I know, I know. Everyone's been babbling about George Carlin's death today, mourning the comic in a blog cloud of sorrow.
I'm not going to mourn his death so much as a dying breed of comic. Carlin made sure to put everyone on edge, something you don't see all too much these days. To me, it seems like young comics who rail against the system do so to make those who support them cheer and those whose views oppose them draw back in horror and rage. Plenty of other comics keep to politically correct topics.
Comedy is getting bland, and it's our fault. When a comic tells a joke that offends a particular group of people, we get together in our mob-think and crush them. No black jokes, fat jokes, gay jokes, ____________________ <- (insert your subculture here) if you know what's good for you. Unless, of course, you are a card carrying member of whatever group you're joking about. Then, it's all fun and games.
Life in general is getting surreal and fuzzy around the edges. It's going to be interesting to see where we end up as a species.
I think I'm the only girl I know my age who has listened to the hippie dippie weatherman on their own record, playing on their own turntable. (The same can be said about Django Reinhardt.)
While you watch endless YouTube clips of the comic mastermind and read all of the reports on his death, take a few moments to think about what he stood for. Think about his constant struggles against society, and then thank the people who carry on this tradition all around you, because they're what makes America great.
Monday, June 23, 2008
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