Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits

So George Carlin died.  I’m sure this isn’t news at this point,  and it wasn’t entirely unexpected:  He was 71 and he had chronic heart problems.  Still, the news hit me like a load of bricks.  Bricks that caused bruises that I spent all day trying not to notice.

You see, during my freshman year of college, I was lucky enough to see Carlin when he came to my school.  He was awesome.  Just a riot.  But he also got me thinking, cause George was a crazy misanthrope.

“Scratch any cynic, and you’ll find a disappointed idealist” He spoke a lot about humanity’s demise, “circling the drain” he called it.  Spiraling faster and faster, disappearing forever when it finally went in.  He said he was content to sit back and enjoy the show, watching humanity destroy itself.

This bothered me.  A lot.  I’m not a cynic, I always want the best for people, and the future of humanity in general.  But watching Carlin made me realize, there’s no guarantee of a brighter future.  And that’s ok.  It’s ok if we fail and destroy ourselves, cause at least we get to enjoy being here as it all goes down.  There’s a weird kind of comfort in that.

There’s a million billion things more that I want to say, that I want to analyze about Carlin.  But I don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind right now.  Just enjoy this:

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One Response

  1. What the fuck. I think i just saw myself as an old man. George Carlin had his head on STRAIGHT, yo.

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