If the 'Seven Words You Can't Say On Television' offend you,


Show me the Sinful Seven; plus another 2,436 Filthy Words and Phrases

It seems kind of silly and juvenile now, but George really went through a lot (and got a lot of publicity) just to recite this list to us on stage. Of course, when HBO came along, he finally got the opportunity to say them on TV, and an era ended. Nowadays, if you pay attention, you can hear most of them in song lyrics on the radio. Thanks a lot, George. Oh well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Mr. Carlin does a lot of material on words. How some words just never get used together, like; "Please saw my legs off", or, "Hand me that piano". More often though, he points out how idiotic we've become with the politically correct verbal gymnastics we perform these days. How we've gone from 'shell-shocked' to 'battle fatigue' to post-traumatic-stress-syndrome'. When it sounds too real, blur it with as many syllables as possible. Personnel departments become Human Resources departments. Blind people become optically challenged. It would seem that our ultimate goal is to be able to hear someone speak endlessly without ever having to think about anything at all.

Tonight's forecast....dark. Followed by widely scattered light in the morning...

I'm aware that some stare at my hair
In fact to be fair, some really despair of my hair
But I don't care
Beause 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 a chocolate eclaire
And where is the hair on a pear?
Nowhere, mon frere
Now that I've shared this affair of the hair, I think I'll repair to my lair and use Nair
Do you care?

O beautiful for smoggy skies
Insecticided grain
For strip-mined mountains' majesty
above the asphalt plain
America, America
Man sheds his waste on thee
And hides the pines
with billboard signs
from sea to oily sea

Ed. Note: I used to have an entry in here that loosely paraphrased a GC diatribe I'd only heard once, but considered exceptionally profound, even for George. Thanks to the miracle of the web, somebody read my version of it and told me what a moron I was. Then, months later, The Schlagerman read it and recognized it as a cry for help.

The no longer loosely paraphrased version is as follows. Infinite thanks to Schlager for A) refusing to sleep. B) transcribing this. C) sending it to little old me.

(From "The Planet is Fine"; copied WITHOUT the authority or written permission of George Carlin or Major League Baseball.)


We're so self-important. So self-important. Everybody's going to save something now. "Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save those snails." And the greatest arrogance of all: save the planet. What? Are these fucking people kidding me? Save the planet, we don't even know how to take care of ourselves yet. We haven't learned how to care for one another, we're gonna save the fucking planet? I'm getting tired of that shit. Tired of that shit. I'm tired of fucking Earth Day, I'm tired of these self-righteous environmentalists, these white, bourgeois liberals who think the only thing wrong with this country is there aren't enough bicycle paths. People trying to make the world save for their Volvos. Besides, environmentalists don't give a shit about the planet. They don't care about the planet. Not in the abstract they don't. Not in the abstract they don't. You know what they're interested in? A clean place to live. Their own habitat. They're worried that some day in the future, they might be personally inconvenienced. Narrow, unenlightened self-interest doesn't impress me.

Besides, there is nothing wrong with the planet. Nothing wrong with the planet. The planet is fine. The PEOPLE are fucked. Difference. Difference. The planet is fine. Compared to the people, the planet is doing great. Been here four and a half billion years. Did you ever think about the arithmetic? The planet has been here four and a half billion years. We've been here, what, a hundred thousand? Maybe two hundred thousand? And we've only been engaged in heavy industry for a little over two hundred years. Two hundred years versus four and a half billion. And we have the CONCEIT to think that somehow we're a threat? That somehow we're gonna put in jeopardy this beautiful little blue-green ball that's just a-floatin' around the sun?

The planet has been through a lot worse than us. Been through all kinds of things worse than us. Been through earthquakes, volcanoes, plate tectonics, continental drift, solar flares, sun spots, magnetic storms, the magnetic reversal of the poles...hundreds of thousands of years of bombardment by comets and asteroids and meteors, worlwide floods, tidal waves, worldwide fires, erosion, cosmic rays, recurring ice ages...And we think some plastic bags, and some aluminum cans are going to make a difference? The planet...the planet...the planet isn't going anywhere. WE ARE!

We're going away. Pack your shit, folks. We're going away. And we won't leave much of a trace, either. Thank God for that. Maybe a little styrofoam. Maybe. A little styrofoam. The planet'll be here and we'll be long gone. Just another failed mutation. Just another closed-end biological mistake. An evolutionary cul-de-sac. The planet'll shake us off like a bad case of fleas. A surface nuisance.

You wanna know how the planet's doing? Ask those people at Pompeii, who are frozen into position from volcanic ash, how the planet's doing. You wanna know if the planet's all right, ask those people in Mexico City or Armenia or a hundred other places buried under thousands of tons of earthquake rubble, if they feel like a threat to the planet this week. Or how about those people in Kilowaia, Hawaii, who built their homes right next to an active volcano, and then wonder why they have lava in the living room.

The planet will be here for a long, long, LONG time after we're gone, and it will heal itself, it will cleanse itself, 'cause that's what it does. It's a self-correcting system. The air and the water will recover, the earth will be renewed, and if it's true that plastic is not degradable, well, the planet will simply incorporate plastic into a new pardigm: the earth plus plastic. The earth doesn't share our prejudice towards plastic. Plastic came out of the earth. The earth probably sees plastic as just another one of its children. Could be the only reason the earth allowed us to be spawned from it in the first place. It wanted plastic for itself. Didn't know how to make it. Needed us. Could be the answer to our age-old egocentric philosophical question, "Why are we here?" Plastic...asshole.

So, the plastic is here, our job is done, we can be phased out now. And I think that's begun. Don't you think that's already started? I think, to be fair, the planet sees us as a mild threat. Something to be dealt with. And the planet can defend itself in an organized, collective way, the way a beehive or an ant colony can. A collective defense mechanism. The planet will think of something. What would you do if you were the planet? How would you defend yourself against this troublesome, pesky species? Let's see... Viruses. Viruses might be good. They seem vulnerable to viruses. And, uh...viruses are tricky, always mutating and forming new strains whenever a vaccine is developed. Perhaps, this first virus could be one that compromises the immune system of these creatures. Perhaps a human immunodeficiency virus, making them vulnerable to all sorts of other diseases and infections that might come along. And maybe it could be spread sexually, making them a little reluctant to engage in the act of reproduction.

Well, that's a poetic note. And it's a start. And I can dream, can't I? See I don't worry about the little things: bees, trees, whales, snails. I think we're part of a greater wisdom than we will ever understand. A higher order. Call it what you want. Know what I call it? The Big Electron. The Big Electron...whoooa. Whoooa. Whoooa. It doesn't punish, it doesn't reward, it doesn't judge at all. It just is. And so are we. For a little while.

And for anyone who feels that they need a little space...GO THE FUCK OUTSIDE!

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