Brain Droppings Part 5

For instance, the first human sacrifice. Not of the enemy, but the first ritual killing of a member of your own tribe. Someone had to announce it to the people. Someone with authority, but probably not the top guy. A sergeant. A primitive sergeant, addressing a band of early cave people-hunters, gatherers, whatever-explaining the human sacrifice. Of course, first he would have to get his other announcements out of the way.

"OK, listen up! You people in the trees, you wanna pay attention? The guys in the bushes, would ya put the woman down? All right. Now, is everybody here? Andy, check the caves. Make sure everybody's out here. And Andy, . . . don't wake up the bears! OK? Remember what happened last time. We can't spare any more people.

"OK, a few things I wanna go over, then I'm gonna tell ya about somethin' new. Somethin' we haven't tried before, so I don't want ya to be nervous. I know ya don't like new things. I remember last year a lotta people freaked out when someone came up with the wheel. People went nuts! They said, Well, this is it, it's all over, it's the end of the world, bla, bla, bla. Then somebody pointed out that we didn't have any axles. I think it was Richie. He said if we really wanted to invent something special, we oughta come up with the axle. I guess you're always gonna have a coupla wise guys. 150 "But anyway, we went ahead and made a coupla hundred of these big stone wheels, which is kinda stupid when you think about it. The only thing you can do with 'em is roll 'em down the hill. Which isn't such a top notch idea. I think the people who live at the bottom of the hill will bear me out on that.

"OK, movin' along here. It has come to my attention that some people have been drawin' pictures on the walls of the caves. Pictures of bulls, antelopes, a coupla horses. I think I even seen a goat on one wall. Listen, lemme tell you somethin'. It might seem like fun to you, but it looks awful. If ya can't keep the place clean, maybe ya don't deserve a nice cave. Ya don't see the bats drawin' pictures on the walls, do ya? No. They hang upside down, they take a c.r.a.p, they don't bother anybody.

"You people don't know when you're well off. Maybe ya'd like to go back to livin' in the trees, huh? Remember that? Remember the trees? Competin' with the baboons and gibbons for hazelnuts and loganberries? Degrading! So there'll be no more drawin' on the walls! Coupla thousand years from now, people are gonna come here, and they're gonna study these caves. The last thing they wanna see is a lotta horse pictures on the walls.

"OK, continuin' on. As some of you mighta noticed, last night the fire went out. Coupla the guys on guard duty were jackin' around, playin' graba.s.s, and one of 'em, Octavio, the short guy with the bushy hair. Well, one of the short guys with the bushy hair. Anyways, Octavio fell on the fire, and the fire went out. Unfortunately for Octavio, he died in the incident. Unfortunately for us, he was the only one who knew how to GEORGE CARLIN light the fire. So we're gonna have a contest. The first h get a fire goin', and keep it goin', wins a prize. It's a 1 Nothin' fancy. Just a regular hat. The kind with the earlap, "OK, next item. We're startin' to get some complai t from the women about dating procedures. This mainly c( ^ cerns the practice of clubbin' the women on the head u^d draggin' 'em back to the cave by the hair. They would like. to i discontinue this practice, especially the hair part. It se&ms some of them go to a lot of trouble and expense to fix UD their hair for a date, and they feel the draggin' has a nega_ tive effect on their appearance. As far as the clubbin; js concerned, they'd like to elminate that too, because ^^ happens is a lot of 'em have an enjoyable date, and then tw $ can't remember it in the mornin'.

"Movin' right along. As you all know, it's been our practice when we find a new plant that looks good to eat, we test it on the dogs to see if it's poison. Does everyone the berries we tested last week on the big brown dog? many ate the berries simply because the dog didn't die that ^ day? Quite a few. Well, I got bad news. The dog died last rqght. Apparently it was a slow-actin' poison. Yes, Laszlo? You didn't eat the berries? But this mornin' you ate the dog. Vell, Laszlo, ya got about a week. Food chain! How many tim&s do A. I gotta tell you people? Food chain! By the way, anyone %ho's gettin' into that new cannibalism c.r.a.p-I won't mention any names-I'd strongly suggest not eatin' Laszlo-or anyone else for that matter.

"All right, now we gotta talk about the Hated Ba%d of Enemy People Who Live in the Dark Valley. As some (of ya brain droppings might know, they snuck into camp last night and stole a bunch of our stuff. They got those sticks we were savin'. They got the rocks we piled up near the big tree. And they also took sixteen trinkets; the ones we got in a trade with the Friendly Bent-over People from the Tall Mountain Near the Sun. I think it was them. It was either them or the Guys with the Really Big Foreheads Down by the River. Anyways, as I recall, we came off a cool two hundred animal skins for those trinkets, and frankly, the Chief and I think we got screwed. By the way, speakin' of screwin', they also stole several of our women last night. Along with a couple of those sensitive men we've been usin' as women.

"OK, a new problem has come up that we're gonna have to deal with. It concerns the growin' menace of people chewin' the leaves of the dream plant. It's gotten completely outta hand. At first it wasn't so bad. After a long day of huntin', or gatherin'-whatever-people would chew a coupla leaves to relax. Recreational chewin'. No harm, no foul. But then some guys couldn't leave it alone. They would chew way too much and lose control. Some of them became verbally abusive. Of course, they couldn't help what they were sayin'. It wasn't them talkin', it was the leaves. But, hey, nevertheless!

