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I posted a couple of bits by comic George Carlin last week. He was very, very funny. He took ill yesterday and died. A couple of obits:
One of America’s most popular and often controversial comedians, George Carlin, died in Santa Monica, California. He was 71.
How George Carlin Changed Comedy
When the culture began to change in the late 1960s — when the old one-liner comics on the Ed Sullivan Show were looking pretty tired and irrelevant to a younger generation experimenting with drugs and protesting the War in Vietnam — George Carlin was the most important stand-up comedian in America. By the time he died Sunday night (of heart failure at age 71), the transformation he helped bring about in stand-up comedy had become so ingrained that it’s hard to think of Carlin as one of America’s most radical and courageous artists. But he was.
Say It Ain’t So: George Carlin Dies
How many TV news orgs will say the seven words?
George Carlin is dead, but his words live on. Especially his big seven from his monologue “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television” on the 1972 album Class Clown:
Shit
Piss
Fuck
Cunt
Cocksucker
Motherfucker
Tits
From the voice, a transcript of the routine:
I love words. I thank you for hearing my words. I want to tell you something about words that I uh, I think is important. I love..as I say, they’re my work, they’re my play, they’re my passion. Words are all we have really.
We have thoughts, but thoughts are fluid. You know, [humming]. And, then we assign a word to a thought, [clicks tongue]. And we’re stuck with that word for that thought. So be careful with words. I like to think, yeah, the same words that hurt can heal. It’s a matter of how you pick them.
There are some people that aren’t into all the words. There are some people who would have you not use certain words. Yeah, there are 400,000 words in the English language, and there are seven of them that you can’t say on television. What a ratio that is. 399,993 to seven. They must really be bad. They’d have to be outrageous, to be separated from a group that large. All of you over here, you seven. Bad words. That’s what they told us they were, remember? ‘That’s a bad word.’ ‘Awwww.’ There are no bad words. Bad thoughts. Bad Intentions.
And words, you know the seven don’t you? Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, huh? Those are the heavy seven. Those are the ones that will infect your soul, curve your spine and keep the country from winning the war.
Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, wow. Tits doesn’t even belong on the list, you know. It’s such a friendly sounding word. It sounds like a nickname. ‘Hey, Tits, come here. Tits, meet Toots, Toots, Tits, Tits, Toots.’ It sounds like a snack doesn’t it? Yes, I know, it is, right. But I don’t mean the sexist snack, I mean, New Nabisco Tits. The new Cheese Tits, and Corn Tits and Pizza Tits, Sesame Tits Onion Tits, Tater Tits, Yeah. Betcha can’t eat just one. That’s true I usually switch off . But I mean that word does not belong on the list.
Actually, none of the words belong on the list, but you can understand why some of them are there. I am not completely insensitive to people’s feelings. You know, I can dig why some of those words got on the list…like cocksucker and motherfucker. Those are…those are heavy-weight words. There’s a lot going on there, man. Besides the literal translation and the emotional feeling. They’re just busy words. There’s a lot of syllables to contend with. And those K’s. Those are aggressive sounds, they jump out at you. CocksuckerMotherfuckerCocksucker. It’s like an assault, on you. So I can dig that.
And we mentioned shit earlier, of course. Two of the other 4-letter Anglo-Saxon words are Piss and Cunt, which go together of course. But forget about that. A little accidental humor there. Piss and Cunt. The reason Piss and Cunt are on the list is that a long time ago certain ladies said ‘Those are the two I am not going to say. I don’t mind Fuck and Shit, but P and C are out. P and C are out.’ Which led to such stupid sentences as ‘OK, you fuckers, I am going to tinkle now.’
And of course the word Fuck. The word Fuck, I don’t really…well, this is some more accidental humor, but I don’t really want to get into that now. Because I think it takes too long. But I do mean that. I mean, I think the word fuck is an important word. It’s the beginning of life, and, yet it’s a word we use to hurt one other, quite often. And uh, people much wiser than I have said, I’d rather have my son watch a film with two people making love than two people trying to kill one other. And I of course agree. I wish I know who said it first, and I agree with that. But I would like to take it a step further. I would like to substitute the word fuck, for the word kill in all those movie cliches we grew up with. ‘Okay Sheriff, we’re gonna fuck ya now. But we’re gonna fuck ya slow.’ So maybe next year I’ll have a whole fuckin’ rap on that word. I hope so.
