Give 'Em Hell In The Afterlife, Or Wherever You Are, George.

GEORGE CARLIN, THE KING OF THE COURT JESTERS, IS DEAD

I remember reading "Hamlet" for the first time when I was about fourteen and thinking that Yorick, the long-dead court jester whose bare skull Hamlet holds in the graveyard in Act 5, Scene 1, was probably a genius. The reverence with which Hamlet handles Yorick's skull after discovering its identity, and the longing nearly every Hamlet I've seen on stage displays when he asks the skull where "your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar" went, suggest something much more (and far deeper) than simply light-hearted wit; it suggests a sort of lost genius.

But, putting aside the fact that he was a fictional character for a moment, Yorick was of a different era--one in which a court jester could be a court jester, and very little else. (Perhaps if he had fallen out of favor with the royal court, he might have scraped by as one of the grave-digging clowns of the same graveyard scene.)

Due partly to the era in which he lived, George Carlin was a liberated court jester--a liberated Yorick. He was funny in a whimsical manner, to be sure, but he was also biting and political, and his humorous observations (certainly not always "jokes") were multi-layered and meant to provoke a strong response. He might start off in "safe" territory for mixed crowds (then again, he might not), but you just knew it wouldn't be long before he would stick a metaphorical knife in the sides of all the would-be aristocrats and cruise-control middle class folks and, yes, even his fellow jesters, including himself.

What was best about Mr. Carlin, even beyond watching him dismantle the slovenly comfort of what he often saw as unearned mass affluence, was watching him--and ourselves--get high on whatever ideas were coming to his mind at any given moment. When he started riffing on whatever theme he'd happened upon, his audience often started reeling in the excitement of being swept away on an extended tangent by an intelligence that was as sharp as it was distinctly, innovatively "American."

It's no wonder that, later this year, he was set to receive the Mark Twain award for excellence in American humor. Though never a fan of the idea of "heaven," he's probably having a beer with Mr. Twain...somewhere...right now.

Here are some Carlin-observations that strike me as being politically appropriate and provocative to the present cultural atmosphere...certainly, they are not for, say, hard-core Mike Huckabee fans, or anyone so sensitive/myopic that they cannot take being offended:

--"I keep hearing that America lost its innocence on 9/11. I thought that happened when JFK was shot. Or was it Vietnam? Pearl Harbor? How many times can America lose its innocence? Maybe we keep finding it again. Doubtful. Because, actually, if you look at the record, you'll find that America has had very little innocence from the beginning."

--"In the United States, anybody can be president. That's the problem."

--"Bush calls the al Qaeda people cowards, and says, 'They like to hide.' Well, isn't that what the American Continental Army did during the American Revolution? Our beloved patriots? They hid. They hid behind trees. Then they came out, killed some British soldiers, and ran away. That's what you do when you're outnumbered and have less firepower than the enemy.... Bill Maher may have stretched the point when he said that air force pilots who release their bombs from hundreds of miles away are cowards; flying combat jets doesn't attract many cowards.... However, I will say this. Getting out of the Vietnam war through daddy's connections and then not living up to your end of the bargain is probably a form of cowardice."

--"I don't like ass-kissers, flag wavers, or team players. I like people who buck the system. Individuals. I often warn kids: 'Somewhere along the way, someone is going to tell you that there is no "I" in team. What you should tell them is, maybe not, but there is an "I" in independence, individuality, and integrity.... Avoid teams at all cost. Keep your circle small. Never join a group that has a name. If they say, 'We're the So-and-Sos,' take a walk. And if, somehow, you must join, if it's unavoidable, such as a union or a trade association, go ahead and join. But don't participate; it will be your death. And if they tell you you're not a team player, just congratulate them on being so observant.'"

--"The Secret News: Announcer (whispering), 'Good evening, ladies and gentlement, it's time for the Secret News. Here it is:
All people are afraid.
No one knows what they're doing.
Everything is getting worse.
Some people deserve to die.
Your money is worthless.
No one is properly dressed.
At least one of your children will disappoing you.
The system is rigged.
Your house will never be completely clean.
Most teachers are incompetent.
There are people who really dislike you.
Nothing is as good as it seems.
Things don't last.
No one is paying attention.
The country is dying.
God doesn't care.
Shhhhh....'"

--"Have you heard people talking, or read what they've written lately? Isn't it awful? Some people tell me that, in the future, everyone will speak the same langauge. Well, that may be, but no one will speak it well."

And here's a Carlin tangent that just about says it all regarding his skills of invention:

"No one ever wrote this sentence before: On the Feast of Saint Steven, I was driving my hearse to the wholesale liverwurst outlet when suddenly a hermaphrodite in a piano truck backed out of a crackhouse driveway, and, as my shoes caught fire, I pirouetted across Boris Karloff Boulevard, slapping the truck driver six times in the loins with a Chattanooga road map, even though he was humming 'The Pussycat Song.'"

I don't know where all of that came from, but there's something both surprising and invigorating in it. Alas, provocateur George is dead. We knew him well.