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I was 11 years old the first time I heard George Carlin. My family and I were vacationing in Ocean City, Maryland during the summer of 1977 and I was alone in front of the TV. My parents were reading in the next room as I flipped the channels hoping against hope to see something about KISS. On my fruitless journey around the channels to see my rock and roll idols, I came across a broadcast that would shape the course for the rest of my life. The picture was non-existent but the audio was crystal clear. Every taboo base vernacular for fornication, fellatio and excrement, words that just the mere thought of would cause me to giggle, were coming out of the TV in rapid fire succession. I could hardly believe my good fortune. Within seconds, I was convulsing on the floor with laughter and when my parents came in to see what was causing me such elation, all I could do was point at the TV as I gasped for breath. They too were amazed. This was a time before cable or the Internet and hearing anything even remotely profane let alone the highbrow potty mouth humor of George Carlin was unheard of. Instead of turning the channel, they both took a seat and listened. The whole family was enthralled by the then fledging audio signal of HBO’s transmission of Carlin’s stand up routine that was filling our living room. My parents enjoyed the performance but what really impressed them was the effect his bawdy humor had on their youngest son. I remember both of them cracking up looking at me as each obscenity sent me into a higher state of fevered delirium. To this day, my family recalls that moment with great fondness.
I was sad to hear of Carlin’s passing this week. Though his most recent work seemed to be mired in bitterness, his pivotal 1970’s stand up routines and his career-defining bit that led to his arrest in Milwaukee for disturbing the peace during a show in 1972, “The Seven Dirty Words You Can’t Say On Television” are some of the best and most challenging moments in American comedic history. Eschewing notions of decency, he explored the profane with an insatiable wit beguiling a man who restlessly probed and prodded the collective unconscious with a supreme surgical verbal precision. He rightly stands next to Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor as one of the most influential and blazingly funny comedians of his or any era.
On the day of Carlin’s passing, rapper Raymond “Boots” Riley was charged for uttering the dreaded, “F-word” during his performance this past weekend at the Bayou Boogaloo and Cajun Festival in Norfolk. Organizers of the event say this is the first time in 26 years they’ve pressed charges against a performer. The whole to-do about nothing comes less than a month after another whole to-do about nothing when some downtown residents and Vice Mayor Anthony L. Burfoot complained that they heard obscene language during Afr’Am Fest over Memorial Day weekend.
The cherished reason people feign outrage over hearing a certain vocal utterance is the effect that vocalization will have on the children. As a former child myself, I can attest that hearing such words in my youth had no negative effect on me whatsoever. In fact, hearing those words, especially in the context of the social commentary of George Carlin, filled me with a joy I can’t accurately put into words and nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is more precious than a child’s laughter. As an adult, my favorite thing about profanity is the effect it has on simpletons because (and I’m stating the painfully obvious here) there are so many other things in this world that merit moral indignation that it should be blindingly apparent that language, no matter how foul or obscene it may be to some people, is the least of society’s worries.
Thanks for the laughs, George. I’ll miss you.
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