Uh, there are two-way words, but those are the seven you can never say on television. Under any circumstances you just can not say them ever, ever ever, not even clinically. You can not weave them in the panel with Doc and Ed and Johnny, I mean it’s just impossible, forget those seven, they’re out.
But, there are some two-way words. There are double-meaning words. Remember the ones your giggled at in sixth grade? ‘And the cock crowed three times.”Hey, the cock the cock crowed three times. It’s in the bible.’ There are some Two-way words, like it’s okay for Curt Gowdy [mis-spelled in original transcription. -ed.] to say ‘Roberto Clemente has two balls on him.’ But he can’t say, ‘I think he hurt his balls on that play Tony, don’t you? He’s holding them. He must have hurt them by God.’ And the other two-way word that goes with that one is prick. It’s okay if it happens to your finger. Yes, you can prick your finger, but don’t finger your prick. No, no.
Capt. Kirk for President: Bring it on!
“Country I Love”
I’m Barack Obama. America is a country of strong families and strong values.
My life’s been blessed by both. I was raised by a single mom and my grandparents.
We didn’t have much money, but they taught me values straight from the Kansas heartland where they grew up.
Accountability and self-reliance. Love of country. Working hard without making excuses. Treating your neighbor as you’d like to be treated.
It’s what guided me as I worked my way up — taking jobs and loans to make it through college. It’s what led me to pass up Wall Street jobs and go to Chicago instead, helping neighborhoods devastated when steel plants closed.
That’s why I passed laws moving people from welfare to work, cut taxes for working families and extended health care for wounded troops who’d been neglected.
I approved this message because I’ll never forget those values, and if I have the honor of taking the oath of office as president, it will be with a deep and abiding faith in the country I love.”
WASHINGTON (AP) — There’s new information about the hunt for a running mate for Barack Obama.
A member of the Congressional Black Caucus who’s met with Obama’s vice-presidential screening team says she offered the names of former senators John Edwards and Sam Nunn — and was told they’re on the list. Congresswoman Carolyn Cheeks Kilpatrick of Michigan says when she mentioned that Al Gore is her favorite, the two members of Obama’s team smiled.
Kilpatrick wouldn’t say which names Obama’s team brought up.
Lawmakers who’ve been briefed say there are about 20 names on the prospective vice-presidential list, which is said to include current elected officials, former elected officials, and retired military generals.
Compiled by Mary Grace Lucas
CNN Washington Bureau
AP: Williams to do `Meet the Press’ Sunday
Top NBC anchorman Brian Williams will host the next “Meet the Press” but the network hasn’t chosen who will permanently replace Tim Russert, an NBC News spokeswoman said Thursday.
Washington Post: McCain Raises Money the Hard Way
John McCain’s campaign treated the news of Barack Obama abandoning the public financing system with the expected disdain, calling it evidence that Obama is “just another typical politician who will do and say whatever is most expedient for Barack Obama.”
Chicago Tribune: Without public funding, sky’s the limit for Obama
‘Raising a half-billion dollars is a very realistic figure for him,’ strategist says.
NY Times: For Bush, a New Town, a New Disaster, but Always the Memory of New Orleans
Try as he might, President Bush cannot escape the haunting memory of Hurricane Katrina. Mr. Bush toured flood-stricken areas here on Thursday, the latest in a string of disaster-zone visits he has made in his role as comforter in chief.
CNN: House approves war funding plan
Military operations in Iraq and Afghanistan would be funded into early 2009 under a compromise plan approved Thursday by the U.S. House.
Alright. Look that word up today and it’ll have a picture of a two-headed monster named Tannin and Cioffi.
Don’t get me wrong: Ralph Cioffi and Matthew Tannin are probably guilty of a lot more than they’re being charged with here. But, are they the biggest crooks on Wall Street? Can anybody tell me what these two Bear Stearns executives did that thousands of Wall Streeters don’t do every single day and run merrily all the way the bank?