"Then we found out some people were chewin' on the job. Not only endangerin' the lives of their co-hunters or co-gatherers-whatever-but also lowerin' the amount of food we acquire, while somehow, at the same time, greatly increasin' the rate of consumption of their own food. One of the gatherers, a short guy with bushy hair, I think it was Norris, got whacked outta his skull on leaves last week, and 152.

b T a d r o p P i n "Anyway, this new custom is quite different, and it might k come as somethin' of a surprise to ya, so make sure you're Or at least leanin' on somethin' firm. You peo dift ove C A R L I N A GEORGE he came in from gatherin', with a grand total a grand total of six berries and one nut. And this been out in the bushes for eight days! a<>

n v "But now we're runnin' into an even more serious that affects the safety of everyone. It seems that some are chewin' the leaves and then runnin' around in Cic high speed. As a result we're startin' to get a huge increase ' the number of accidents. People are crashin' into each othe Please! Try to remember. Chewin' and runnin' around in circles at high speed don't mix. If you're gonna run around in circles don't chew; and if you're gonna chew, for G.o.d's sake, don't be runnin' around in circles. Designate someone.

"So try to be aware of the signs of leaf abuse. If you're chewin' in the mornin', you got a problem. If you're chewin' alone, you got a problem. It's no disgrace. Get some help. Say no to leaves. " K "OK, now, like I said earlier, we got a new thing we're gonna be doin', and I wanna announce it today. It's gonna be a custom. Remember customs? Who can name a custom?

Nat? Goin' to sleep at night? Well, that's close, Nat. That's almost like a custom. Who else can name a custom? Killing the animals before we eat them? OK, actually, Jules, that's more like a necessity, isn't it? More like a necessity. Lookin'

for a custom. Another custom. Dwayne? Washin' the rocks and dryin' them off before you throw them at the enemy durin' a rock fight? Is that what you been doin', Dwayne? Really! Well, I guess that would explain the disproportion ately high number of rock injuries in your squad, wouldn't it? ,;-:-?> ;-. >-*.<,??, -.??..="" .,="" come="" as="" somethin'="" of="" a="" surprise="" to="" ya,="" o^="" ^__.="" sittin'="" down.="" or="" at="" least="" leanin'="" on="" somethin'="" firm.="" you="" people="" standin'="" over="" near="" the="" cliff,="" you="" might="" wanna="" drift="" over="" this="" way="" a="">

"Now. I want ya to remember that no matter what I say, this is gonna please the Corn G.o.d. OK? [Slowly, as if to children] The new custom ... is gonna help . . . with the corn. Remember a coupla years ago we had no corn, and we hadda eat the trees? And a lotta people died? How many wanna go back to eatin' the trees? OK, I rest my case. Yeah? Dwayne? You thought the trees were pretty good? Ya never disappoint me, Dwayne, ya know that? Folks, ya don't have to look very K far for a tragic example of abusin' the dream plant, do ya? "All right, here's the new thing we're gonna do, it's called a human sacrifice. Each week, to appease the Corn G.o.d, we're gonna kill one member of the tribe. All right, calm down! C'mon, sit down! Hey! Hold on! Hear me out on this, would . ya? Just relax and hear me out on this. We're gonna start havin' a human sacrifice every week, probably on Sat.u.r.day night. That's when everybody seems to loosen up pretty good. So startin' next Sat.u.r.day night, about the time we run outta berry juice, we're gonna pick one person, probably a ^ young virgin, and we'll throw her in the volcano. All right, girls! Please! Siddown! Please! Stop with the rocks!! Calm down, ladies. We're not gonna do it today. I promise. Relax. "OK, so we throw the virgin in the volcano. By the way, how many remember the volcano? Remember the fire? Remember the lava? What word comes to mind when we think brain droppings GEORGE CARLIN about the volcano? Hot! Right. The volcano is hot. What's that h Dwayne? No. No way. If this idea's gonna work at all, it's gotta be done while the volcano is actually erupting. I don't think the Corn G.o.d is gonna be impressed if we throw some chick in a dormant volcano. It's meaningless. I think he's lookin' for ^ somethin' with a little more screamin' involved. "OK, so we throw the virgin in the volcano. What's that? i How does this help with the corn? Good question. Look, Morley, I just make the announcements, OK? I'm not involved with policy. It came down from the high priests, that's all you gotta know. This is one of those things you just gotta accept on faith. It's like that custom we started last year of cuttin' off a guy's head to keep him from stealin'. At first it seemed ^ severe, am I right? But ya gotta admit, it seems to work. "OK, one last point: You say, Why does it have to be a young virgin; why can't we throw a wrinkled old man in the volcano? Lemme put it this way. Did y'ever get a real good, close look at the high priests? OK. Once again, I rest my case. "Now, the only problem we antic.i.p.ate with this new cus- torn is the distinct possibility of runnin' out of virgins. Ya gotta figure best case scenario we're not gonna see any corn till late next year, so it looks like we're gonna be waxin' virgins at quite a clip. And hey! . . . girls, don't take this the k wrong way ... but we don't have that many virgins to begin with, do we? Ha-ha-ha-ha!! No offense, girls! Really! No, hey, you're very lovely.

