*
[Cheering and applause]
Welcome, welcome, welcome to "Last Week Tonight."
I'm John Oliver. Thank you for being with us.
Just time for a quick recap of the week,
and we begin in Hong Kong.
The former British colony now back under Chinese rule.
All week, protesters have been in the streets,
angry at the Chinese government's announcement
that they would be pre-selecting all candidates
for Hong Kong's 2017 elections.
And Hong Kong is in an odd situation.
It's a limited democracy inside a Communist country,
a setup that their own constitution describes
as one country, two systems.
It's like the two girls, one cup of governance,
with one girl having a lot more control
over what happens to that cup.
The protests have been notable
not just for their size, but also for their tone.
MALE REPORTER: This is one of the most peaceful and polite
mass protests I've ever covered.
There's an enormous amount of housekeeping being done.
These are extremely polite protesters.
There were all these signs that were really, I thought,
really kind of cute and really told you
about the Hong Kong protestor.
It would say something like, you know, fighting for democracy,
you know, apologies for the inconvenience.
Ooh. It seems Hong Kong may have left the British empire,
but we clearly left our manners behind.
We'd very much like to rise up against
the great state of China but certainly wouldn't want to cause
a mess while we're doing it.
Scrub a dub dub. What? What?
The ingenuity of the protestors has also been striking.
Not only have they repelled pepper spray with umbrellas,
but when the government cracked down on communication,
they found a workaround.
Protestors are using an app called Fire Chat,
which was developed here in San Francisco
for people who want to exchange text messages via Bluetooth.
It's intended for use at off-the-grid events,
things like Burning Man or Coachella.
Yes, the Hong Kong protestors have achieved the impossible,
making something featuring the words
"Bluetooth," "Burning Man,"
and "Coachella" not incredibly annoying.
Although, I do have to say, if I was going to use any invention
from Burning Man to fight the Chinese government,
I definitely would've gone with the 8-armed metal fire beast.
Not even a Chinese tank is gonna take on the pyroctopus.
Moving on. Brazil went to the polls today.
They're voting in presidential and local elections,
and turnout is expected to be extremely high,
for one interesting reason.
FEMALE REPORTER: Voting is obligatory in Brazil.
Yes, it's basically illegal not to vote in Brazil.
A well-intentioned law. The problem is,
when you make something obligatory, people resent it.
And when they resent it, they fuck with it,
which has led to a proud tradition
of joke protest candidates in Brazil, going back to 1959,
when Sao Paulo actually elected a rhinoceros
to the city council.
Now--yes. Now, her ballots,
her ballots were sadly disqualified
after they realized what had happened,
so the second place candidate took office--
a penguin in a bowler hat.
Now, the beauty is candidates even get
free airtime on Brazilian TV,
whether they are joke candidates or not,
so election season this year has been spectacular,
thanks to candidates like Jesus, Satan,
and of course, Osama bin Laden,
as well as multiple President Obama impersonators,
one of whom looks almost bizarrely not like Barack Obama.
Who is he trying to appeal to?
I'm really trying to win voters who love Barack Obama
but who are also racist enough to think that I look like him.
That's my demo.
But perhaps my favorite candidate this year is this guy.
Paulo Batista, who seems to be running on a platform
of having laser vision that can transform the country,
and who ends the ad by flying through space
for 20 solid seconds.
We have not edited this.
This is genuinely how his campaign ad ends.
He's hurtling through space,
hypnotizing you into voting for him.
And that is how you win over undecided voters right there.
So let's all remember these.
Let's all remember these ads
the next time someone complains to you
about the craziness of America's political ads.
Because until we are choosing between Jesus, Satan,
and a hypnotic Superman,
we are not as strange as we think we are.
And finally this week, there was some important news
from the world of sports.
All we know about the 2022 Winter Olympics is
they will be held in an interesting and challenging place.
Norway has dropped out, meaning the only two places
left in the running are Beijing and a resort in Kazakhstan.
Oh, for fuck's sake, Norway, how can you pull out?
The only reason we have winter Olympics
is so you freakish snow people
can pick up your stupid cross-country skiing medals.
And the problem is, neither China nor Kazakhstan
are appealing alternatives.
Both have appalling human rights records,
Beijing doesn't even have a mountain suitable for skiing
within 50 miles of it,
and if they have it in Kazakhstan,
we're all gonna have to listen to
two weeks of Borat impressions
from America's foremost douchebags.
"Is nice, Winter Olympics?"
Yes, it's nice. Yes.
