George Carlin: Life Is Worth Losing (2005 TV Special)
George Carlin: I'm a modern man. A man for the millenium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multicultural postmodern deconstructionist, politically, anatomically, and ecologically incorrect. I've been uplinked and downloaded, I've been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside of downsizing I know the downside of upgrading. I'm a high tech lo-life. A cutting-edge, state-of-the-art, bi-coastal multitasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond. I'm new wave but I'm old school and my inner child is outward bound. I'm a hotwired, heatseaking, warmhearted cool customer, voice activated and biodegradable. I interface with my database and my database is in cyberspace, so I'm interactive, I'm hyperactive, and from time to time I'm radioactive. Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet, and pushing the envelope. I'm on point, on task, on message, and off drugs. I got no need for coke and speed. I got no urge to binge and purge. I'm in the moment, on the edge, over the top, but under the radar. A high concept, low profile, medium range ballistic missionary. A streetwise smartbomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties; I tell power lies; I take power naps; I take victory laps. I'm a totally ongoing bigfoot, slamdunk rain maker with a pro-active outreach, a raging workaholic, a working rage-a-holic, out of rehab and in denial. I got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, and a personal angenda. You can't shut me up, you can't dumb me down, cause I'm tireless and I'm wireless. I'm an alpha-male on beta-blockers. I'm a non-believer and an overacheiver, laid-back but fashion foward, up front, down home, low rent, high mantinence, supersize, long lasting, high definition, fast acting, oven ready, and built to last. I'm a hands on, footloose, knee-jerk headcase, prematurely postraumatic, and I have a love child who sends me hate mail. But I'm feeling; I'm caring; I'm healing; I'm sharing; a supportive, bonding, nurturing, primary caregiver. My output is down, but my income is up. I take a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash flow. I read junk-mail; I eat junk food; I buy junk bonds; I watch trash sports. I'm gender specific, captial intensive, user friendly, and lactose intolerant. I like rough sex; I like tough love; I use the f-word in my email, and the software on my hard drive is hardcore; no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a minimall; I bought a minivan at a megastore. I eat fast food in the slow lane. I'm toll free, bite size, ready to wear, and I come in all sizes; a fully equipped, factory authorized, hospital tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle. I've been pre-washed, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double wrapped, vacuum packed, and I have an unlimited broadband capacity. I'm a rude dude but I'm the real deal, lean and mean, cocked, locked, and ready to rock; rough, tough, and hard to bluff. I take it slow; I go with the flow; I ride with the tide; I got glide in my stride; driving and moving, sailing and spinning, jiving and grooving, wailing and winning. I don't snooze, so I don't lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hardy and lunchtime is crunchtime. I'm hanging in, there ain't no doubt, and I'm hanging tough, over and out.
George Carlin: Human beings will do anything, anything. I am convinced. That's why when all those beheadings started in Iraq, it didn't bother me. A lot of people here were horrified, "Whaaaa, beheadings! Beheadings!" What, are you fucking surprised? Just one more form of extreme human behavior. Besides, who cares about some mercenary civilian contractor from Oklahoma who gets his head cut off? Fuck 'em. Hey Jack, you don't want to get your head cut off? Stay the fuck in Oklahoma. They ain't cuttin' off heads in Oklahoma, far as I know. But I do know this: you strap on a gun and go struttin' around some other man's country, you'd better be ready for some action, Jack. People are touchy about that sort of thing. And let me ask you this... this is a moral question, not rhetorical, I'm looking for the answer: what is the moral difference between cuttin' off one guy's head, or two, or three, or five, or ten - and dropping a big bomb on a hospital and killing a whole bunch of sick kids? Has anybody in authority given you an explanation of the difference? Now, in case you're wondering why I have a certain interest, or fascination let's call it, with torture and beheadings and all of those things I have mentioned, is because each of these items reminds me in life over and over again what beasts we human beings really are. When you get right down to it, human beings are nothing more than ordinary jungle beasts. Savages. No different from the Cro Magnon people who lived twenty five thousand years ago. No different. Our DNA hasn't changed substantially in a hundred thousand years. We're still operating out of the lower brain. The reptilian brain. Fight or flight. Kill or be killed. We like to think we've evolved and advanced because we can build a computer, fly an airplane, travel underwater, we can write a sonnet, paint a painting, compose an opera. But you know something? We're barely out of the jungle on this planet. Barely out of the fucking jungle. What we are, is semi-civilized beasts, with baseball caps and automatic weapons.
