Showing posts with label George Carlin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George Carlin. Show all posts

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Panda Porn and the Argument for Extinction


All things considered, shouldn’t some animals just go extinct on their own? I’m not talking about certain species of whales or the buffalo, animals that man hunted to the brink through sheer selfish greed, or the passenger pigeon, which we did hunt to extinction through our own selfishness.

The dodo bird was killed off on their island of Mauritius after the Portuguese and Dutch showed up with dogs and pigs and monkeys to destroy the nests and eat the eggs, and then they stole away all the nesting land to build on.

No, I’m talking about animals that, without our help, would just go away like they did for millions of years before Man sauntered into the picture.

Just think, if we’d been around a few million years earlier, we would have set up giant tracts of land that no one could use, just to keep the last two remaining T-rex specimens alive. Oh wait, we did that already & called it Montana, where the T-Rex lived…and they died anyways.

Save the Wooly Mammoth! They can go back to roaming the wastes of Greenland, about the only place left on earth where they won’t die of heat-stroke.



In 2006, there was this huge buzz about zoo keepers in Thailand and China using films of panda bears mating to get their own zoo pandas to become more willing to copulate. Panda porn, boys and girls, I kid you not. When your species has declined to the point where they will no longer willingly mate, isn’t that a serious sign that the species is circling the drain? Panda porn is not going to save a species that is already mostly dependent upon man’s artificial insemination, artificial child rearing, and captive environments to stay alive. They only eat one thing, bamboo, which has almost no nutritional value so they move slowly and have like no metabolism They breed slowly, if at all, and live where nothing else grows. They pretty much are an evolutionary dead-end; not quite a bear, not quite a raccoon, with no complete ancestry ever found. A mutation, I guess you’d call it.

Sure, we can blame China’s crowded, polluted, destructive way of conducting itself, but maybe we can also say that maybe they’ve run their course as a species and it’s time to say goodbye. Many myacid species that were similar to giant pandas did the same thing.

Maybe 10,000 years ago, had we stepped out of our caves and saved the graceful Baluchatherium, we could have had herds of giant hybrid rhino/tapir beasts three times larger than elephants running amok in Baluchistan today. At least, until they stepped on all the land mines or were loaded down with explosives by Muslim insurgents. See, Baluchistan is an ancient realm that was sorta part of Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Iran. Hey, Achmed, let’s see you ride a Baluchatherium loaded with explosives into a crowded market…




On the beaches of America you can no longer have your lights on after dark, because sea turtles get all stupefied and confused, and then get lost and can’t find the beaches they lay their eggs on. And after hatching the baby turtles get disoriented and head inland instead of to the sea. I don’t know if it’s the lights so much as the loud drunken parties and crappy music. I know that I’m less inclined to gravitate towards screaming people swilling Corona Light and trying to harmonize to “Margaritaville”. Being eaten by crabs and shorebirds is almost preferable.

Right now, the honey bee is fighting for species survival from some unknown parasite or disease that is killing off entire hives and entire beekeeping colonies. Bees are important, not only for the honey, but because there are like 22 different food crops in America that depend on bees as their sole source of pollination. We could lose the bees, and lose several important food crops. But something tells me that this has happened before, every few thousand years, and Nature adapted and found new ways to pollinate different crops and create different sweet gooey substances.

Yes, Man encroaches on the living space of lots of species, and we’ve done a lot of damage. I personally would hate to lose the whales, the buffalo, the bald eagle, the honey bee, the peregrine falcon, and the sea turtles. Every time we find a trendy new fish to eat, we overfish it till we have to find another. A few years ago, all you saw in the stores and restaurants was orange roughy. Not anymore. Where the hell did they all go? We ate them all. Now it’s tilapia. In a couple years, after we eat all of the tilapia, we’ll go on to eat some other fish we’d never heard of, at least not until someone on FoodTV slathered it in a chipotle gorgonzola chutney and some Italian flat-leaf parsley. I suggest we all start eating mullet, since the name recognition in the South alone is priceless. Or, if you have to have something with an exotic name, start eating barramundi. That sounds cool, and it’s a plentiful farm-raised fish.

But really, something like 90% of all the animals that have ever lived on Earth are already extinct, without our help and without our hindrance. We didn’t kill them all. They lived, they died, and Nature moved on. You want to save an endangered species? Look in the mirror. Man is a lot closer to extinction than anything else…and if you didn’t see the special on History Channel called “Life After People”, I urge you to do so. It was very eye-opening, how fast the planet will recover after we disappear, and utterly fascinating and humbling. Here’s a link:
http://www.history.com/minisites/life_after_people


I leave you with some words of wisdom from the late George Carlin.