It's nice. I get it.
And Norway is not alone in not wanting to host the Olympics.
Ukraine, Poland, and Sweden have also pulled out of their bids.
BRIAN WILLIAMS: The Associated Press is calling 2022
the Olympics no one seems to want.
Wherever it is, they'll be televised by NBC.
[Laughter and applause]
We get--we get--you do-- You genuinely get the sense
if they just widened the shot out just slightly,
you'd have seen Brian Williams making the jerk-off hand motion.
Whatever it is, it will be televised on NBC.
What am I doing here? Get me out of this place.
So, just out of interest, what happened with the Norwegian bid?
How did a country that makes socks like these
suddenly get cold feet?
Well, it turns out
it might have something to do with the IOC's
7,000 pages of host nation demands,
including, and these are all real,
a demand to be presented to the king,
that the hotel's minibar must be stocked with Coke products,
and that members should be greeted
with a smiling, positive, and welcoming staff,
and with seasonal fruits and pastries
waiting for them in their hotel rooms.
Incidentally, what the fuck
is a seasonal pastry in Oslo in February?
I'm guessing it's something like a herring with vanilla frosting.
Look, look, I get why Norway
doesn't want to deal with all this.
But someone has to, or China or Kazakhstan are going to win,
and that is why tonight, I'm proud to say
we are officially announcing our bid
to host the 2022 Winter Olympics
right here in the "Last Week Tonight" studio.
[Cheering and applause] Sure. Sure.
We're not a world-class ski destination.
We're a TV show filmed in a small studio
in New York's historic carjacking district.
But we will meet all of the IOC's demands.
First, here is your fridge full of Coke products.
Look, there's even Fresca in there--
the soda that's like having a grapefruit shit in your mouth.
And I know that you want to be greeted by
a contractually mandated smile.
Here you go. Look at her.
She hates you, and you'd barely know.
And sure, we may not have the greatest facilities
for an international winter-sports event,
but we do have exactly as many ski mountains
as the entire city of Beijing,
and we also have this combined
ice rink, ski slope, and bobsled track.
Also, we even have a second fridge of Coke products.
This one has Vanilla Coke in it.
It's like drinking a Glade Plug-In.
And while we may not have a king for you to meet,
we've got something even better:
a King Charles spaniel dressed as a king.
He's a good boy. He's a very good boy.
And don't worry about Olympic mascots.
We already have two!
A Scottish unicorn and a horny space gecko!
So come on, IOC! Come on!
Hosting the Olympics here makes exactly as much sense
as Beijing and Kazakhstan,
and we have a much better human rights record
than at least one of those!
"Last Week Tonight" Olympics 2022! Yes!
[Cheering and applause]
And now this.
MAN: And now "Last Week Tonight" asks...
This week, Columbus Day. How is this still a thing?
America has a lot of solemn holiday traditions,
from saluting the quiet dignity of the Irish
to proudly celebrating our birth as a nation
to just spending quality time with family at Thanksgiving.
[Crowd screaming]
But next week brings perhaps the strangest
of American holidays-- Columbus Day,
which brings with it the beloved annual traditions
of cheesy local commercials.
In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue
to celebrate Mattress Depot.
MAN: And Americans turning up to
an unexpectedly closed post office
and going, "Oh, yeah, it's Columbus Day. Shit."
This proud holiday commemorates
the landing of Christopher Columbus
in the Bahamas in 1492,
beginning a long tradition of obnoxious white people
visiting Caribbean islands and acting like they own the place.
In school, American children
learn about Christopher Columbus' life.
I will discover a shortcut to India.
We'll call this part of India San Salvador.
MAN: Of course, what they tend not to learn
are the parts of Columbus' life
where he kidnapped Native Americans
and sold them into slavery,
had his men slice them to pieces,
and through disease and warfare
killed roughly half the population of Haiti.
But in fairness, none of that rhymes with "In 1492."
Nevertheless, Columbus became famous for his discoveries.
Specifically, the discovery that you can
discover a continent
with millions of people already living on it
that had also been visited by Vikings
around 500 years earlier.
In fact, many U.S. states and cities
no longer recognize Columbus Day,
raising the question, why do the rest of us still do it?
Sure, it's a chance for Italians to celebrate their heritage,
but there are so many other heroes they could celebrate.
Why not Frank Sinatra Day?
He killed no Native Americans that we know of.
Or Mario Batali.
If he's killed anyone, it's through cheese.
