"It's not how long you make it, it's how you make it long!"
Wow. I simply could not believe it when I heard the news that George Carlin had died. You just think some people are going to live forever. There have been some great tributes to him on the net, and rewatching old videos of George Carlin, you really realize just how much he influenced other comedians, like Jerry Seinfeld, with his "observational" humor -- taking existing ordinary words or situations and revealing the humor, or stupidity, or both!
My dad was a huge fan of George Carlin and I remember listening to his routines with my dad when I was young. I didn't always quite "get" everything when I was ten, but I did understand his comment on bad breath -- "Marge you could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon" -- which became a part of our family's vernacular! The Hippie Dippie weatherman (so don't sweat the thundershowers!) and for some reason I remember a routine where he talks about putting bay leaves under his arms instead of using antiperspirant (I'm bean with bacon!). I really loved his use of words and his poem "Hair" has always been a favorite of mine:
I'm aware some stare at my hair.
In fact, to be fair,
Some really despair of my hair.
But I don't care,
Cause they're not aware,
Nor are they debonair.
In fact, they're just square.
They see hair down to there,
Say, "Beware" and go off on a tear!
I say, "No fair!"
A head that's bare is really nowhere.
So be like a bear, be fair with your hair!
Show it you care.
Wear it to there.
Or to there.
Or to there, if you dare!
My wife bought some hair at a fair, to use as a spare.
Did I care?
Au contraire!
Spare hair is fair!
In fact, hair can be rare.
Fred Astaire got no hair,
Nor does a chair,
Nor nor a chocolate eclair,
And where is the hair on a pear?
Nowhere, mon frere!
So now that I've shared this affair of the hair,
I'm going to repair to my lair and use Nair,
do you care?
(Beard Poem)
Here's my beard.
Ain't it weird?
Don't be sceered,
It's just a beard
Although he was very angry and critical of the political system and society in general, for some reason he always seemed very accessible, and not prickly or scary. Maybe it was the cuddly tone of his voice, but he always seemed really friendly to me. Maybe that's why he was the narrative voice of the American version of Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends, and played Mr. Conductor on Shining Time Station!
From his obituary on the World Socialist Website:
"Swept up by the radicalized times, Carlin changed his image and the contents of his act in 1970, and never looked back. After some career setbacks as a result of his new material, he developed a wide following with his album “FM & AM” in 1972. A portion of his longer routine, “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television,” i.e., ‘obscene’ words, appeared on that album. Carlin was arrested in Milwaukee in 1972 for performing the routine, which is an extended and sometimes lyrical consideration of “filthy words.”
When the routine was broadcast on WBAI in New York in 1973, the radio station was cited by the Federal Communications Commission. The US Supreme Court eventually ruled that the material was “indecent but not obscene,” and that the government could ban such broadcasts during hours when children were likely to be listening.
The scatological element in Carlin’s routines could be overdone, and often was, but there was more to his comedy than that.
To give him credit, the comedian had an extraordinary command of words and a serious attitude toward language and its misuse, especially by those with power and money. He is one of those comics, and there are not too many around at present, whose material can be read and appreciated.
Carlin expressed nothing but contempt for official political life and religion. His humor had a Swiftian, mordant quality at its best. For example, in the routine, “Legal Murder Once a Month,” in which he suggests that killing is not one of those things that should be left up to the state. “I believe the killing of human beings is just one more function of government that needs to be privatized.”
After outlining his “Legal Murder Once a Month” plan, he continues: “I want you to know there’s nothing in the Constitution to prevent any of this. The state doesn’t actually oppose murder, it simply objects to those who go into business for themselves. When it comes to the taking of human life, the federal government doesn’t want free-lance competition.”
Or consider “The American Businessman’s Ten Steps to Product Development”: “1. Can I cut corners in the design? 2. Can it be shoddily built? 3. Can I use cheap materials? 4. Will it create hazards for my workers? 5. Will it harm the environment? 6. Can I evade the safety laws? 7. Will children die from it? 8. Can I overprice it? 9. Can it be falsely advertised? 10. Will it force smaller competitors out of business?
“Excellent. Let’s get busy.”
In his “Golf Courses for the Homeless,” Carlin commented: “When the United States is not invading some sovereign nation—or setting it on fire from the air, which is more fun for our simple-minded pilots—we’re usually busy ‘declaring war’ on something here at home,” i.e. “a war on crime, a war on poverty, a war on litter, a war on cancer.” There’s no war on homelessness, “because there’s no money in it.”
Carlin proposes: “I know just the place to build housing for the homeless: golf courses. It’s perfect. Plenty of good land in nice neighborhoods that is currently being squandered on a mindless activity engaged in by white, well-to-do business criminals who use the game to get together so they can make deals to carve this country up a little finer among themselves.”
The comedian declares his own war in particular on euphemisms: “I don’t like euphemistic language, words that shade the truth. American English is packed with euphemism, because Americans have trouble dealing with reality, and in order to shield themselves from it they use soft language. And it gets worse with every generation.”
As an example, Carlin describes the evolution of that “condition in combat that occurs when a soldier is completely stressed out and is on the verge of nervous collapse.” In World War I, he points out, the condition was known as “shell shock. Simple, honest direct language. Two syllables.”
By the time of World War II, it was called “battle fatigue.” “Doesn’t seem to hurt as much. ‘Fatigue’ is a nicer word than ‘shock.’” During the Korean War, the authorities came up with the expression, “operational exhaustion.” Carlin comments: “The phrase was up to eight syllables now, and any last traces of humanity had been completely squeezed out of it. It was absolutely sterile: operational exhaustion. Like something that could happen to your car.”
Then, he says, “we got into Vietnam, and thanks to the deceptions surrounding that war, it’s no surprise that the very same condition was referred to as ‘post-traumatic stress disorder.’ ... I’ll bet if they had still been calling it ‘shell shock,’ some of those Vietnam veterans might have received the attention they needed.” The comic describes the ‘New Language’ as the ‘language that takes the life out of life.’
Carlin lists some of the other euphemisms that have entered the language during his lifetime, among them: “false teeth=dental appliances,” “used cars=previously owned vehicles,” “riot=civil disorder,” “strike=job action,” “drug addiction=substance abuse,” “gambling joint=gaming resort,” “wife beating=domestic violence” and so on.
He has a lovely time with language in general, and its oddities. For example, in this routine on the lingo used in airport announcements. “To begin their boarding process, the airline announces they will preboard certain passengers. And I wonder, How can that be? How can people board before they board?” Later: “I’m told to get on the plane. ... And I think for a moment: ‘On the plane? No, my friends, not me. I’m not getting on the plane; I’m getting in the plane. Let Evil Knievel get on the plane, I’ll be sitting inside one of those little chairs. It seems less windy to me.’
“Then they mention it’s a nonstop flight. Well, I must say I don’t care for that sort of thing. Call me old-fashioned, but I insist that my flight stop. Preferably at an airport.”
And then there’s the inevitable safety lecture, which contains this phrase, “In the unlikely event of a water landing...’ A water landing! Am I mistaken, or does this sound somewhat similar to ‘crashing into the ocean’?”
Carlin takes a look at expressions “we take for granted. We use them all the time, yet never examine them carefully.”
For example, “Legally drunk. Well, if it’s legal what’s the problem? ‘Leave me alone, officer, I’m legally drunk.’”
George Carlin will be missed.
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