George Carlin (1937-2008)

In 1985, on a flight from Dulles to O'Hare, I was tuning through the "pipe music" (when headsets were still free) when I first encountered the comedy of George Carlin. The material obviously had to be moderated due to open access, yet it was no less enjoyable. It is this earlier, PG-rated Carlin that I remembered most. Over the next few years, old friend JB fed me a steady diet of equally-moderated material, which I in turn passed on to long-suffering classmates and associates, to the point where I included a quote from Al Sleet (The Hippie-Dippie Weather Man) on my high school yearbook page, and even downright plagiarized some of his material in a newspaper mock-up for a tenth grade English project.

On the legendary trip to Botswana a short time later, Wethead had brought his boombox along and hooked up a microphone so he and the Hose could narrate and sing along as they felt inclined. At one point, Hose shoved the mic in my face and asked me announce what station we were listening to. Without missing a beat, I announced that "you're listening to W-I-N-O, the Big Sound in the Big City -- WONDERFUL WINO RADIO!"

Then, as a freshman in college, I was sitting in a Bioscience Lab one Tuesday evening when a classmate started talking about his experience in Catholic school vis-a-vis Carlin's reminisces in routines such as "I used to be Irish-Catholic." I think I can get along with this guy, I surmised. We would be in each other's weddings, and we are still friends today, twenty years later.

Ah, yes -- plenty of good stuff. Son of WINO -- Class Clown -- The 11 O'Clock News -- Baseball & Football -- The Hair Piece -- A Place for My Stuff! -- People I Can Do Without -- and more...

But it was around this time (mid- to late-1980's) that Carlin's comical cynicism evolved (or deteriorated) into unambiguous nihilism, the ultimate (and natural) outgrowth of his atheism.

And nihilism, once you get past the first uncomfortable guffaw, really isn't all that funny.

Perhaps this is evidence that comedy (like just about everything else) might cause a momentary pleasurable sensation, but when lacking any semblance of a moral foundation, it only leaves you empty and searching for meaning. This is how Carlin leaves us -- the laughter has stopped and as we catch our breath we look back only to see a desolate wasteland of nothingness. Though he would never admit it publicly, he was undoubtedly having the same vision as the curtains -- both literal and figurative -- fell.