Or Al Pacino Day, a day that would probably start well
and end as an overblown parody of itself.
She's got a great ass!
MAN: So America's least-favorite holiday
commemorates a murderous egomaniac
whose most famous discovery was a case of getting lost
and refusing to ask directions.
All of which is enough to make you wonder,
Columbus Day.
[Cheers and applause]
Moving on.
Our main story tonight, the police.
They protect us, they serve us,
and they provide us with an endless source
of TV show one-liners.
Rock, paper, scissors, gun.
Well, I'm no Serena Williams,
but I know one thing.
It's all in the wrist.
Who'd want to cut your penis off?
Take a number.
OK, now, you laugh, but admit it,
you want to watch the rest of that episode right now.
Now, look, public trust in the police
is one of the most vital elements in a civilized society.
But for many Americans, that trust has been undermined
by a procedure called civil forfeiture.
Now, I know it sounds like
a Gwyneth Paltrow euphemism for divorce.
But incredibly, it's actually even worse than that.
Civil asset forfeiture is really a mechanism by which
the state and federal government can seize people's property
without having to convict them of a crime.
Most people can't afford to hire a lawyer to challenge it.
It's really legalized robbery by law enforcement.
And think about it. That is a tough crime
to report to the police.
Give me a description of what the guy looked like.
Well, to be honest, he looked a lot like the guy
currently asking me what the guy looked like.
And if you think this sounds bad,
just wait until you see how it looks,
because the "Washington Post" recently published
a major investigation featuring stories like that of
this man, who was driving from Michigan to San Francisco
with $2,400 in cash that his dad had lent him to start a new job,
when he was pulled over in Nevada.
I gave him my license and registration, and then,
as he was looking at that information,
he asked me how much money I was traveling with.
MALE REPORTER: Lee told him about the money his dad gave him,
which he kept in the trunk.
LEE: He told me to turn on my air vents on high
and roll up my windows and get out of the car
because he was going to run a canine around it.
MALE REPORTER: Dove didn't find drugs, but he did find
the $2,400.
He said, "No, I'm going to keep the money because
"I've concluded through my investigation here
"that you are traveling from Michigan to California
to purchase drugs."
Wow. There is so much wrong there, including the fact that
any policeman who genuinely believes
you need to travel from Michigan to California
to purchase drugs
needs to be introduced to the concept of
the University of Wisconsin, Madison.
OK? It's right there.
And the problem is, stories like that are surprisingly common.
In fact, since 9/11, under just one program,
police have taken $2.5 billion
in the course of over 61,000 seizures of cash alone
from people who--and this is the mind-blowing part--
were not charged with a crime.
That is the sort of police behavior
that we laugh at other countries for,
along with their accents and silly hats.
The way civil forfeiture generally works is that
if the police believe they have a preponderance of the evidence
that suggests your property was or could be used in a crime,
they may confiscate it, and it gets even weirder.
Many folks are unfamiliar with the idea of civil forfeiture,
which is actually a case brought against,
directly against a piece a property,
where you don't need to be proven guilty of a crime
for your goods to be taken away.
Exactly. You don't need to be charged with a crime,
because it's not you that's on trial, it's your stuff.
That's why these cases have historically
had eye-catching names such as-- and all of these are real--
United States vs. $8,850 in U.S. Currency,
United States vs. An Article Consisting of
50,000 Cardboard Boxes More or Less,
Each Containing One Pair of Clacker Balls,
and United States vs. Approximately
64,695 Pounds of Shark Fins,
which must've been an amazing court case.
And do you see those shark fins in the room right now?
Yes! There they are! There they are!
Let the record show the witness has pointed
at roughly 65,000 pounds of shark fins.
Guilty, guilty.
And it's also worth noting
that your possessions generally have fewer protections
under the law than you do.
Under civil forfeiture laws,
your property is guilty until you prove it innocent.
How can that be possible? At this point, I'm surprised
objects don't have their own civil rights leader,
like Martin Scooter King or Harvey Carton of Milk.
Now, to be fair,
civil forfeiture laws have had some positive consequences.
They've crippled powerful drug-trafficking organizations,
thwarted criminals, and returned billions of dollars to victims.
The problem is that many police departments
are allowed to keep most or all of the money they seize.
And knowing that starts to make you wonder
about the motivations of these kinds of questions.
I'll take whatever cash you got in there
and is that a Slurpee in the cup holder?
What flavor? Grape? Never mind.
Do you know what? I will take it.
I'll take it.
The question "Do you have cash in the vehicle?"
is surprisingly common in traffic stops.
