Samuel L. Jackson has a new interview in the October issue of Playboy, and it is a goddamn breath of fresh air after the whining, tone-deaf bullshit coming out of Kanye West and Chris Brown‘s mouths. I highly recommend reading the whole thing, but if you’re strapped for time, here are some highlights on the Django Unchained controversy, Obama, women, and how sometimes a motherfucker just wants to eat his sandwiches.
On people complaining about the use of “nigger” in Django Unchained:
These 20-year-olds and others are always talking about “Where’s my 40 acres and a mule? Where are my reparations?” Well, you wanna act like the government owes us reparations, we gotta show what they owe us for. Here it is, right here onscreen. These stories must be told. Yet they still want to turn around and go, “Fuck Quentin Tarantino, he don’t know shit about it,” but if Spike, the Hughes brothers or Carl Franklin had done it, it would have been right? Look, Quentin has this master storytelling ability, and a lot of criticism from a lot of people is straight bullshit jealousy because they can’t do it themselves.
On when he first started noticing the opposite sex:
I was always noticing girls. As a kid, I spent summers on my grandfather’s sister’s farm down in Georgia, with her cows, chickens and all her kids and me running up and down dirt roads, feeling all that freedom. I saw things fucking from the time I was three, four years old.
And almost immediately got to work:
In Georgia there was a family of girls who lived through the woods from us, and we all used to meet at this creek and swim naked. I was about 10 or 11. I think two of the girls were about 14, 15, so that’s when it happened. Girls were interesting to me, period. They could be fat, skinny, tall, short, ugly, beautiful—as long as they were willing to do that thing.
First of all, we know it ain’t because of his blackness, so I say stop trying to “relate.” Be a leader. Be fucking presidential. Look, I grew up in a society where I could say “It ain’t” or “What it be” to my friends. But when I’m out presenting myself to the world as me, who graduated from college, who had family who cared about me, who has a well-read background, I fucking conjugate.
On expecting Hillary Clinton to be the one to put her balls on the table:
He got a little heated about the kids getting killed in Newtown and about the gun law. He’s still a safe dude. But with those Republicans, we’re now in a situation where even if he said, “I want to give you motherfuckers a raise,” they’d go, “Fuck you! We don’t want a raise!” I don’t know how we fix this bullshit. How do we fix the fact that politicians aren’t trying to serve the people, they’re just trying to serve their party and their closed ideals? How do we find a way to say, “You motherfuckers are fired because you’re not doing shit about taking care of the country”? If Hillary Clinton decides to run, she’s going to kick their fucking asses, and those motherfuckers would rather see the country go down in flames than let the times change. But as I tell my daughter, there was a time we would be in the streets about this shit.
Provided those streets don’t involve Occupy Wall Street because he will straight make fun of your ass:
She understands our backgrounds as revolutionaries and about being in the street because I put her out there. She’s done some protesting, even though I laughed at her when she went down to Occupy Wall Street because she and Anne Hathaway are good friends. I went, “Wait, you went to Occupy Wall Street—with Annie Hathaway?”
On his absent father dying shortly after he met him and told him to fuck off:
He was an alcoholic with cirrhosis and all that other shit. They had called me from the hospital: “Mr. Jackson, your father’s really ill now. If we have to take drastic measures, do you want us to keep him alive?” I said, “Are you calling to ask if I want you to put him on life support, or are you calling to see if I’m going to be responsible for his medical bill?” They’re like, “Well….” I said, “He’s got a sister in Kansas City—you should call her.” Click. [laughs] It’s done.
On how he should be in Star Wars: Episode VII:
They should figure out a way to bring my ass back from wherever I went when I fell out that window, because you know a Jedi can fall from incredible heights and not die. I’d just come back with a fake hand like Darth Vader and my purple lightsaber.
And why he’ll never direct:
I don’t have that directing thing. I don’t want to be out there setting up shots all day. I like to act. I read the script and sign the contract. I like hanging out in my trailer watching Judge Judy and eating sandwiches.
Ladies and gentlemen, Samuel L. Jackson.