George Carlin: I always hope that no matter how small the original problem is, it's gonna grow into bigger and bigger proportions that gets completely out of control, and I'll give you a concrete example. Let's say a water main breaks in downtown Los Angeles and it floods an electrical substation, knocking out all the traffic lights and tying up the entire city, and emergency vehicles can't get through. And at the same time, one of those month-long global warming heat waves comes along, but there's no air conditioning, there's no water for sanitation, so cholera, smallpox, and dysentery break out, and thousands of people start dying in the streets. But before they die, parasites eat their brains, and they go completely fucking crazy and they storm the hospital, but the hospital can't handle all the casualties, so these people rape all the nurses and set the hospital on fire. And the flames drive them even crazier, so they start stabbing social workers and garbagemen. And a big wind comes along and the entire city goes up in flames. And the people who are still healthy, they get mad at the sick people and they start crucifying them; nailing them to crosses, trying on their underwear, shit like that. Then everybody smokes crack and PCP and they march on City Hall, where they burn the mayor at the stake, strangle his wife, and take turns sodomizing the statue of Larry Flynt. And at this point... at this point, it looks like pretty soon, things are gonna start to get out of control.
George Carlin: So everybody panics and tries to leave the city at the same time. And they trample each other to death in the streets by the thousands, and wild dogs eat their corpses. And the wild dogs chase the rest of the people down the highway and one by one, the dogs pick off the old fucks and the slow people 'cause they're in the fast lane where they don't belong. Get the fuck out of the fast lane if you're an old fuck, if you're a slow fuck. Get over on the right. Get over on the right.
[laughter and applause]
George Carlin: And then... and the lucky ones... the lucky people who manage to make it all the way outside of town, they discover when they get there that big sparks from the city have lit the suburbs on fire. And the suburbs burn uncontrollably, and thousands of identical homes have identical fires with identical smoke, killing all the identical soccer moms and their identical kids named Jason and Jennifer. And now... now the fire spreads to the farmlands, and the farmlands burn intensely at 425 degrees, creating millions of baked potatoes. And... as the farmlands burn... as the farmlands burn, thousands of barns and farmhouses begin to explode from all the hidden methamphetamine labs. And the meth chemicals run downhill into the rivers and streams, where wild animals drink the water and get completely geeked on speed. So bears and wolves, amped up on crank, start roaming the countryside looking for people to eat, even though they're not really hungry.
George Carlin: And the fire spreads to the forests, and the forests burn furiously, and hundreds of elves and trolls and fairies come running out of the woods screaming "Bambi is dead! Bambi is dead!" And he is! He is! Finally that fucking little cunt Bambi is dead! Dead! Now... now, hundreds of regional fires come together into one huge interstate inferno, and all twelve of the western United States are burning out of control, except Utah, where the Mormons don't allow fires. And then the fire spreads across the Great Plains, toasting the wheat, cooking the cattle and producing... hamburgers, actually. And it leaps to Mississippi, it races through the south, blowing up stills, interrupting lynchings, and killing millions of inbred people. And then it turns northeast and it heads for Washington, D.C., where George Bush can't decide if it's an emergency or not.
George Carlin: He can't decide this. He can't decide because Dick Cheney is in prison, so instead he takes a nap. He takes a nap. He puts his empty fucking brainless head down on the little pillow his mother gave him at Christmastime and he takes a fucking nap! So the fire moves to Philadelphia, but it's a weekend and Philadelphia's closed on the weekend, so the fire moves to New York City, and the people of New York tell the fire to go fuck itself!
