Australopithecus; Gibson said they were hoaxes. They found a point of agreement in their climate change scepticism. Rogan and a stoned-sounding actor Woody Harrelson affirmed their shared conspiracy theories about vaccination, while Rogan and J. D. Vance (then candidate, not yet vice president) laughed at jokes about billionaire Bill Gates made by their mate, billionaire Elon Musk: 'The funniest thing is when Elon showed a picture of Gates next to a pregnant woman [and said], 'if you want to lose a boner real fast',' said Rogan. 'Elon is so funny. You get dumped on by one of the smartest guys alive.' Australia's stance during the COVID-19 pandemic put the country in Rogan's sights. 'I used to think Australia [could be a good place to live], but then I saw how they handled the pandemic,' he once said. 'I was like, oh f---, that's what happens when no one has guns. Yep, the army just rolls in and tells you what to do and puts you in concentration camps because you have a cold. It's crazy.' Even so, Rogan's political positions are still unpredictable. His closeness with Team Trump did not stop him criticising forced deportations ('we've got to be careful that we don't become monsters while we're fighting monsters'). American academic Jonathan Haidt, author of The Coddling of the American Mind, once tried to articulate the concept of white privilege to Rogan. 'The real enemy is racism,' replied Rogan, 'it's not just white people getting lucky.' At the Oaks on Sunday afternoon, Russell, 26, says he was once a keen listener, but tunes in less since Rogan developed his anti-vaccination stance during COVID. The open-mindedness is shrinking. 'He took a dislike to the left side of the media [during COVID],' says Russell, who also did not want to give his last name. 'He used to be very open and explore different things, now he's more closed off and [hosts] people that reinforce his own ideas. I still think he preaches healthy behaviours.' Many of Rogan's guests don't share his views, but, having weighed up potential brand damage against potential publicity, come armed with enough anecdotes to ensure that the conversation doesn't veer into risky territory. Russell Crowe talked about the dangers of fossil fuels, which didn't get much response from Rogan, and told a rehearsed tale of being 'f---ed on the neck by a tarantula'. Brian Cox, the British physicist, explained black holes and deftly batted away Rogan's theory that octopuses might be aliens. Bono gave a fascinating insight into his friendships with Johnny Cash and Frank Sinatra, but challenged Trump's cuts to USAID. The podcast recalls the popularity of talkback radio in Australia, which once attracted listeners in their millions to (mostly) men talking for hours about whatever took their fancy. The underlying appeal of both is what's known as a parasocial relationship; that feeling of cosy familiarity, almost friendship, with a broadcaster. An Australian study found 43 per cent of men are experiencing loneliness. Perhaps part of Rogan's appeal is that he is offering them blokey companionship from a studio in Austin, Texas, 14,000 kilometres away. Rogan, 57, was born in New Jersey. His father was a police officer, and his parents divorced when he was five. 'All I remember of my dad are these brief, violent flashes of domestic violence,' he once said. He won the US Open Taekwondo Championships at age 19 then dropped out. He became a stand-up comic in the late 1980s, got an acting job on the comedy show NewsRadio in the mid-1990s and hosted the stunt show Fear Factor in the early 2000s. But for many years, he was best known as an announcer for the Ultimate Fighting Championship, or UFC, a 'no-rules' martial arts competition with skyrocketing popularity among American and Australian men. The UFC is where Rogan's links to the Trump ecosystem were nurtured. UFC boss Dana White and Trump go back almost 25 years, to when so-called 'human cockfighting' was shunned by the mainstream. Trump was the only one who would host it, making his casinos available. White returned the favour by inviting Trump as a special guest after the January 20 riots. White has been credited with securing the 'testosterone vote' for Trump in last year's election. Rogan wasn't always a Trump man. In 2022, he described the former president as an existential threat to democracy. But Rogan is a big fan of fellow vaccine sceptic Robert F. Kennedy. Rogan interviewed Trump for three hours during the US election campaign, and declined an interview with Harris. White said in January that he has been 'working on Rogan for years … I knew that if I could get him and Trump together that they would hit it off'. Rogan's interviews with Trump, Vance and White House cost-cutter Musk brought the MAGA world to tens of millions of Americans before the election. Rogan's dip-in, dip-out listeners might make up their own minds about his ideas. But his audience is so big, and some of his guests so partisan or fringe, that many think he should take greater responsibility for what he broadcasts. 'I don't think it's appropriate, at his level of fame, for him not to have bothered investing in a couple of New York Times fact-checkers, to assist him in knowing if what he's putting out there is true,' says Szeps. Douglas Murray, a conservative commentator and recent Rogan guest, recently took aim at the podcast's blurring of the line between opinion and expertise. 'It does not mean that a comedian can simply hold himself out as a Middle East expert and should be listened to as if he has any body of work,' he said. Or as Sam Harris – philosopher, neuroscientist, and former Rogan guest – said, 'Joe is a genuinely good guy who wants good things for people. But he is honestly in over his head on so many topics of great consequence.' In the United States, as in Australia, broadcasters are regulated, based on the view back when broadcast media took form that the first amendment right to free speech was not designed for mass reach, and that 'that you can't just let the market do whatever it wants to do in the airwaves, that there's a social responsibility that comes with that – democracy depends on it', says Andy Ruddock, a senior lecturer in media at Monash University. But podcasts, like so many other elements of the digital age, have evolved unfettered in an era when social responsibility is less valued than freedom and the individual. 'This is why [responding to] people like Rogan is quite difficult,' says Ruddock. 'This idea of, 'if I'm in your studio, and someone says I can't say what I want to say, that's an abridgement of my personal rights', is based on the assumption that sitting in your studio talking to millions of people is the same as sitting outside the pub and talking to someone.' This hyperfocus on the individual also worries Rosewarne for a different reason. Many of Rogan's followers, particularly young men and teen boys, are attracted to his 'life optimisation' quest. This involves not only intense physical training – 'train by day, podcast by night' is Rogan's catchphrase – but also a list of physical enhancers such as supplements, testosterone injections, freeze rooms, mushroom coffee, NAD (nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide), intravenous drips, and nootropics (brain enhancers). Many providers of Rogan's supplements advertise on his show, or have his personal endorsement. Loading 'Who doesn't want to be better?' says Rosewarne. 'Unfortunately, that reasonable-sounding message leads into directions that get exacerbated. The body as a temple, and also worship of the self; these are incredibly narcissistic movements. This is at the heart of these conservative, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps ethos, too; 'you are in control of your destiny, you're the main player'.' Rosewarne suggests those who use Rogan as a road map for self-improvement should ask themselves whether it's a positive addition to their lives. 'Or does it constantly reiterate the message that you are not enough, like women's magazines did?' says Rosewarne.