"Well, that's it, folks. Thanks for listenin'. Good night. Walk home slowly. And walk safely. In case you didnt notice, the sun went down, and it's completely f.u.c.kin' dark- Brain Droppings y observEdl (oil euphemisms actual = holistic ma.s.sage therapy liEQP llOttl = limited service lodging = interim financing = custodial interference mottfESJ ond box spring = sleep system SnQCKJOD = live-in companion W StOP = travel plaza USED UIQEOCOSSEttE = previously viewed ca.s.sette Ullrf DEQtfflj] = intermittent explosive disorder = performing arts center = nail technician nUQC DEQCl) = clothing optional beach pEEpnOlE = observation port DQIQI)ESS = acquired uncombable hair = remains pouches = deficit water situation rECESSIOI) = a meaningful downturn in aggregate output 111 IOUE = emotionally involved lOOm ClEfK = guest service agent ?56.

GEORGE CARLIN.

brain droppings I1QRE FAVORITE EUTHEtlSHS = career apparel SEQt Dlt!/Qir DQQ = impact management system = commercial s.e.x worker = marital aid nOllbeliEUErS= the unchurched = resume enhancement = pregnancy loss = batons = commodity relocation = adult entertainer fOOID SEFUiff = private dining = party s.p.a.ce = pipe-frame exercise unit X = makeshift home finpprinting= digital imaging ffltlOdl = big woman JlinKlES = the user population apflrtmEI)t= dwelling unit committee = task force = room attendant = product specialist bO(l lOOItt = nonperforming a.s.sets SEQSJCknCSS = motion discomfort QQRQS = nontraditional organized crime CiUiliOIldEOtllS= collateral damage pl)ling]Oint= gaming resort IDOlE = beauty mark giirbQgf COllECtiOl) = environmental services bfEOSt = white meat = dark meat = bio-solids = ethnic cleansing = sports utility vehicle = learning resources center jllllk mail = direct marketing SOdajerk = fountain attendant soldiers and weapons = military a.s.sets thirdflOOr= level three illegal immigrant = guest worker JEtSKI = personal watercraft loafers 158.

GEORGE CARLIN.

I know I'm a little late with his, but I'd like to get a f licks in on this bogus topic before it completely disappea from everyone's consciousness.

First, I want to be really clear about one thing: as far as other people's feelings are concerned-especially these "victim groups"-when I deal with them as individuals, I will call them whatever they want. When it's one on one, if some guy wants me to call him a morbidly obese, African-ancestored male with a same-gendered s.e.xual orientation I'll be glad to do that. On the other hand, if he wants me to call him a fat n.i.g.g.e.r c.o.c.ksucker, then that's what it will be. I'm here to please.

If I meet a woman who wishes to be referred to as a motion-impaired, same-gender-oriented Italian-American who is difficult to deal with, fine. On the other hand, I am perfectly willing to call her a crippled, Guinea d.y.k.e c.u.n.t if she prefers. I'm not trying to change anyone's self-image. But! But! When I am speaking generally, and impersonally, about a large group of people, especially these victim groups, I will call them what I think is honest and fair. And I will try not to bulls.h.i.t myself.

OK, so, who exactly are these victims? Well, first of all, I don't think everyone who says he's a victim automatically qualifies. I don't think a homely, disfigured, bald minority person with a room-temperature IQ who limps and stutters is necessarily always a victim. Although I will say she prob ably shouldn't be out trying to get work as a receptionist. But maybe that's just the way it oughta be. ; 160 6.brain d r o p p i n g s I'm more interested in real victims. People who have been chronically and systematically f.u.c.ked over by the system. Because the United States is a Christian racist nation with a rigged economic system run for three hundred years by the least morally qualified of the two s.e.xes, there were bound to be some real victims. People who've been elaborately f.u.c.ked over.

The way I see it, this country has only four real victim-groups: Indians, blacks, women, and gays. I purposely left out the Spanish and Asians, because when you look at what happened to the Indians and blacks, the Spanish and Asian people have had a walk in the park. It's not even close. Not to downplay the s.h.i.t they've had to eat, but in about one hundred years the Spanish and Asians are going to be running this country, so they'll have plenty of chances to get even with the gray people.

Let's get to some of these other non-victims. You probably noticed, elsewhere I used the word fat. I used that word because that's what fat people are. They're fat. They're not large; they're not stout, chunky, hefty, or plump. And they're not big-boned. Dinosaurs are big-boned. These people are not necessarily obese, either. Obese is a medical term. And they're not overweight. Overweight implies there is some correct weight. There is no correct weight. Heavy is also a misleading term. An aircraft carrier is heavy; it's not fat. Only people are fat, and that's what fat people are. They're fat. I offer no apology for this. It is not intended as criticism or insult. It is simply descriptive language. I don't like euphemisms. Euphemisms are a form of lying. Fat people are not gravitationally disad-vantaged. They're fat. I prefer seeing things the way they are, not the way some people wish they were.

GEORGE CARLIN.

brain d r o p p i n ; I don't believe certain groups deserve extra-special ?m names. w For instance, midgets and dwarfs are midgets and dwarfs They're not little people. Infants are little people; leprechauns are little people. Midgets and dwarfs are midgets and dwarfs 0 They don't get any taller by calling them little people. I wish their lives were different. I wish they didn't have to walk around staring at other people's crotches, but I can't fix that. And I'm not going to lie about what they are. The politically sensitive language commandos would probably like me to call them "vertically challenged." They're not vertically challenged. A skydiver is vertically challenged. The person who designed the Empire State Building was vertically challenged. 6 Midgets and dwarfs are midgets and dwarfs.