[laughter and applause]
George Carlin: "Go fuck yourself!" Yeah. And it does. Yeah. And it does. So instead it burns down Long Island and Connecticut, killing all the rich white assholes and completely destroying their evil, faggoty golf courses. And while all this is going on, Canada burns to the ground, but nobody notices. And now the entire North American continent is on fire, producing a huge thermal updraft and creating an incendiary cyclonic macrosystem that forms a hemospheric megastorm, breaking down the molecular structure of the atmosphere and actually changing the laws of nature. Fire and water combine, burning clouds of flaming rain fall upward, gamma rays and solar winds ignite the ionosphere, creating huge clouds of ionized plasma. Bolts of lightning twenty million miles long begin shooting out of the North Pole, and the sky fills up with green shit. And then suddenly, the entire fabric of space-time splits in two! A huge crack in the universe opens, and all the dead people from the past begin falling through. Babe Ruth, Groucho Marx, Davy Crockett, Tiny Tim, Porky Pig, Hitler, Janis Joplin, Allen Ludden, my uncle Dave, your uncle Dave. Everybody's uncle Dave. An endless stream of dead uncle Daves falling through the crack. And all the dead uncle Daves gather around a heavenly kitchen table; they light up cigarettes and they begin to talk. They talk about how they never got a break, how their parents didn't love them and their children were ungrateful. They talk about how the government screwed them out of money and they just missed out on a big job. They say the Jews own everything and the blacks get special treatment. And all the hatred and bitterness drips out of these people and forms a big pool of liquid hate. And the pool of liquid hate begins to spin. Round and round it spins, faster and faster, and the faster it spins, the bigger it gets. Faster and faster, bigger and bigger, until the whirling pool of hate is bigger than the entire universe and then suddenly it EXPLODES into trillions of tiny stars. And every star has a trillion planets, and every planet has a trillion uncle Daves. And all the uncle Daves have good jobs, perfect eyesight, and shoes that fit. They have great sex lives and free healthcare. They understand the Internet, their kids think they're cool, and they all love their neighbors. And every week, without fail, uncle Dave wins the lottery. For ever and ever 'till the end of time, every single uncle Dave has a winning ticket. And uncle Dave is finally happy. Now do you see why I like it when nature gets even with humans?
George Carlin: [about the concept of suicide] That's probably the most interesting thing you can do with your life: end it!
George Carlin: Here's an interesting form of murder we've come up with: assassination. You know what's interesting about assassination? Well, not only does it change those popularity polls in a big fucking hurry...
George Carlin: ...but it's also interesting to notice who it is we assassinate. D'you ever notice who it is... stop to think who it is we kill? It's always people who've told us to to live together in harmony and try to love one another. Jesus, Gandhi, Lincoln, John Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, Malcolm X, John Lennon. They all said "Try to live together peacefully." BAM! Right in the fuckin' head. Apparently, we're not ready for that.
George Carlin: You wanna hear a really cool torture that the Romans invented? They also used it as a form of capital punishment, it's *really* creative. They would take the guy in question, stuff him in a burlap sack, seal the sack up real tight and throw it in the river. But, and here's the creative part, inside the sack, with the guy, they would put a dog, a monkey, and a snake. Okay? A dog, a monkey, and a snake. That's fucking creative! Imagine being inside a burlap sack, underwater, in the dark, sitting next to a drowning monkey. Think he'd be moving around a little bit? The dog would be going apeshit, we know that. And the snake? Well, he'd probably be getting curious about what all the activity was inside the sack. He might do anything. Whatever he did would probably involve venom and his teeth. You know what you'd be doing? You'd be praying to God that the snake bit the monkey and the dog ate the snake. Praying.
George Carlin: I think it's certainly apparent by now that one of the things I enjoy in life is excess... I like things that are excessive. I like excessive behavior, excessive language, excessive violence... it's fun. It's interesting. It's exciting. I like it when nature is excessive. That's why I like natural disasters. All these natural disasters that've been going on, I fucking love 'em. I can't get enough of them. Ah, when nature's going crazy, throwing things around, scaring people and destroying property, I'm a happy fucking guy. I'm a happy fucking guy. I look at it this way... For centuries now, man has done everything he can to destroy, defile, and interfere with nature: clear-cutting forests, strip-mining mountains, poisoning the atmosphere, over-fishing the oceans, polluting the rivers and lakes, destroying wetlands and aquifers... so when nature strikes back, and smacks me in the head and kicks me in the nuts, I enjoy that. I have absolutely no sympathy for human beings whatsoever. None. And no matter what kind of problem humans are facing, whether it's natural or man-made, I always hope it gets worse. Don't you? Don't you? Don't you have a part of you, a part of you that secretly hopes everything gets worse? When you see a big fire on TV... don't you hope it spreads? Don't you hope it gets completely out of control and burns down six counties? You don't root for the firemen do you? I mean I don't want them to get hurt or nothing, but I don't want them to put out my fire. That's my fire - that's nature showing off and having fun. I like fires. You know something else I like? Those spring floods in the Midwest! Aren't they great? Like clockwork, spring floods in the Midwest. Now I'm starting to notice... I'm starting to catch on, that every year... it's the same story. Another flood, in the same place, with the same people, on the same river- SAME FUCKING PEOPLE! And these people do not move, they will not fucking move! They repaint, put down new carpeting and wallpaper and they move right back into the same fucking house on the flood plain, next to the river, and then they wonder why grandma's floating downstream with the parakeet on her head! Fourth time, again, fourth fucking time. There's no learning curve with these people. It's very hard to feel sorry for them. Every year - same people, same rowboats! Out there paddling around... rescuing a chicken. What the fuck kind of a life is that? "Well our kids love it here...? Oh really, what do they got, gills? And while they're showing all that action on the screen, the announcer's saying to me "It's been raining steadily for three months now, the ground can't any more water... The river is cresting higher than it has it two centuries, the levees have washed away...? And I just hope it keeps raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining, and it rains steadily for five years... and then after that, for ten years it's cloudy. With occasional showers. And the river never returns to its natural banks! It becomes a completely new river, and the borders of three states have to be changed, and all the maps and atlases have to be redrawn and reprinted... and no one's couch ever completely dries out. For years and years, every time they sit down there's always that little "Squish...? "Dan, Linda, come on in you guys, have a seat" - "Squish!" "Squish!" I like that. I'm an interesting guy.