"We're so self-important; so self-important. Everybody's going to save something now. "Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save those snails." And the greatest arrogance of all: save the planet. What? Are these fucking people kidding me? Save the planet, we don't even know how to take care of ourselves yet! We haven't learned how to care for one another; we're gonna save the fucking planet?

I'm getting tired of that shit, tired of that shit. I'm tired of fucking Earth Day, I'm tired of these self-righteous environmentalists, these white, bourgeois Liberals who think the only thing wrong with this country is there aren't enough bicycle paths. People trying to make the world safe for their Volvos. Besides, environmentalists don't give a shit about the planet. They don't care about the planet, not in the abstracts they don't. Not in the abstract they don't. You know what they're interested in? A clean place to live. Their own habitat. They're worried that some day in the future, they might be personally inconvenienced. Narrow, unenlightened self-interest doesn't impress me.

Besides, there is nothing wrong with the planet, nothing wrong with the planet. The planet is fine. The PEOPLE are fucked. Difference. Difference. The planet is fine. Compared to the people, the planet is doing great; been here four and a half billion years. Did you ever think about the arithmetic? The planet has been here four and a half billion years. We've been here, what, a hundred thousand? Maybe two hundred thousand? And we've only been engaged in heavy industry for a little over two hundred years. Two hundred years, versus four and a half billion. And we have the CONCEIT to think that somehow we're a threat? That somehow we're gonna put in jeopardy this beautiful little blue-green ball that's just a-floatin' around the sun?


The planet has been through a lot worse than us. Been through all kinds of things worse than us. Been through earthquakes, volcanoes, plate tectonics, continental drift, solar flares, sun spots, magnetic storms, the magnetic reversal of the poles...hundreds of thousands of years of bombardment by comets and asteroids and meteors, worldwide floods, tidal waves, worldwide fires, erosion, cosmic rays, recurring ice ages...And we think some plastic bags and some aluminum cans are going to make a difference? The planet...the planet...the planet isn't going anywhere. WE ARE!

We're going away. Pack your shit, folks. We're going away. And we won't leave much of a trace, either. Thank God for that. Maybe a little styrofoam. Maybe, a little styrofoam. The planet'll be here and we'll be long gone. Just another failed mutation. Just another closed-end biological mistake. An evolutionary cul-de-sac. The planet'll shake us off like a bad case of fleas; a surface nuisance.

You wanna know how the planet's doing? Ask those people at Pompeii, who are frozen into position from volcanic ash, how the planet's doing. You wanna know if the planet's all right, ask those people in Mexico City or Armenia or a hundred other places buried under thousands of tons of earthquake rubble, if they feel like a threat to the planet this week. Or how about those people in Kilauea, Hawaii, who built their homes right next to an active volcano, and then wonder why they have lava in the living room.

The planet will be here for a long, long, LONG time after we're gone, and it will heal itself, it will cleanse itself, 'cause that's what it does. It's a self-correcting system. The air and the water will recover, the earth will be renewed, and if it's true that plastic is not degradable, well, the planet will simply incorporate plastic into a new paradigm: the Earth Plus Plastic. The earth doesn't share our prejudice towards plastic. Plastic came out of the earth. The earth probably sees plastic as just another one of its children. Could be the only reason the earth allowed us to be spawned from it in the first place. It wanted plastic for itself. Didn't know how to make it, needed us. Could be the answer to our age-old egocentric philosophical question, "Why are we here?" Plastic...assholes.

So, the plastic is here, our job is done; we can be phased out now. And I think that's really started already, don’t you? Don't you think that's already started? I think, to be fair, the planet sees us as a mild threat, something to be dealt with. And the planet can defend itself in an organized, collective way, the way a beehive or an ant colony can. A collective defense mechanism. The planet will think of something. What would you do if you were the planet? How would you defend yourself against this troublesome, pesky species? Let's see... Viruses? Viruses might be good. They seem vulnerable to viruses. And, uh...viruses are tricky, always mutating and forming new strains whenever a vaccine is developed. Perhaps, this first virus could be one that compromises the immune system of these creatures. Perhaps a human immunodeficiency virus, making them vulnerable to all sorts of other diseases and infections that might come along. And maybe it could be spread sexually, making them a little reluctant to engage in the act of reproduction.

Well, that's a poetic note. And it's a start. And I can dream, can't I? See I don't worry about the little things: bees, trees, whales, snails. I think we're part of a greater wisdom than we will ever understand. A higher order. Call it what you want. Know what I call it? The Big Electron. The Big Electron...whoooa. Whoooa. Whoooa. It doesn't punish, it doesn't reward, it doesn't judge at all. It just is. And so are we. For a little while."


