Silent Laughter: George Carlin Dies at 71

If you want to know what a moronic word "lifestyle" is, all you have to do is realize that in a technical sense, Atilla the Hun had an active outdoor lifestyle. – George Carlin

A legend passed on yesterday. From AFP:

Irreverent US comedian George Carlin, who became known as a voice of the 1970s counterculture and was one of the country's best known funny men, died on Sunday aged 71, US media reported.

The Grammy award winner, whose career spanned five decades, died of heart failure, his publicist Jeff Abraham told the New York Times.

Carlin had a history of heart problems and passed away in Santa Monica, California after checking into the hospital with chest pains.

As a former stand-up comic, his passing has special meaning for me, and so I feel honored to be able to pay him tribute. Although he is gone from the realm of the flesh, his spirit lives on, no more evident than in my thoughts as I read that article:


"Grammy award-winning?" That's what you're gonna go with? The guy was the combined Mozart, Thomas Edison, and Che Guevera of comedy, and you're punctuating that with an award that Milli Vanilli won. Classic.

And, "His career spanned 5 decades?" What the f@#k is that? Like he's the Minnie Minoso of showbiz. Yes, that's Carlin's legacy, crummy awards and longevity.

While I feel privileged to write about Carlin, it also sucks, because there's no way I could write some somber career highlights sheet, peppered with melodramatic phrases like, "...his voice was forever stilled..." and ending with, "...he will be missed...," because I would run the very real risk that George would haunt me from beyond the grave with a constant repetition of his "Seven Dirty Words."

On the other hand, trying to be funny is a losing proposition. I'd be better off trying to cook a funeral banquet for Wolfgang Puck. Given the choice, however, I'd rather try, then fail, than set suckiness as my goal.

It should be noted that Carlin was famous for those Seven Words, which resulted in a landmark Supreme Court decision, upholding the right of the (unelected) FCC to decide that Janet Jackson's tit is more offensive than carpet-bombing a city live on television.

What is even funnier is that, in 2003, Republican Congressman Doug Ose introduced a bill into the House of Representatives that consisted of the following:

H. R. 3687 December 8, 2003

A BILL

To amend section 1464 of title 18, United States Code, to provide for the punishment of certain profane broadcasts, and for other purposes.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That section 1464 of title 18, United States Code, is amended--

(1) by inserting `(a)' before `Whoever'; and

(2) by adding at the end the following:

`(b) As used in this section, the term `profane', used with respect to language, includes the words `shit', `piss', `fuck', `cunt', `asshole', and the phrases `cock sucker', `mother fucker', and `ass hole', compound use (including hyphenated compounds) of such words and phrases with each other or with other words or phrases, and other grammatical forms of such words and phrases (including verb, adjective, gerund, participle, and infinitive forms).'.

Shit! They closed the "Infinitive Loophole!"

I didn't know George, but if it was me, I'd be a little pissed off if all I got remembered for was one bit that I did in 1972. Sure, everyone knows he was a legend, but that's the bit that everyone brings up. How would feel if you were Beethoven, and everyone you met was like, "Dun-Dun-Dun-DUHHHHHH...?"

Let me tell you what George Carlin meant to me. You can go to Wikipedia to find out that he was the first to host Saturday Night Live, or that he had a sitcom on Fox.

At his core, George Carlin was an entertainer, a stand-up comic. The roles of anti-hero, provocateur, foul-mouthed sage, all were in service of that craft. Most people will focus on Carlin's "controversial" nature, and the taboo subjects he would touch upon. For me, it was his technique.

Doing stand-up comedy is a lot like quieting an angry mob, except you also have to make them laugh. Once you've accomplished your mission of getting them to put out their torches and lay down their pitchforks, the number one goal is to keep them on your side. Not Carlin.

He would launch into these long, laugh-free setups, often on the most objectionable topic imaginable, and you could feel the audience beginning to drift. He'd keep going, until he had completely, and deliberately, lost the audience.

But then, just at the instant that a cascade of jeers and beer bottles was about to rain down on him, he would pull them all back like a yoyo on a mile-long string. It was here that Carlin took his work from science to magic. For a stand-up comic, it was harrowing to watch, but he never failed.

Anyone familiar with Carlin's routines knows that he is in a better place now, his transformation to a plastic, circular form complete, his perch upon a high rooftop secure, and his unique voice stilled forever. He will be missed.