Also, crippled people are crippled, they're not differently-abled. If you insist on using tortured language like differently-abled, then you must include all of us. We're all differently-abled. You can do things I can't do; I can do . things you can't do. I can pick my nose with my thumb, and I can switch hands while masturbating and gain a stroke. We're all differently-abled. Crippled people are simply crippled. It's a perfectly honorable word. There is no shame in it. It's in the Bible: "Jesus healed the cripples." He ^ didn't engage in rehabilitative strategies for the physically disadvantaged.

So, leaving aside women and gays for the moment, I've narrowed it down to blacks and Indians. Let's talk about what we ought to call them, and let's talk about what the language commandos would like us to call them. And remember, this > 6.

has nothing to do with the people themselves. It has to do with the words.

And, by the way, when it comes to these liberal language vandals, I must say I agree with their underlying premise: White Europeans and their descendants are morally unattractive people who are responsible for most of the world's suffering. That part is easy. You would have to be, uh, visually impaired not to see it. The impulse behind political correctness is a good one. But like every good impulse in America it has been grotesquely distorted beyond usefulness.

Clearly, there are victims, but I don't agree that these failed campus revolutionaries know what to do about them. When they're not busy curtailing freedom of speech, they're running around inventing absurd hyphenated names designed to make people feel better. Remember, these are the white elitists in their customary paternalistic role: protecting helpless, inept minority victims. Big Daddy White Boss always knows best.

So, let me tell you how I handle some of these speech issues. First of all, I say "black." I say "black" because most black people prefer "black." I don't say "people of color." People of color sounds like something you see when you're on mushrooms. Besides, the use of people of color is dishonest. It means precisely the same as colored people. If you're not willing to say "colored people," you shouldn't be saying "people of color."

Besides, the whole idea of color is bulls.h.i.t anyway. What should we call white people? "People of no color"? Isn't pink a color? In fact, white people are not really white at all, they're 162.

GEORGE CARL I N different shades of pink, olive, and beige. In other word 5 they're colored. And black people are rarely black. I see most' ly different shades of brown and tan. In fact, some light-skinned black people are lighter than the darkest white people Look how dark the people in India are. They're dark brown, but 4 they're considered white people. What's going on here? May I see the color chart? "People of color" is an awkward, bulls.h.i.t, *, liberal-guilt phrase that obscures meaning rather than enhancing it. Shall we call fat people, "people of size"?

By the way, I think the whole reason we're encouraged in this country to think of ourselves as "black and white" (instead of "pink and brown," which is what we are) is that black and white are complete opposites that cannot be rec-< p="">

I also don't say "African-American." I find it completely illogical, and furthermore it's confusing. Which part of Africa are we talking about? What about Egypt? Egypt is in Africa. Egyptians aren't black. They're like the people in India, they're dark brown white people. But they're Africans. So why wouldn't an Egyptian who becomes a U.S. citizen be ^ an African-American? The same thing goes for the Republic of South Africa. Suppose a white racist from South Africa becomes an American citizen? Well, first of all he'd find plenty of com pany, but couldn't he also be called an African-American? It , seems to me that a racist white South-African guy could k brain droppings come here and call himself African-American just to p.i.s.s off black people. And, by the way, what about a black person born in South Africa who moves here and becomes a citizen? What is he? An African-South-African-American? Or a South-African-African-American?

All right, back to this hemisphere. How about a black woman who is a citizen of Jamaica? According to P.C. doctrine, she's an African-Jamaican, right? But if she becomes a U.S. citizen, she's a Jamaican-American. And yet if one of these language crusaders saw her on the street, he'd think she was an African-American. Unless he knew her personally in which case he would have to decide between African-Jamaican-American and Jamaican-African-American. Ya know? It's just so much liberal bulls.h.i.t. Labels divide people. We need fewer labels, not more.

Now, the Indians. I call them Indians because that's what they are. They're Indians. There's nothing wrong with the word Indian. First of all, it's important to know that the word Indian does not derive from Columbus mistakenly believing he had reached "India." India was not even called by that name in 1492; it was known as Hindustan. More likely, the word Indian comes from Columbus's description of the people he found here. He was an Italian, and did not speak or write very good Spanish, so in his written accounts he called the Indians, "Una gente in Dios." A people in G.o.d. In G.o.d. In Dios. Indians. It's a perfectly n.o.ble and respectable word.

So let's look at this p.u.s.s.ified, trendy bulls.h.i.t phrase, Native Americans. First of all, they're not natives. They came over the EORCE CARLIN.

brain droppings k Bering land bridge from Asia, so they're not natives. There ar no natives anywhere in the world. Everyone is from somewhere else. All people are refugees, immigrants, or aliens If there were natives anywhere, they would be people who still live in the Great Rift valley in Africa where the human species arose. Everyone else is just visiting. So much for the "native" part of Native American.

As far as calling them "Americans" is concerned, do I even have to point out what an insult this is? Jesus Holy s.h.i.t Christ! We steal their hemisphere, kill twenty or so million* of them, destroy five hundred separate cultures, herd the survivors onto the worst land we can find, and now we want to name them after ourselves? It's appalling. Haven't we done enough damage? Do we have to further degrade them by tagging them with the repulsive name of their conquerers?

And as far as these cla.s.sroom liberals who insist on saying "Native American" are concerned, here's something they should be told: It's not up to you to name people and tell them what they ought to be called. If you'd leave the cla.s.sroom once in a while, you'd find that most Indians are insulted by the term Native American. The American Indian Movement will tell you that if you ask them.

