When Donald J. Trump was voted into the Presidency in 2016, liberal Americans were shocked. Cancel culture was gaining ground, Twitter echo chambers had taken their grasp — no one who proclaimed themself to be leftist or liberal would’ve conceded that a man who spoke and behaved like Trump could be taken seriously. He was a reality TV star, a comedian even. But they were wrong.
Fast forward to 2025, and the NELK boys are ‘interviewing’ Benjamin Netanyahu in D.C. for the FULL SEND PODCAST while he’s in town for talks at the White House. There’s no doubt, right-wing comedians have taken hold of the American imagination, for better or worse.
Enter: Druski. Since coming on the scene in 2017, Druski has captured the attention of the internet’s collective consciousness — one well impacted by Trumpism and a growing disdain for “wokeness.” He’s now a massive star accruing millions of views, having participated in ad campaigns for the likes of Nike, the NBA, Google Pixel, Raising Cane’s (one of the sponsors of his most recent YouTube series, Coulda Been House 2), and many more big-name brands. Not to mention, a contentious, questionable series of advertisements for online gambling services such as PrizePicks, of which he advertises, “If you have the skills, you can turn a thousand dollars into twenty-five thousand dollars in just a few taps.” (Coulda Been House 2, Ep. 1, 23:01)
But what is it about Druski that makes him such a compelling character? Well, he’s undoubtedly versatile, playing a variety of comedic roles, and crafts huge ensembles of silly folks who (whether being intentionally funny or not) draw you into his world. In his long-form videos, the pace is speedy, never lingering too long on one gag. He makes content that engages viewers across cultural boundaries, and there’s no doubt that he’s honed a comedic formula designed to keep you entertained — there’s a laugh for everyone. Right?
Well, not for me. Instead, Druski’s comedy comes off as straight-up unethical. His Coulda Been Records series could be interpreted as satirical, but to many participants and viewers, it’s not. Waiting in line to be on camera with Druski is an invaluable opportunity for young struggling artists to propel themselves into the star’s orbit and achieve fame, even if only for their 15 minutes. Meanwhile, watching the show provides some viewers with an opportunity to get a good laugh out of others’ misfortune through Druski’s unapologetically stereotypical lens.
He even seems to target areas where participants have a financial need to make it out of their circumstances and few avenues to do so; he enjoys making LOLcows out of people who are down on their luck and willing to do anything to support themselves and their families. Often, he humiliates participants on the show by hitting them with a “Get [him/her] the fuck out of here,” after a mere moment or two, and making fun of their size, shape, or sexuality.
Druski particularly enjoys humiliating black women and gay men. The Coulda Been Love series was my introduction to Druski’s content outside of viral TikToks, and it hooked me as a critical viewer. In part because it mirrored the dynamics of famous guilty-pleasure dating shows like The Bachelor or Flavor of Love, but also because of its cast of women, portrayed as scarily aggressive in vying for the love of Druski… and by that I mean the $50,000 grand prize awarded to the woman who won his heart. It got laughs based on the disparaging of plus-size bodies, tokenization of dwarfism, fetishization of lesbian studs (one Redditor gave an incredibly apt take on this on r/lesbiangang: “This is what happens when y’all turn queerness into a spectacle.”), and general disrespect for these women as people whatsoever. This show in one word: fucked.
This is what Druski makes his fortune off of — demeaning people that he is almost never laughing with — and I’m done with it being okay. Druski has never clarified that his work is anything but controversial. It’s not satirical if it’s a contributor to a growing cultural trend towards right-wing comedy and politics. People at the intersections of marginalization are his biggest targets, and laughing at them only worsens our frightening political landscape. Druski’s comedy deserves an assessment much more in-depth than I alone can provide, but I encourage us all to evaluate what we’re laughing at and just why he gets away with it.