Feed Your Brain

George Carlin has left the building

Having reached middle age I find those people who’ve influenced me most are dying off. It’s all too common to open the newspaper in the morning to read of the passing of somebody else who was a part of my childhood or intellectual development. It just seems to be the way middle age is. Along with the ear hairs and achy joints, the obituary page starts being personal. You’d think I’d be used to it. That the dark novelty would’ve worn off by now. That I wouldn’t feel shocked with each and every name I recognize. But it hasn’t and I do.

So it was when I read of George Carlin’s death on Sunday. What can I say? I didn’t know him, I just listened to him and watched his performances. And although he made a small contribution to freedom of speech case law by daring to say those seven words the FCC didn’t want to hear, he didn’t make any great contribution to science or the humanities. He didn’t end hunger. He didn’t cure cancer. He didn’t even give a shit most of the time. He was just a funny man. A historical footnote as he’d say.

Yet George Carlin was important to me, or at least to the development of the way I think about and interact with the world, most notably when it comes to religion. While his routine, and I fear his personal worldview, evolved into nothing more than knee-jerk cynicism in his later years, Carlin was at his core a skeptic. A freethinker. He wasn’t the kind of person who just accepted things at face value and took a sort of perverse pleasure in prying apart our language to get at what people were really saying, and he entertained people while doing so. There’s value to that I think.


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