The phrase "Native American" was invented by the U.S. government Department of the Interior in 1970. It is an inventory term used to keep track of people. It includes Hawaiians, Eskimos, Samoans, Micronesians, Polynesians, and Aleuts. Anyone who uses the phrase Native American ' Before 1492 there were 25 million people in Central America. By 1579 there were 2 million.

A 6 6.

is a.s.sisting the U.S. government in its effort to obliterate people's true ident.i.ties.

Do you want to know what the Indians would like to be called? Their real names: Adirondack, Delaware, Ma.s.sachuset, Narraganset, Potomac, Illinois, Miami, Alabama, Ottawa, Waco, Wichita, Mohave, Shasta, Yuma, Erie, Huron, Susquehanna, Natchez, Mobile, Yakima, Wallawalla, Muskogee, Spokan, Iowa, Missouri, Omaha, Kansa, Biloxi, Dakota, Hatteras, Klamath, Caddo, Tillamook, Washoe, Cayuga, Oneida, Onondaga, Seneca, Laguna, Santa Ana, Winnebago, Pecos, Cheyenne, Menominee, Yankton, Apalachee, Chinook, Catawba, Santa Clara, Taos, Arapaho, Blackfoot, Blackfeet, Chippewa, Cree, Cheyenne, Mohawk, Tuscarora, Cherokee, Seminole, Choctaw, Chickasaw, Comanche, Shoshone, Two Kettle, Sans Arc, Chiricahua, Kiowa, Mescalero, Navajo, Nez Perce, Potawatomi, Shawnee, p.a.w.nee, Chickahominy, Flathead, Santee, a.s.siniboin, Oglala, Miniconjou, Osage, Crow, Brule, Hunkpapa, Pima, Zuni, Hopi, Paiute, Creek, Kickapoo, Ojibwa, Shinnic.o.c.k.

You know, you'd think it would be a fairly simple thing to come over to this continent, commit genocide, eliminate the forests, dam up the rivers, build our malls and ma.s.sage parlors, sell our blenders and whoopee cushions, poison ourselves with chemicals, and let it go at that. But no. We have to compound the insult. Native Americans! I'm glad the Indians have gambling casinos now. It makes me happy that dimwitted white people are losing their rent money to the Indians. Maybe the Indians will get lucky and win their country back. Probably they wouldn't want it. Look what we did to it.

C A R L I N GEORGE.

People like to say that no matter how bad off your life is, there is always someone worse off than you. I guess it's a source of comfort. It's nice to know that while they're removing a bone from your throat, the man in the next room has a four hundred-pound tumor in his groin.

But the idea that there is always someone worse off leads to the logical conclusion that somewhere in the world there is a person who is in worse shape than everybody else. Some guy who has almost six billion people doing better than he is.

But, in reality, as you get down to the bottom of the bad-shape pile, it becomes harder and harder to know who's doing worse. Is a blind, paralyzed, maniac really better off than a three-foot, paraplegic imbecile? Tough call.

Then there's always my "Plus-a-Headache" formula. No matter how horrible and painful a person's condition may be, it can always be made worse by simply adding a headache: "He was poor, ignorant, diseased, lonely, depressed, and abandoned-plus he had a headache." Look on the bright side: The headache will very likely go away.

Everyone complains about this being a "victim society." Well, I don't know about the victim society, but I would like to talk about the "Grief, Tragedy, and Sympathy Industry."

The news media are playing a game with you. You're being fed a large ration of other people's troubles designed to keep your mind off the things that should really be bothering you. I guess the media figure if you're sitting around feeling ?68 brain droppings sorry for every sick, injured, or dead person they can scrounge up, you'll have less time to dwell on how f.u.c.ked up your own life is, and what bad shape this culture is really in.

I'm not so much opposed to grief per se, as I am to public media grief. My att.i.tude is f.u.c.k sick people and f.u.c.k a dead person. Unless I knew them. And, if so, I'll handle it on my own, thank you. I don't need media guidance to experience sorrow.

Above all, I object to the abuse of the word tragedy. Every time some a.s.shole stops breathing these days it's called a tragedy. The word has been devalued. You can't call every death a tragedy and expect the word to mean anything. For instance, multiple deaths do not automatically qualify as tragedies. Just because a man kills his wife and three kids, her lover, his lover, the baby-sitter, the mailman, the Amway lady, and the guy from Publishers' Clearing House and then blows his own brains out doesn't mean a tragedy has occurred. It's interesting. It's entertaining to read about. But it's not a tragedy.

The death of a child is also not automatically a tragedy. Some guy backing over his kid in the driveway is not a tragedy, it's a bad, bad mistake. A tragedy is a literary work in which the main character comes to ruin as a consequence of a moral weakness or a fatal flaw. Shakespeare wrote tragedies. A family of nine being wiped out when a train hits their camper is not a tragedy. It's called a traffic accident.

You wanna know what a tragedy is? A tragedy is when you see some fat b.a.s.t.a.r.d in the airport with pockmarks on his face and his belly hanging out, and he's with a woman 6 GEORGE C A R L I N who has bad teeth and multiple bruises, and that night he' i gonna make her suck his d.i.c.k. That's a tragedy. They don't mention that a lot on TV.

The media often refer to the killing of a white policeman as a tragedy. Why is that more tragic than the same white 0 policeman killing an unarmed black kid? Why is it never a tragedy on TV when a white cop kills a black kid? It's never presented in that way. The whites save tragedy for themselves. Why is that?

