Chris Rock is one of the most important comedians of our generation. I am awed by how his mind works. What is fascinating is the methodology by which he processes subjects such as politics, relationships, social injustice and simple everyday things that the average person dares not say aloud.

I laugh hardest at Rock’s political humor and O.J. Simpson jokes. The time when he told the world in one of his stand-up comedy specials that Simpson had left a message on his answering machine regarding one of his jokes? I had a hard time catching my breath from laughing so hard.

Rock has a way setting up the joke and just letting it land right in the pit of your gut. I have been following his career from “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka” (“How much for one rib?”) to “New Jack City” and “Saturday Night Live,” from “Pootey Tang” to “Good Hair,” from “Everybody Hates Chris” to “Death at a Funeral.” I am a Chris Rock fan.

That is why I can say with conviction that within the traumatic year since the Oscars, Chris has changed.

The “Selective Outrage” Netflix global special was selective in its timing. Sunday, March 12, will mark a year since the slap. The assault. It also will be Oscar night. Will Smith and his film “Emancipation” are not nominated. In addition, Smith will not be attendance, of course, because the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has banned him from the event for ten years.

Should “Emancipation” have been nominated, and Smith in the Best Actor category? Of course. But let’s face it. It was grace that got the movie released in the first place after what went down. So complaining about “Emancipation” not getting nominated is pushing it. Yes, I am a Will Smith also known as The Fresh Prince fan. That is why all of this is painful to opine about.

It is unfortunate that we have to go into the not-so-distant past and relive the madness. The shock. The horror. But the difference between me and Chris Rock is that Will Smith did not slap my face in front of a worldwide audience, and I do not have to look at that face every time I stand in front of the mirror. I do not have to replay that assault over and over in my mind because it did not happen to me. It happened to Chris Rock.

That is why I say that Chris has changed. I could tell that he was different as he placed the Prince symbol necklace around his neck backstage. His wardrobe was different. Instead of his usual black ensemble, Chris opted for all white. His button-down shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbow. It seemed as if Chris was on a mission. He was ready to get it done and over with. He was ready to get straight down to business. And he did.

“Selective Outrage” was an hour of straight rage. No, Rock was not yelling and screaming like Sam Kinison. But the rage was right there on the surface. You could almost touch it as it pulsated in him. I believe that is what fueled the show itself. Rage. Straight, unadulterated rage.

The rage took the wind out of the sails for what could have otherwise been some pretty funny jokes. I chuckled at the comparison of dating younger women as opposed to dating middleaged women. I laughed outright at the Kris Jenner and dysfunctional Black men joke. That was funny! The Meghan Markle and the royal family jokes were priceless!

I could not help but to sense, however, that we were on a train and Rock was the conductor. His blind fury was in jeopardy of causing him to make the train jump the tracks. Every time a joke landed in a not-so-humorous manner, I would think “Oh no! That’s it!” Yet it was not, and Rock kept chugging towards the source of the rage. By the time he arrived at the Oscar night slap and his funny commentary on Jada Pinkett Smith’s “entanglement” with August Alsina, and how Smith looked to the world behind all of that, I felt laughter bubbling up from deep down. That good, hearty laughter.

Chris laughed too, but he wasn’t really laughing. Rage had taken over. Rage was laughing. Rage laughed and joked at how much Chris loved Will Smith. Rage reminisced about going to see The Fresh Prince in concert in the mid-’80s. Rage joked about the size comparison between him and Smith, who rage nicknamed Suge Smith. Rage laughed about how much the slap hurt and how his ear was ringing with “Summertime.”

Chris told two jokes that featured Snoop Dogg and Jay Z, and ended both with how he needed to stop because he did not want another confrontation “with a mad rapper.” But rage did not care if the Fresh Prince was offended, or if Will Smith was mad.

I understood that. I was not offended by “Selective Outrage.” I understood that the title of the Netflix special was a dig primarily aimed at Smith. Chris’ rage was not selective. Rock’s rage was definitive and consuming. We were laughing, but Chris Rock was not laughing. Rage was doing all the laughing.

I hope that one day he is able to look at himself in the mirror and not see rage as his doppelganger. I want the old Chris Rock back.