Clearly, not a fan of Lance and Tiger
George Carlin, the recently deceased comic, was a national treasure. I know that because the many accolades published this week told me so. One of them directed me to this video of a show Carlin performed earlier this year for HBO. This was his opening:
I’d like to begin by saying, fuck Lance Armstrong. Fuck him and his balls and his bicycles and his steroids and his yellow shirts and the dumb, empty expression on his face. I’m tired of that asshole. And while you’re at it, fuck Tiger Woods, too. There’s another jackoff I can do without.
I’m tired of being told who to admire in this country. Aren’t you sick of being told who your heroes ought to be? Being told who you ought to be looking up to? I’ll choose my own heroes, thank you very much.
And fuck Dr. Phil, too. Dr. Phil said I should express my emotions, so that’s what I’m doing.
Tee-hee. Yeah, ol’ George was a funny fellow. Those are some rib-ticklers all right. But why am I wincing, instead of laughing?
I’m wincing because by the end of his career, Carlin had come to personify the evolutionary arc of stand-up comedy. At first, he was funny. Then he was funny and raunchy. By the end, he was just raunchy. All the humor had been leached out, replaced with free-floating anger and paranoia.
I have to wonder, as I read his words above, whether Carlin wasn’t secretly contemptuous of the people who turned out for his shows and guffawed at such knee-slappers as “fuck Lance Armstrong.” After all, he was much-admired while still alive, a darling of the media — yet there he was just a few months ago, declaring his disgust with a celebrity-obsessed society that jams “heroes” down our throats. Unless Carlin was so utterly lacking in self-awareness so as to not know he was one of the very people that others are told to admire, then he had to be sourly and privately amused by the adoration accorded him.
Then again, maybe Carlin was devoid of such self-awareness. Maybe he made no connection between his career and his words. If so — that’s funny.
June 25th, 2008 at 10:46 am
G.D.,
The difference between George Carlin and Tiger/Lance/Dr. Phil is all those celebrities are corporate-powered and forced upon us (the first two by Nike —among other entities — and Dr. Phil by the Oprah and CBS/Viacom media monsters) in commercials, billboards, magazine ads and, of course, endorsed products. George never sold out. He did everything on his terms, and changed not only comedy but our way of living. And he did it all while standing the test of time.
My biggest issue with your post is that you have not distinguished between George Carlin the comedian and George Carlin the person.
If you want to have the opinion that he wasn’t funny at the end, that’s fine. Was his older material better than his newer stuff? For the most part, sure. But you can say that of any performer/artist. More importantly, though, did his old material hold up? As a 31-year-old who heard much of Carlin’s famous work well after it was originally performed, I can state that, unequivocally, it did. I’m sure the 50-somethings who go to see The Rolling Stones or The Who perform are much more interested in hearing Sympathy for the Devil or My Generation than track No. 3 off the latest album. And you know what? Their kids (like me) can appreciate and love those old songs, too.
Like a columnist, a comedian is expected to have an opinion on everything. Would you say you were as passionate in your heart about every column you wrote as your words in print would suggest? Could I take a sentence or a paragraph out of one your past columns, and hold you to its principles one month, one year, a decade down the road?
Your final N&O column states that one of the reasons you were leaving the newspaper business was because “it’s a game for youngsters” and that adapting to the information age “needs to be done by people wiser than I.” Yet here you are, with a blog — a symbol of everything that drove you from and threatens the newspaper industry. So you left the N&O, but are still carrying on with what you do, who you are. Carlin had a passion for his life’s work that wouldn’t allow him to let go either. And in the end, he never had to let go.
Maybe there was a part of George that wished he could’ve mirrored that rock anthem that was also shaped the ’60s generation … “hope I die before I get old.” But in the end, every person has a choice to carry on with what they know, what they love, or to fade away. I guess you can question anything you want — we all can, but shouldn’t Carlin be remembered for his insights, his impact and, most of all, his passion? I’d figure someone who also couldn’t let go would understand.
June 25th, 2008 at 12:43 pm
I think it’s a funny bit myself. It is angry. That’s part of the reason it’s funny.
I relate to Carlin’s rage. There’s a whole world out there driven by people younger than I am who look at the world with a different value system. They make a lot of the rules now - particularly as they relate to contemporary popular standards. It makes an old, fifty-something guy like me feel powerless sometimes.
Cory makes some good points. And it’s nice to see a young guy who appreciates the work of an old master. And I must be old if I think a 31-year old is young.
But I will cut Armstrong/Woods a little slack. Those guys are heroes due to exemplary, individual accomplishment (not withstanding Lance’s alleged steroid use). Granted, both are absolutely shoved down our throats by their corporate sponsors. I get sick of seeing them sometimes too. But they are all-time greats in their respective fields.
But Dr. Phil? I couldn’t agree more f— him. And while I’m at it f— Nike too.
This feels f—ing good.
June 26th, 2008 at 11:10 pm
I’m not prepared to glorify George Carlin’s endgame. To me his last 10-15 years were vacuous, relying on rage and shock instead of wit and prophecy. Nor was his personal behavior on stage or off particulary interesting or commendatory. Not a good exit. Question is, when Robin Williams and Steve Martin, etc turn 70, what will they be like. Same question for me.