The media have elevated the marketing of bathos and sympathy to a fine art. But I gotta tell ya, I really don't care about a paraplegic who climbs a mountain and then skis cross-country for 50 miles; I'm not interested in a one-legged Q veteran who ice skates across Canada to raise money for children's prosthetics. I have no room for some guy without a nervous system who becomes the state wrestling champion; or a man who loses his torso in Vietnam and later holds his breath for six months to promote spina bifida research; or . someone born with no heart who lives to be ninety-five and helps everyone in his neighborhood neaten up their lawns.

Is this all we can find in America that pa.s.ses for personal drama? People overcoming long odds? G.o.d, it's so boring and predictable. ^ And does this mean we are supposed to admire people sim- ply because of the order of their luck? Because their bad luck j came first? What about the reverse? What about people who start well and then fail spectacularly in life? People who were born with every privilege and given every possible gift and tal ;??-??? ent, who had all the money they needed, were surrounded by brain droppings good people, and then went out and f.u.c.ked their lives up anyway? Isn't that drama too? Isn't that equally ineresting? In fact, I find it more interesting. More like true tragedy. 6 I'd prefer to hear something like that once in a while, rather than this pseudo-inspirational bulls.h.i.t that the media feel they have to feed us in order to keep our minds off America's decline. If they're going to insist that we really need to know about sick babies and cripples who tap dance and quadraplegic softball players, why don't they simply have a special television program called "Inspirational Stories"? That way I can turn the f.u.c.kin' thing off. I'm tired of people battling the odds. f.u.c.k the odds. And f.u.c.k the people who battle them. After a while don't you just get weary of being told that some kid in Minnesota needs a new liver? Kids didn't need new livers when I was growing up. We had good livers. What are they feeding these kids that suddenly they all need new livers? I think it's the gene pool. Nature used to eliminate the weak, imperfect kids before they were old enough to repro-. duce their flaws. Now we have a medical industry dedicated T to keeping people alive just long enough to pa.s.s along their bad genes to another generation. It's medical arrogance, and it works against nature's plan. I'm sick of hearing about a baby being kept alive on a resuscitator while doctors wait for (j a kidney to be flown in on a private jet contributed by some corporation seeking good publicity because they just killed six thousand people in Pakistan with a chemical spill. I'm tired of this s.h.i.t being presented in the context of real news. Prurient gossip about sick people is not real news. It's emotional pandering.

170.

GEORGE C A R L I N The real news is that there are millions upon millions of 6 sick babies and cripples and addicts and criminals and mis fits and diseased and mentally ill and hungry people who need help. Not to mention all the middle-cla.s.s normals who ???:.', swear things are just fine but spend three hours a day com- 4 muting, and whose dull, meaningless lives are being stolen from them by soulless corporations. But the media don't *, bother with all that. They like to simply cover their designated Victims of the Week, so they can see themselves as somehow n.o.ble. They highlight certain cases, making them appear exceptional. And when they do, they admit they are simply unable and unwilling to report the totality of the Great American Social Nightmare. DEATH IS AinQST TUH THESE DAYS Seems to me it wasn't long ago that when an OLD PERSON DIED the UNDERTAKER put him in a COFFIN, and you sent FLOWERS to the FUNERAL HOME where the MORTICIAN held the WAKE. Then, after the FUNERAL, they put him in a HEa.r.s.e and DROVE him to the CEMETERY, where they BURIED his BODY in a GRAVE.

Now when a SENIOR CITIZEN Pa.s.sES AWAY, he is placed in a BURIAL CONTAINER, and you send FLORAL TRIBUTES to the SLUMBER ROOM where the GRIEF THERAPIST supervises the VIEWING. After the MEMORIAL SERVICE, the FUNERAL COACH TRANSPORTS THE DEPARTED to the GARDEN OF REMEMBRANCE, where his EARTHLY REMAINS are INTERRED in their FINAL RESTING PLACE.

brain droppings R IF: on THE VCR You know where you never see a camcorder? At a funeral. Wouldn't that be fun? Especially if you didn't know any of the people there. Why not go to a stranger's funeral, and bring your camcorder? Have a little fun! Zoom in on the corpse's nose hairs. Then pull back, and pan over to the widow's tears. Get a tight shot of that. Do a montage of people wracked with grief. Then go home and put a laugh track on it! Smoke a joint and show it to your friends. That would be a lot of fun.

You can talk about capital punishment all you want, but I don't think you can leave everything up to the government. Citizens should be willing to take personal responsibility. Every now and then you've got to do the right thing, and go out and kill someone on your own. I believe the killing of human beings is just one more function of government that needs to be privatized.

I say this because I believe most people know at least one other person they wish were dead. One other person whose death would make their life a little easier. A s.e.xual rival; an abuser; a tormentor at school; a parent who's been draining the family nest egg by lingering too long on life support. It's a natural, human instinct. In fact, in the psychological literature it's technically referred to as, "Jesus, I wish that son of a b.i.t.c.h was dead!" Don't run from it. Society must find a way to accommodate this very understandable human instinct.

172.