This arrest, with the requisite perp walk reminiscent of the stunts that old demagogue Rudy Giuliani used to pull, is simply to draw attention away from the crooked deal that U.S. Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson struck to get Bear Stearns into the hands of JP Morgan Chase.
The American people were left holding the bag in that deal.
The fact is we are surrounded by these thieves, including Mr. Paulson, formerly of Goldman Sachs, in government who preside over the wholesale looting of the American tTreasury on behalf of the wealthy at the expense of poor and working class Americans.
People worry whether Barack Obama is an American and vote for people who then turn around and devastate the American way of life through crooked deals like the one Paulson cooked up here.
Who will tell the people? Will we hear? Better yet, what are we going to do about it?
Snoop with Willie Nelson. This is way too cool!
Alright, so I can’t say that I’m the most dedicated country music aficionado out there but this is, simply, the best and most effective country music song I’ve ever heard.
Snoop Dogg’s ‘My Medicine’ lyrics
Yeah
I Like to dedicate this record here
to my main man Johny Cash
A real American gangster
I got my nephew Whitey Ford on the guitar
Young Treb on the drums
Grand ol’ Opry
Here we come
OhJack me nimble, jack me quick
jack of the spoon on the candlestick
don’t stay pimpin’ on the one trick only
yeah she kinda skinny but she gets my moneyRef:
Get my money
buy my medicine
buy my medicine
buy my medicine x2Yeah
You know I’ve got to have that medicine
That prescription medicine baby
You know purple orange greenJack starts hanging round with the fiends
Got strung out sold and count of beans
Told young wifey he got love your honey
But you gotta hit the streets
go and get my moneyRef x2
Yeah
The more dedicated the more medicated
Can you feel me?Girl my love gonna last
just as long as my highAnd I’m high
All day, everydayYou can trust every word
I’m gonna say will be a lieHaha
Yeah, I lie sometimesWhat’s the use of the truth
if you can’t get a lie sometimes baby
Now, dig thisJack starts a track up and down a hill,
gotta walk and think “an ace what he told to Jill”
Come rain, come shine, come snow of a sunny
Get the f**k out girl and get my moneyRef x2
Yeah
They say you can’t buy me love
but you damn sure can buy me budGirl my love gonna last
just as long as my highOh, I’m so high right now
how about you?You can trust every word
I’m gonna tell you is a lieLiar, liar pants on fire
Girl, I love you
I love you though
That any baseball hall-of-fame that does not have Pete Rose in it is not worthy of the name . . .
That golf is not a sport (a game, maybe) and Tiger Woods, whatever he is, is not an athlete . . . but we talked all about that yesterday, exhausted the topic, actually.
The subject of golf does deserve at least one other mention, which is the inordinate amount space devoted to this useless pursuit.
I shared with some of you yesterday some of what George Carlin had to say about this so-called “sport.”
Here is more Carlin peroration on the topic, except, this time, he’s political:
“I’ve got just the place for low-cost housing. I have solved this problem.
I know where we can build housing for the homeless. Golf courses. Perfect!
Golf courses. Just what we need.
Plenty of good land, in nice neighborhoods, land that is currently being wasted on a meaningless, mindless activity engaged in primarily by white well-to-do male businessmen who use the game to get together to make deals to carve this country up a little finer among themselves.
I am getting tired, really getting tired of these golfing co–suckers in their green pants and their yellow pants and their orange pants and their precious little hats and their cute little golf carts.
It is time to reclaim the golf courses from the wealthy and turn them over to the homeless.
Golf is an arrogant, elitist game and it takes up entirely too much room in this country.
Too much room in this country.
It is an arrogant game on its design alone. Just the design of the game speaks of arrogance.
Think of how big a golf course is. The ball is that fu–ing big! What do these pinheaded pricks need with all that land?
There are over 17,000 golf courses in America. They average over 150 acres a piece.
That’s 3 million plus acres, 4,820 square miles.
You could build two Rhode Islands and a Delaware for the homeless on the land currently being wasted on this meaningless, mindless, arrogant, elitist, and racist, that’s another thing, the only blacks you’ll find in country clubs are carrying trays, and a boring game.
