RIP: George Carlin (1937-2008)

I'm almost at a loss for words right now. This is terrible. George Carlin was one of my idols, and now he's gone.

I went online to check my email, and the top headline was 'Comedian George Carlin dead at age 71.' I usually don't blog on impulse like this; in fact I had planned to write a blog on how I saw Get Smart over the weekend and how it was fucking great, but then I read that Carlin had died. Sadly, I was dreading this day for a while. I knew he was getting up there in age, and his most recent HBO special shown him looking more worn and less energetic (but nonetheless brilliant). He also reflected on death a lot, which is now just plain old weird.

Whenever I'm driving, I shuffle my iPod, which includes several of his later day acts (I haven't gotten around to putting a good bulk of his stuff on it yet), and whenever he came on, I usually wouldn't skip it all that much. His humor was so dead-on, and he was just RIGHT on most of the topics he ranted about. His analysis of the Ten Commandments and why we don't need them ranks among one of the most brilliant pieces of stand-up comedy ever. He never relented, regardless of his age. He never obeyed boundaries; rather, he trampled all over them like a herd of pissed off elephants. He tore up the metaphorical "envelope" like a high school boy tearing up a note from his girlfriend saying that she wanted to break up. He analyzed the flaws of politics, religion and American culture to the point where he served as a commentator of the times, especially post-September 11th.

I always thought that when Comedy Central did their list of the 100 Greatest Stand Up Comics of All Time, Carlin should have taken the #1 spot (Richard Pryor ranked at #1, with Carlin right behind him at #2). That's probably because I'm generally not too familiar with Richard Pryor's material (although I probably should be, the stand-up comedy enthusiast I am). It also could be because I prefer comics that are more acerbic and more critical of society (Bill Hicks, Doug Stanhope, Lewis Black).

I don't know what else to say about this. Some writer I am.

George Carlin was an atheist. He didn't believe in God or religion. He was even famous for saying "If there is a God, may he strike me dead!" Maybe God didn't strike him dead. Perhaps George was just tired of this world. He had a history of substance abuse issues throughout his life, and even went to rehab a few years ago. Maybe as some sort of spiritual vice, he unloaded his thoughts and ideals on audiences for a good five decades, wrote a few books, and even starred in Kevin Smith's "Dogma" as a cardinal. If you ever watched any of his performances, they were high energy, high octane and of high caliber. Perhaps as a way to deal with a society that is so focused on morals and values and other bullshit, he lambasted it, and you could easily infer that he took his contempt for society out on his own body. During what turned out to be his last HBO Special, "It's Bad For Ya," I said to my girlfriend that something seemed different about him. I knew that it would be his last comedy special. His grand finale. He did a couple of shows up in Northampton, MA, about 90 minutes away from my home back in April. I should have just gotten tickets and seen the man himself, but regrettably I didn't. I didn't go partially because I knew that he was on his way out. His tone of voice was that of an old wise man (and unlike the fiery, crotchety old man he was more like just a few years ago). He went on both The View and Keith Olbermann's MSNBC show and ranted about apocalyptic topics. He flat out said on Olbermann's show that America was finished because "no one questions things anymore" and that the population has been distracted by toys & gizmos. He also saw the occurrence of natural disasters, such as Hurricane Katrina and the California wildfires as nature's retaliation about people overbuilding, overpopulating and over consuming. "The planet is fine," he said. "The people are fucked."

Indeed we are fucked. The Socrates of stand-up comedy is now gone. Dane Cook is alive and well. The election is coming up. We have Bush's mess to clean up, and I drive by too many Hummers every day.

Rest In Peace, George.

Ennui

I seem to be going through this period of complete and absolute boredom with virtually everything. Every day seems like a shitty routine of monotony and tedium. I guess it all coincided with a short-lived yet excruciating heat wave that swept through Connecticut earlier this week. I'm a shift supervisor at Starbucks in Newtown, CT, and work has been hell lately due to the warm weather, so people order Frappucinos left and right. As much as I hate work sometimes, I haven't had too much fun anywhere else lately.

Why do I go through these doldrums? I guess they are a part of life. For whatever reason, I get them around the same time every year, but this is a little different. This is a boredom that calls for some sort of change in my life, whether it be location wise, clearing up issues that are still up in the air or stopping the patterns of a relationship that is not working (in this case, the complicated whirlwind of a relationship with my mother). I should call my former school's financial aid office about some bill they send to me, and I'm trying to save my pennies to move out of here and to somewhere else (Boston, maybe). A good short lists of goals... put off by me playing Grand Theft Auto III (here's to me trying to save up for a Playstation III, and the highly coveted Grand Theft Auto IV!).

I guess I'm just sick & tired of feeling like my life has gone nowhere and that it's doomed to this stagnant status. I'm tired of thinking and not doing what I think. I'm tired of not writing and not having the energy or motivation to (this pastime has lead to the conception and loss of great ideas) . I'm tired of not having this easy (physically) lifestyle work for me anymore. I'm tired of whining about this stupid shit. I'm tired of having an imaginary David Byrne say to me "same as it ever was!" whenever I get lazy. It's time to take action!

I just rented 3 books from the library. When I was 16, I used to rent like 5 or 6 (or more) at a time, but this was back when I had at least six classes I could read through (in a lot of cases). This was also back when I had no steady girlfriend or many friends I could rely on to hang out. A part of me misses that, but when I look back wishing I had friends and true love was complete torture I wouldn't subject myself to if you paid me a billion dollars.

Your average first entry

I had a livejournal since 2001 when I was 16. In 24 days, I'm gonna be 23. My livejournal served me well. It chronicled most of my hellish odyssey that was high school, as well as the tough transition into adulthood, and all of the trials & tribulations that came with it. Now I think it's time to start something new up, perhaps something more creative. My older sister, Kari, has a blog on here (www.myinflammatorywrit.blogspot.com) and she writes everything from daily life to social commentary. Hopefully I can create something here like that, where I could do everything from personal blogs, to rants about politics, pop culture, etc., reviews of music, movies and the like, and all that type of shit.

What are my credentials? None, really. Editor-in-chief of my high school paper senior year, and almost endless praise from my creative writing teachers. But I graduated from high school 4 years ago. I'm in a band called The Nepotists (we really need a fucking bass player), but we've only played a few small shows, the last one in June 2007. I'm an amateur editor. I recently helped one of my friends edit a book which is apparently well on its way to being published. I would have edited the whole thing but I had a lot going on, and I think a professional editor would have done a better job, considering professional editors are getting paid for it. I write, but lately my writing's been pretty sporadic. I tried writing for the college paper when I was going, but ultimately failed to keep up with a lot of deadlines. Besides, writing contrived articles about events in an uneventful school wasn't exactly getting me anywhere.

Now I'm writing again. The friend I have who's writing his book (a man by the name of Chris Ross) was talking to me recently and asked me why I stopped. Him getting to the next step in writing a book (publishing, agents) was kind of an epiphany for me. I've seen this guy so drunk that he can't stand up. He only went to college for a year or two. And he's publishing a book. So why can't I do something with my supposed "gift?"

My current project is kind of like my own version of Kerouac's "Vanity of Duluoz," where I write fictionalized accounts of events that happened in my life, especially during the last 4 years. Only I don't think I'll inspire an entire generation of writers (if there even is a next generation), and I've only written a couple of pieces (but I felt exhilarated when I wrote them). I also hope to get my band going soon.

I'll write more about myself later; perhaps an extended 'about me' blog so you'll get more of a sense of who I am. And Nick Hogan is whining about his prison sentence and I smell a rant coming.