C A R L I N GEORGE And so, I offer a plan: Legal Murder Once a Month 6 Under this plan, every thirty days each person in Ameri will be allowed to kill one other person without incurrin punishment. One murder per person, per month. But you can't kill just anybody. It's not random. Each month there 4 will be a different type of person it's OK to kill. For instance one month it would be all right to kill a business a.s.sociate k (For you blue-collar guys, that means someone at work.) That month, kill anybody at work-no punishment. But you must have a good reason; none of this weak s.h.i.t, "I caught him f.u.c.king my wife." It has to be a good reason. Like, "The guy is just a real a.s.shole." Another month we would have a day when it's OK to kill . 0 a relative. Actually, you might want two days for this, one for in-laws, and one for blood relatives. In fact, you might even need a week. Seven days, seven dead relatives. A festival! The Seven Dead Relatives Festival. Christmas week! There's a good time for family resentment. Lots of old, festering patho- logical flotsam bobbing to the surface like buoyant t.u.r.ds. Christmas! Peace on Earth and a nice stack of dead relatives under the tree. And forgive what may seem a tacky note, but this plan might also help simplify your Xmas shopping.

All right, what about spouses? You gotta have a day for killing spouses, although I don't think you'd want to do this one too often. You know how some guys are, they'd be goin' through ten or twelve old ladies a year. No, this one should be an annual event with a one-spouse limit. In fact, why not just have an annual spouse-hunting season? You must get a license, you must wear bright orange, and you brain droppings must be accompanied by three drunken friends. And please (y take note, those of you who aren't married and are merely living together will not be allowed to kill each other until you have taken your sacred vows. All right, we've covered relatives and spouses. Now, how ^ about that certain someone else? Someone who really deserves to die? The ex-spouse! The exes of both s.e.xes. The i ex-husband, usually referred to in court doc.u.ments as "the ,. * a.s.shole." And, of course, that other towering archetypal figure in divorce law, "the c.u.n.t"! i.; In fact, I think we ought to just combine spouses and ex- spouses and stretch this one into a full week as well. Do I smell another holiday festival here? Is this possibly Easter 4f week we're talkin' about? I think so! And I'm gonna give you a special deal. Not only will you be allowed to kill your ex-spouse, but you'll also get to kill their lawyer. It's a two-for-one, Easter Bunny, Resurrection special. One man rises from the dead, two people take his place. By the way, are you . beginning to sense that perhaps there's a place for the Disney corporation in all of this? Just a thought.

And while we're at it, why don't we honor Freud by having a day for killing parents? This is something that doesn't happen nearly often enough as far as I'm concerned. ^ Why should the Menendez Brothers have all the fun? Get into that living room, whip out the shotgun, and launch your parents into the great beyond so they can be with their loving G.o.d. Do the folks a favor. What kind of an ungrateful child are you? By the way, if you're wondering why parents aren't already covered in the Seven Dead Relatives CARL GEORGE.

Festival, it's because parents are special people, and they ^ deserve special treatment.

Here would be another handy event: Kill-a-Neighbor-Day. A perfect way to settle old scores and perhaps, at the same time, upgrade the neighborhood. And just to provide ^ you a little flexibility, for our purposes a neighbor will be considered anyone who lives in your zip code. j. You know, now that I think of it, it would probably make sense to simply have Wild-Card Day. One day a year when everyone can just go out and kill whomever the f.u.c.k they want. Many of us have long lists of specific, worthy targets who don't fall into any of the established categories. Retail clerks, landlords, teachers, salesmen, telephone solicitors; ^! the a.s.shole Connecticut people in the blue Volvo station wagon; the arrogant yuppie p.r.i.c.k at the laundromat who acted so superior about his natural fibers; and how about that snotty blonde b.i.t.c.h on the "Six O'Clock News"? The one who keeps braying, "Thank G.o.d, no one was hurt," every time someone so much as backs into a lamppost. " Now, let me quickly point out that my Legal Murder Once a Month plan has three strict rules: First, it isn't c.u.mulative. You can't save up all your murders for a year and then go waltzing into McDonald's and spoil everyone's Egg Mcm.u.f.fin. K You get one murder a month, that's it. Use it or lose it.

Rule number two: You can't hire someone to do the killing for you. You have to do it yourself. And if you're squeamish, take my word for it, you'll get over that. There's nothing to it. I, myself, have killed six people. All random, all undetected, no way to trace them to me. And, let me tell brain droppings you, there's nothin' like it. It's a great feeling. Yeah, I know, you're thinking. "Aw, he's a comedian. He's just sayin' that stuff." Good. That's exactly what I want you to think.

Rule number three: You can never kill your own offspring. It's just off-limits. OK? No killing your own children. Of course, if they really deserve it; if they're really bad news, they'll probably p.i.s.s someone else off, and that person will take care of the job for you. 4 And all you civic-minded dips.h.i.ts, I want you to know there's nothing in the const.i.tution 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 compet.i.tion. t Life is cheap, never forget it. Corporations make marketing decisions by weighing the cost of being sued for your death against the cost of making the product safer. Your life is a factor in cost-effectiveness. So when you talk about murder, don't confine your discussion to individuals.

Besides, there's nothing wrong with murder in the first place. Murder is a part of life. My society taught me that. And my species is really good at it. I belong to the only species in the history of the world that systematically tortures and mur-^ ders its own members for pleasure, profit, and convenience.

See how easily we figured all that out? How easy that was? People think life is real complicated. Actually, there's nothing to it. Once you leave out all the bulls.h.i.t they teach you in school, life gets really simple.

176.

GEORGE.

C A R L i N b r a d r o p p i n g s Fun TOES Since I hold no real national allegiances, when it comes to anned conflict around the world I tend to root for the side that will prWide int. me with the most entertainment. Saddam Hussein is a case in i , crush guy. Any head of state who says, "We will walk on your corpses and your skulls, and you will swim in your own blood," is my kinds You just don't hear that kind of s.h.i.t anymore. This man obviousL. */ great potential to provide me with amusing diversion.