A boring game.
For boring people.
Ever watch golf on TV? It’s like watching flies fu- -.
And a mindless game. Mindless.
Think of the intellect it must take to draw pleasure from this activity.
Hitting a ball with a crooked stick and then, walking after it.
And then, hitting it again.
I say pick it up asshole you’re lucky you found the fu–ing thing.
Put in your pocket and go the fu– home. You’re a winner. You’re a winner. You found it.
No, never happen. No chance of that happening.
Dorko in the plaid knickers is going to hit again and walk some more.
Let these rich co–suckers play miniature golf!
Let them fu– with a windmill for an hour and half or so. See if there’s any real skill among these people.
Now, I know there are some people who play golf who don’t consider themselves rich.
I say F— ‘em!
And shame on them for engaging in an arrogant, elitist pastime.
–George Carlin, “Jammin’ In New York,” April 24 and 25, 1992 at the Paramount Theater in New York City (later a HBO special).
Robin Williams, too!
Then, finally, we come to golf.
Ever watch golf on TV? It’s like watching flies f–k.
I get more excited picking out socks.
Golf could be fun if you could play alone but it’s these genetic defectives that you have to hang around with that make it such a boring pastime.
Think of the brain that it takes to play golf. Hitting a ball with a crooked stick, then walking after it. And then, hitting it again.
I say pick it up ass—e. You’re lucky you found it. Put it in your pocket and go the f–k home, will ya.
I have to say that I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach when Willie Randolph signed on to be manager of the Mets. Willie had worked so hard and strove so many years for an opportunity to manage, enduring endless interviews. When the opportunity came it was in New York and with the Mets, the team that seems to permanently have the word “hapless” appended to its name.
The reason for my trepidation for him is this: Bad things happen to people who go to the Mets, especially good people.
Do you know that the moment he was fired, he was no longer a member of the team and was, therefore, responsible for paying his hotel bill and for his flight back to New York? Not that Willie Randolph could not afford it, but they fired him in the middle of the night at the other end of the world. By e-mail at 3:17 a.m.
They could have fired him before the team left on this West Coast trip. New York’s voraciously racist sports press had been screaming for his head for months and had been on a death watch for weeks. Willie’s fate was especially acute by the week’s end.
So, why didn’t they fire him after the home series against Texas? Why let the man get on a plane, then fire him in the middle of the night? He could have cleaned out his locker and gone home.
The Mets is a low-class, bush league organization and the Wilpons are cowards.
Willie is class, a winner who was saddled with a team badly assembled by a master cover-your-own-ass general manager, Omar Minaya. They hired Willie, then Minaya cobbled together an over-the-hill gang of Latin players and a spoiled brat of a shortstop, Jose Reyes. Minaya consistently overrates and overvalues the team.
The reason they had “the collapse” last year was because they did not have the players. But they mistakenly thought that they had a good team and that they could win now. So they mortgaged the future of team to get Santana.
The problem for Willie now is that his Mets sojourn may have ruined his managerial career. He may never get another managerial post.
Let me put it this way: It’s not like he was being tackled as he hit the little white ball into the hole in the ground.
So, please, spare me the fist pumps and all the other histrionics. He may very well be a phenomenal, even a freak of a golfer. I’ll grant him that. He’s proven over these many years, since emerging as a prodigy, then dominating his field and his era so thoroughly, that he’s one of a kind. What exactly, I cannot say.
On top of that, he’s a very graceful and gentlemanly human being (at least appears to be; he probably kicks cats and dogs when no one is there to notice it).
What Mr. Woods is not is an athlete. And no amount of fist pumps and rebel yells will change that. I’m sorry to say this but a ping pong player is more of an athlete than Tiger will ever be.
Even rhythmic gymnastics and whatever abomination they conjure up at the Winter Olympics require more athletic ability than anything these layabouts do on a golf course. I also hate all the chemicals they put into the ground to get the grass to look so green. And I hate all that wasted space.
Having said all that, let me give Tiger Woods credit for one thing: the wardrobe. He has single-handedly changed the hideous style of dressing by men on the golf course. For that, and that alone, one can be thankful!