This Time It's War

Longtime readers of this blog may know that I have been struggling with a story for years now called Process Five (at least that's the working title. I have had enough pussyfooting (And I love those open-toed shoes you're wearing - George Carlin) around. I am, here and now, openly declaring war on that goddamned story. Over the next two weeks I will turn that son of a bitch into a real story and send it out into the world. You heard me. The gauntlet is there for all to see.

George Carlin Has Died

I can't even begin to explain the huge influence George Carlin had on my sense of humor, much less my entire way of thinking. My sister turned me onto him in the early eighties with his 'best of' album Indecent Exposure. I taped it, shared it with all of my friends outside of school and even shared it with my mother (what was I thinking there?). Shortly thereafter, we discovered his HBO specials and the world was never the same.

His comedy became meaner and angrier in the last ten years and there was more commentary than before, but when he wanted to be funny, he'd still get me. Even at seventy years old the guy could have me in tears, I was laughing so hard. One reason that I was in awe of him was that even after fifty years in comedy, his act was still one of the most offensive and provocative out there. Who else could say that? Who, in any profession, spent forty years on the cutting edge?

George Carlin was insane, immature, biting, ridiculous, brilliant, insightful, and a host of other magnificent adjectives. From him I learned the term "Mongolian cluster fuck," and I always think of him when my dog freaks out upon my return from getting the mail at the end of the driveway. The world has lost someone special and important. I'll close with my favorite Carlin line:

"I never had a ten, but once I had five twos."