In fact, all these Middle-East religious fanatics are br.i.m.m.i.n.g entertainment potential. On CNN I recently saw video of 200 Isi student-suicide bombers who were graduating from suicide-b()m^er school. They were singing what was apparently the school fight song. "Our blessings to you who fight at the gates of the enemy and J on heaven's door with his skulls in your hands." How can and Jews ever hope to compete with these folks who obviously enjOy their work so much? lET'S All Kill EACH OTHER ACCDRDinG TO THE RUIFS I don't understand the Geneva Convention and the whole i^ea of having rules for fighting a war. Why? Is it really more than just a ^ay of rea.s.suring ourselves we're all quite civilized, as we pour our heai^s and minds and fortunes into ma.s.s killing? It seems to me like hypo)Crjtical bulls.h.i.t. If the object is to win, wars should be fought with no, nOids barred; otherwise, why bother suiting up? As it is now, a wiinner is declared, and yet the issue has not been settled by all possible mejanS- Additionally, if the object is to kill the enemy, why treat their wounded? Treating their wounded requires resources taken from your own effort to achieve victory. Does this make sense if you're trying to win? Oh, yeah. Civilized.

My doubts about having rules for combat likewise extend to street fighting. I've heard guys whine about someone throwing a "sucker punch." Are they kidding? A guy wants to reduce your a.s.s to a small b.l.o.o.d.y pile, and you're going to warn him before hitting him? Get f.u.c.king lucid! And lose all that dopey s.h.i.t about fair play. It's out of place if the object is to win. (Is it?) Also, as far as kicking someone when he's down is concerned, what is the problem here? Again, the object is to win, yes? Well, if he gets up, you might lose; therefore he must not get up. He needs to be kicked. You said you wanted to win. Or are you people just f.u.c.king around? I suspect that might be the case. Well, stop f.u.c.king around and make up your mind. You're telling me a man will f.u.c.k another man's wife, drive him out of business, cut him off and nearly kill him in traffic, but he shouldn't sneak punch, or kick him when he's down? I don't get it.

Another thing I don't understand is the objection to so-called dirty play in sports such as football. These are big, tough guys who are desperate to prove how manly they are; that they're not soft. That's why they play these games in the first place. Well, why not let them play "dirty" and let's find out how tough they really are? It's been shown that small, dedicated groups of men can easily imd ways of policing and disciplining those among them who cross the line. It's called vigilantism, and it's very efficient. Please don't tell a bunch of six-foot-six, three hundred-pounders in helmets and pads can't spear and punch and put their thumbs in each other's eyes.

178.

C A R L I N GEORGE You'll miss all the fun. And you'll be keeping them from pursuing their calling at its highest level.

I also don't understand terrorists who call the police to warn them about a bomb. Do I need even explain my disihay at this one?

You know, folks, if this old world had cmy imagination, wars would be fought without codes and conventions, alley fighting would be standard, and the only rules in sports woulii govern the uniforms Then we'd have some real fun.

But I fear that doesn't suit you, and so I return to the notion that produced these thoughts in the first place: Yc>u people shouldn't be fighting at all. unKnown SOLDIER I recently visited an interesting site in Washington, D.C. You've heard of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier? This is the Tomb of the WeZ/-Known Soldier. No one knows about it. Is;n't that odd? Everyone knows about the Unknown Soldier, but no one knows about the Well-Known Soldier. Makes you think, doesn't it? Maybe not.

They're also planning the Tomb of the W&H-Known-but-Widely-Disliked Soldier. And then they're gonna build the Tomb of the Well-Liked-but-Poorly-Understood Soldier.

One other interesting fact before we leave this subject. I a.s.sume you know that Britain, France, and Canada all have Uinknown Soldiers of their own. Well, oddly enough, all three of those soldiers knew each other. Kinda makes the hair on the back of your nec;k stand up, doesn't it? Maybe not.

brain droppings ir oniY WE WERE HUHAH This species is a dear, hateful, sweet, barbaric, tender, vile, intelligent, confused, virtuous, evil, thoughtful, perverted, generous, greedy species. In short, great entertainment.

As I said before, humans are the only species that systematically tortures and murders its own for pleasure and personal gain. In fact, we are the only species that systematically tortures and murders its own, period.

We are serial killers. All our poems and symphonies and oils on canvas will never change that. Man's n.o.ble aspect is the aberration.

Those who argue that art and philosophy are proof of human worth neglect to mention that, in the scheme we have devised, artists and philosophers are completely powerless and largely without prestige. Art, music, and philosophy are merely poignant examples of what we might have been had not the priests and traders gotten hold of us.

Most animals, when fighting one of their own, will show aggressive behavior, but very little hostility or intention to harm. And when the outcome of the struggle is inevitable, the losing animal will signal its defeat by exposing its most vulnerable part to the victor, affording it the opportunity to finish the kill. The victor then walks away without inflicting further harm. These are the creatures we feel superior to.

The rate of U.S. Marine suicides has been rising in recent years. The biggest jump came at a time when the Marine Corps was being reduced in size, and so, many of these men were barred from reen-listing. I guess they realized that the odds against death had suddenly improved, and they might actually have to face life. So they killed themselves. Strange, huh? I like that sort of thing. It's entertaining.

GEORGE.

C A R L I N.