And the police are prepared to overcome
any language barrier to ask it.
Tenny mucho mucho deniro in su trucky trailer?
Let's be clear.
He just said, "Tenny mucho mucho deniro in su trucky trailer,"
which sounds like an alien's first attempt to communicate
with humans after crash-landing in a Taco Bell.
In fact, let's all just pause for a moment
to enjoy that sentence
because every single word of it is funny.
First, "tenny," pronounced incorrectly.
"Mucho," one of the few words he knows in Spanish.
"Mucho," repeated word.
"Deniro," a famed actor.
"In," a rapid shift to English.
"Su," rapid shift back to Spanish.
"Trucky trailer"-- trucky trailer.
Now, it's magnificent. That is magnificent.
It's a work of art. Now, this happened in Tennessee,
a state where local law enforcement authorities
are allowed to keep as much as 100%
of the proceeds from civil forfeitures.
A local news investigation found multiple troubling cases of
people having money seized, such as George Reby,
who had $20,000 seized after he was stopped for speeding.
The police officer argued it was drug money,
despite the fact that Reby had a pretty good explanation.
REBY: I told him I had active bids on eBay,
that I was trying to buy a vehicle,
and they just didn't want to hear it.
MALE REPORTER: In fact, Reby had proof on his computer,
but the Monterey officer drew up a damning affidavit,
citing his own training that "common people
do not carry this much U.S. currency."
And did he tell you that he was trying to buy a car?
He did.
But you did not include that in your report.
If it's not in there, I didn't put it in there.
So, why would you leave that out?
I don't know.
What do you mean you don't know?
I expect a better answer from a police officer
than a 4-year-old who just spilled
grape juice on the couch.
What happened to your drink?
I don't know. I don't know.
If it's not in my glass, it's not in my glass.
I don't know. I don't know.
And look, it's not always just a roadside stop.
In 2008, police raided
the Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit
during its Funk Night because it didn't have a liquor license,
seizing 44 cars, under the argument that
"simply driving vehicles to the location
of an unlawful sale of alcohol was sufficient to seize a car."
Which means you may as well seize any car
driven by any teenager on prom night,
because they are all going to Chad's place.
Chad's got the hookup.
We actually managed to get the security video
of that Detroit raid,
and you can see the police burst in
and arrest people with the disco lights still twirling
in the single funkiest shakedown in human history.
They each had to pay $900 to get their cars out of the impound,
with the exception of the one person
whose car was actually stolen from the lot
to which it had been towed,
which seems like the sort of thing
the police should be investigating, if they weren't
too busy raiding art gallery funk nights.
And at this point, you may be thinking, well, sure,
the police departments are getting
a lot of money from seizing stuff,
but I'm sure there are limitations
on how they can spend it.
Well, allow me to take you to a 2012 Columbia, Missouri,
citizen police review board hearing.
How do you decide forfeiture funds?
You know, it's usually based on a need.
Well, I take that back.
Discretion I'd imagine you sign off on.
Yeah. There's some limitations on it.
You know, it's--actually,
there's not really on the forfeiture stuff.
Actually, there's basically no limitations at all,
come to think of it.
We're essentially gods. We're gods.
We're like the anti-Spiderman-- great power, no responsibility.
I can't believe this hasn't come up before.
And look, his honesty was not over.
It's--we just usually base it on something that
would be nice to have,
that we can't get in the budget, for instance.
We try not to use it for things that we need to depend on
because we need to go ahead and have those purchased.
But it's kind of like pennies from heaven, you know.
It gets you a toy or something that you need,
is the way we typically look at it.
That's right. That's right.
They buy toys with pennies from heaven.
Although you should know, those pennies may not be
falling from heaven, so much as from the pockets of the people
they're holding upside down and shaking.
And in terms of what kind of toys police departments buy,
that really depends.
For instance, in Massachusetts,
one D.A.'s office used forfeiture money
to buy their own Zamboni,
even though auditors noted, "We could not determine
"where this machine was located
or the law enforcement purpose it serves."
Although that last one is obvious.
Just think about it. If you are robbing a bank,
and the police pull up in a Zamboni,
you're gonna give yourself up
just out of sheer curiosity.
And in Texas, in Texas, one D.A.'s office
had an even more imaginative idea.
And I'll let a concerned citizen at a public hearing
tell you all about it.
That's true. In Texas,
they bought a margarita machine.
They were literally using this money
as their own personal slush fund.
They were literal-- it's perfect.
