George Carlin — Died 6/22/08

George Carlin was more than just another standup comedian. Sure, he was a master of the kind of observational humor that made superstars out of the likes of Jerry Seinfeld and Dennis Miller. He was also a fine comedic actor, with memorable roles in several Kevin Smith movies, Mel Brooks films and of course, as Rufus, spiritual guide to everyone’s favorite miscreant metal heads, Bill and Ted. He was also a fine author, whose book Brain Droppings, is required reading for anyone who appreciates stark cynicism and a sharp wit.

But more than that, Carlin was a social revolutionary - a pioneer who fought battles to the very end against government, organized religion, traditional thought and other dark forces that constantly conspire to constrict our human rights and force their own moral boundaries on our society. Whenever he graced the public eye, Carlin made it a point to be a personal affront to the Moral Majority. He didn’t do it for ratings, publicity or other selfish reasons, though. He had a global vision of what life could be like if humans, as a species, could just simply get over ourselves and stop believing that the world is ours by divine providence. He was fond of saying that people have no rights, but rather privileges - temporary privileges that can be taken away at any time. Unlike most Americans, or people in general for that matter, Carlin took what privileges he had and used them to try to better inform people about their place in this world.

Like most great philosophers and free thinkers throughout history, Carlin didn’t start out his career with such aspirations. After a brief career in radio in the late 1950s (which included a stint on Fort Worth’s KXOL), he began his comedy career with partner Jack Burns. The pair toured and made TV appearances as Burns & Carlin. It was comprised of mostly old-style Vaudevillian comedy, with little real substance other than humor. But in the mid 60s, as young people were, on the whole, beginning to question things about their government and their place in society, Carlin, too, began to wonder if his path was right. As his disillusionment with the status quo and older generational thinking grew, it became apparent to him that he was entertaining the very people he felt were holding him back. Like groundbreaking comic Lenny Bruce before him, he went through a metamorphosis. His stage shows got more and more apolitical in nature, and his routines got more risqué.

He was arrested many times along his path to acceptance, by breaking barriers such as acceptable language and tackling heretofore-taboo subject matter. Carlin spun out comedy gem after comedy gem, like The Seven Words You Can’t Say On TV, A Place For My Stuff and Football vs. Baseball. His routines challenged people to think outside the box, some for the first time in their lives. In 1975, Carlin hosted the inaugural episode of Saturday Night Live, and in many ways, set the stage for the social impact that show would have on every young generation since. His routine that night on God, Jesus and the validity of the Bible was shocking and highly controversial, but it was also effective in changing the way some people thought about ideals they used to take for granted. “I used to be Catholic,” he quipped, “that is until I reached the age of reason.”

His career and influence continued to grow and excel even up until his death last month. His last HBO special, It’s Bad For Ya, was taped earlier this year and is airing now. It contains some of his funniest, and most poignant, material to date. No doubt there are hours of unreleased goodness that will surface in his absence. We can only hope the man has more genius to share with us, even from the grave. Somehow, I think the thought of still torturing his detractors from beyond this life would be quite appealing to him.
(Kevin White)