Goodbye, George Carlin

I don't do this; I don't do eulogies.

For the most part, they are almost never honest and I loathe the concept that people should only be remembered for "the good things" they did. For most people, this is fine and good, but put into perspective, few people ever actually do anything all that good and to dismiss all the other things they did would leave you with an empty eulogy - that's where the bullshit begins. The reverse is just as bad: all we think of when we discuss Hitler or Mussolini is all the Evil things they did - surely they saved a dog or two along the way, maybe even kissed a baby.

The truth of the matter is that there are almost no good or bad people. Hitler and Mussolini are a couple who prove this rule.

But for the past two nights, I have watched the "Special George Carlin Marathon(s)" on the HBO networks and really wanted to talk about his passing with someone. Lucky you.

I never really considered myself a George Carlin "fan." In reality, I am a fan of few; Slayer, Frank Miller, Jello Biafra, Jackie Chan, Fiona Apple, Martin Scorsese... these are people whose work I actively seek-out, and though there are a few more, none spring to mind, so it's safe to say that I enjoy a lot of entertainers and entertainment, but am a real fan of few and little. And while I appreciated Carlin's material, he was one of those entertainers whose work was shoved down my throat by my peers and that turned me off to him early-on.

I vividly remember being stoned in a friend's bedroom, listening to one of Carlin's albums. Specifically, it was a very stupid routine called Free a Fart (or the like). Even at the tender age of 12-13, I could tell this was a one-off, throw-away idea I would later learn The Business calls "filler." But my friend thought it the height of hilarity and simply could not understand why I didn't agree. Just so you know, I went on to go into Entertainment and the Creative Arts; the friend in this story enlisted in the services and (last I heard) works as a bouncer at a titty-club. (I was right.)

And, of course, the ubiquitous Seven Words You Can't Say on TV - great routine, funny and edgy, etc., etc. - but even today, it serves as the foundation of what most everyone knows of Carlin's material and is overly-touted by... everyone.

But as I got older, I caught more and more of Carlin's material and I really loved his philosophy. The anger, outrage, frustration, and common-sense was (to me) often more clever than comedic, but it was real; this was a real observational comedian who had actual things to say - real observations to make - as opposed to pondering simple, everyday minutiae. Of course, true to his crass and observational roots, his act ran the gamut, with plenty of time given to farts, belches, sex, TV, commercials, and other "everyday minutiae."

Then, when I was working at one of the bars, we were drinking with the regulars one night when I mentioned all of this and one of the guys gave me a copy of one of Carlin's books, which I eagerly devoured. Much like some of his better acts, it was humorous but philosophically so.

Somewhere amidst all of this, I became a fan.

So, in watching two full nights of stand-up (to be followed tomorrow by a tribute from SNL - which I sincerely hope is more than they did for Richard Pryor), I was reminded of just how much he is going to be missed and how truly important he was.

Even with his numerous TV and film appearances (including a mediocre FOX sit-com that deserved to die), Carlin's ideology never wavered, his image never became "mainstream" to the point of commercialism, and he remained cutting-edge and relevant literally to the very end.

© C Harris Lynn, 2008