The analogy is perfect.
And, look, look, if the police need money for equipment,
we should clearly be giving it to them.
And if they need money for margarita machines,
they should be fucking paying for that themselves.
But these civil forfeiture laws
have warped law enforcement priorities and perception.
And nowhere is that more clear than Philadelphia.
FEMALE REPORTER: Philadelphia officials over a 10-year period
have seized more than 1,000 houses, about 3,300 vehicles,
and $44 million in cash in civil forfeitures.
Holy shit.
Usually when someone describes something taking
3,000 vehicles and 1,000 houses,
they're talking about a fucking hurricane.
One of those houses belonged to the Sourovelis family,
and the reason for that seizure
seems a little harsh from the outside.
FEMALE REPORTER: Police arrested their 22-year-old son Yanni
on drug charges, $40 worth of heroin,
and claim he was selling drugs out of the home.
Police and prosecutors came armed with a lawsuit
against the house itself.
Exactly, because remember, the parents aren't on trial,
the house is, which is clearly ridiculous.
The only drug-containing house that needs a lawsuit against it
is this one.
You're on the edge. You're on the edge, House!
You're this close!
You're this close to losing your job!
You're good, damn it. You're good, House!
You're close, House, you're close, but you're good.
But you're so close!
But you're so good, House.
And once their house was seized,
the Sourovelises got to experience
the final problem with civil forfeiture.
Recourse can be incredibly difficult.
FEMALE REPORTER: Here in Philadelphia,
if you have your property taken,
you can come here to city hall
and go to courtroom 478 and try to get it back.
Problem is, the people that are taking the belongings are also
the ones calling the shots inside the courtroom.
The Sourovelises showed up to courtroom 478
ready to plead their case to a judge.
Instead, they say, they faced
a prosecutor from the D.A.'s office.
That's right. Their first step in challenging
the police seizing their property was in a courtroom
without a judge hearing their case.
How can you even still call that a courtroom?
If you take all the doctors out of a hospital
and replace them with otters, that's no longer a hospital.
It's better, it's much better, but it's not a hospital.
I don't know what--I love it, but it's not a hospital.
In fact, recourse is so difficult
that most people who've lost stuff to civil forfeiture
just choose to walk away rather than fight.
So at this point, it should seem obvious
that the bad may be starting to outweigh the good
with civil forfeiture laws.
So we've really got two choices.
We can take a hard look at reforming them
or, at the very least, we need to reform
our network cop dramas to make them a lot more representative
of what is actually happening.
ANNOUNCER: Coming soon...
Get ready to go inside
the thrilling world of civil forfeiture.
Knock, knock. Freeze. Police.
Hands on the ground. Get off the sofa.
WOMAN: Keep them where we can see them.
You're under arrest.
What for? You guys got nothing on me.
Not you. Cell phone.
ANNOUNCER: Coming this fall-- a procedural about
law enforcement's shadiest procedure.
Rough night, huh?
Well, it's about to get a lot rougher.
What's 2,500 in cash
doing hanging out in somebody's glove box? Huh?
Answer me.
ANNOUNCER: These cops are determined, and they won't stop
until they get everything, every last thing.
You're dirty, right? Drug deal, guns, what is it?
I can't help you if you don't talk to me!
I'm going to beat the shit out you.
Detective Forfacci, Civil Forfeiture Unit.
ANNOUNCER: Brace yourself for heart-pounding takedowns.
Resisting arrest. Send in backup.
ANNOUNCE: The defendants are inanimate,
but the drama is anything but.
Frisk him.
There's a pile of silver dollars next door
that says you did it.
You will lose and I will win.
*
Stay on the streets too long,
the city leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
Hey, I know what'll get it out.
[Whirring]
[Applause]
I'm gonna crumple you up
till you look like a cat's asshole.
That's our show! We'll be back in two weeks!
Thank you so much for watching. Good night.
[Cheering and applause]
This is nothing more than a,
it's kind of a tap dance.
Speaking of which, here.
[Tapping]
Yeah?
Do you want anything from the vending machine?
[Humming]
[Door closes]
You think I care about you?
If it were up to me,
I'd take a wad of gum,
stick it right on Andrew Jackson's smug fucking face,
crumple you up, stuff you in a pair of old Dockers,
throw you in a washing machine on permanent press,
then hand you off to a toddler
with a pair of scissors and a marker
and tell him to make confetti.
Well, looks like I'm the one
that tennys mucho, mucho deniro in my trucky trailer.