George Carlin: [George discussing suicide] That's it, I'm hanging myself and Wal-Mart's paying for it!
George Carlin: I don't think a writer could ever commit suicide. Do you? A writer would be too busy working on the note all God damn year. Trying to get it just right. First draft, second draft, third revision, whole new ending. Finally, he'd turn it into a book proposal and have a reason to live.
George Carlin: I don't think I could do that, though. Do you? God. I couldn't commit suicide if my life depended on it.
George Carlin: Men are four times more likely than women to commit suicide, even though women attempt it more. So men are better at it!
George Carlin: That's something else you gals will want to be workin' on.
George Carlin: Well, if you want to be truly equal, you're gonna have to start taking your own lives in greater numbers.
[cheers and applause]
George Carlin: Do you realise, that right this second, right now somewhere around the world some guy is getting ready to kill himself. Isn't that great? Statistics show that every year a million people commit suicide. Thats 2800 a day. That's one every thirty seconds.
[Stares at watch]
George Carlin: There goes another guy! And I say guy because men are four times more likely than women to commit suicide, even though women attempt it more. So men are better at it. That's something else you gals oughta be working on. Well if you wanna be truly equal you're gonna have to start taking your lifes in greater numbers.
George Carlin: I got 341 days sober and next year is my 50th anniversary in show business. Let's do a fuckin' show, huh?
George Carlin: Isn't it amusing to watch the commercials in between the sporting events on TV? Drink this! Drive that! Fuck you! They don't care.
George Carlin: It's called the American Dream. Because you have to be asleep to believe it.
George Carlin: Another word you don't hear too often is "dingleberies." You know? You never hear it on "Meet the Press." I think it's because "dingleberries" is one of those words you don't say too much past your tenth birthday. It's not a grown-up's word; it's a kid's word. "Dingleberries!" It alaways sounded kind of Christmas-y to me. Don't you think it has a holiday ring to it? Dingleberries. "John, you might want to hang some dingleberries over the front door! Then when Mary Anne comes over, she can kiss you under the dingleberries!"
George Carlin: "It is to be devoutly wished that she would kiss me... under the dingleberries."
George Carlin: Now, I'm a big fan of the, uh, prime time crime shows. I like all of them, pretty much. You know, I like "Law & Order" and all the spin-offs of that. I like, uh, "CSI" and all of those spin-offs.
[cheers and applause]
George Carlin: Yeah, because they're forensic shows. You know? And I'm just waiting for one night to be sitting there watching one of them shows, and the chief medical examiner turns to the lead detective and says "Steve, looks to me like after they killed this guy, the perpetrators rolled him over and cornholed him about thirty or forty fucking times."
George Carlin: "Look at that. That there is a posthumous multiple cornhole entry wound."
George Carlin: In prison, it's a social activity.
George Carlin: Yeah, it's right up there on the bulletin board: checkers, handball, cornholing.
George Carlin: You know something people don't talk about in public anymore? Pussy farts. Now I said this on my last HBO show, and apparently some people don't know what a pussy fart is, because I got some inquiries. A pussy fart is when a woman has a little extra air inside of her vagina, and when you thrust forward, it's kind of a...
[makes a whole bunch of nasty fart noises]
George Carlin: And the two of you are lying there, each wondering if the other one farted, and the guy is usually thinking, "Maybe she farts when she cums. Maybe she took a shit. God, I better stay out of that fuckin' bar."