Friday, June 27, 2008

Under The Influence


With the passing of George Carlin last weekend, I started thinking of all the people who influenced my writing style and my humor over the years. I look at my sense of humor and my writing style as a symbiotic relationship. I like to make people laugh and I like to make people think. Humor is an easy way to put facts out to people in a mostly disarming way that gets them to think about what’s wrong with the world and keep them thinking about it by presenting it in a manner that’s less dry but still in-your-face. I love to make people laugh; it’s one of my own greatest personal satisfactions. I lack the wherewithal and temerity to be a standup comic, though, and instead focus my efforts to entertain through the written word. I envy comics for their ability to get on stage and do what they do while I peck away on a keyboard.

One of my school mates, a year behind me at dear old Robert W. Traip Academy in Kittery, Maine was Juston McKinney. Juston was a quiet dude in school, unlike me, and it kinda surprised me that he ended up in stand up. I never suspected that he had the talent hidden away. However, the man is hilarious, and it’s always a treat to catch him on TV. It’s ironic that while we both went into law enforcement after school, he went on to be a comic and I went on to write an obscure blog with a smaller audience than the Versus cable channel. Juston inspires me by showing me that a guy from a small Maine high school can make it with a little luck and a little perseverance. Please, I beg of you, go look him up and support his material.

But who were my inspirations to write, and write with such a skewed bent?

I already mentioned George Carlin, whose ability to call it as he saw it was amazing, as well as his vast command of the English language.

Hunter S. Thompson’s book “Generation of Swine” and his essay “Fear and Loathing on the Kindergarten Trail” were hugely impactful on me. Sarcastic and totally irreverent, always questioning authority and pointing out the absurdity of life, Thompson’s “gonzo journalism” showed me that you could be a writer, with a real job, and still be yourself. (UPDATE 2015: Turns out the essay was a parody of his style, done by The National Lampoon Magazine, entitled Fear and Loathing on the Nursery School Trail.)

Dennis Miller, of all the people on Saturday Night Live who did the weekly news send-ups, did it the best. I never cared much for Chevy Chase, Kevin Nealon was just okay, and Colin Quinn’s gravel voice grated my nerves. Norm MacDonald did a decent job, and the duo of Tina Fey and Jimmy Fallon was as close to the classic sarcasm and parody of Miller as SNL could ever hope for. For a news-junkie like me, to be able to mock the news is great fun.

Denis Leary is a master of the rant. I love a good rant. Ranting is an under-appreciated art. He’s also from the Boston area, and a lot of his references strike home with me. He loves hockey, the Red Sox, and coffee-flavored coffee.

Kevin Smith, director of some of the funniest movies I have ever seen. He understands the absurd, and perfects it. It’s hard to watch a Smith flick and not find a character in it that doesn’t remind you of someone you know. I love how he pays homage to his own heroes in his films, like Carlin and Stan Lee, and he’s also a hockey fan to boot.

The late Sam Kinison taught me that if the squeaky wheel gets the grease, then the screaming wheel gets the attention. His whole style was delivered with the fire of a holy roller revival meeting and it was so in-your-face that it simply blew me away.

And, oddly enough, I owe some measure of my writing influence to Kurt Vonnegut. In high school I read a couple of his novels, and you had to struggle to keep up with the timeline shifts, the characters, and even what the hell the story was even about…and anyone who has ever heard me try to tell a story in person knows that I’m the same way. Some of my blogs seem to amble on that way too...

So, who influenced you?

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

The Passing of a Genius


I lost one of my childhood heroes this weekend. I’m not sure if it’s fully sunk in yet that he’s gone, but in my humble opinion the world will now be a slightly emptier place with his passing. He may have been a rather odd choice of heroes, but then again I’m a bit of an odd duck myself.

George Carlin had a huge impact on me, and on both my sense of humor and my writing style. I always loved that his biting sarcasm was riddled with truth, since the best comedy has the truth as its base. That’s what makes it funny. Carlin wasn’t just about his “Seven Words You Can’t Say On Television” bit that made him a household name. He had an expansive vocabulary and often interjected “big words” into his bits. In fact, language was a frequent focus of Carlin's work. Euphemisms and popular catch-phrases that in his view sought to distort and lie, and the use of language he felt was pompous, presumptuous or silly, were often the target of Carlin's routines.

Carlin also gave special attention to prominent topics in American culture such as our obsession with fame and celebrities, consumerism, religion, corporate control and Big Brother-ism, hypocrisy, child raising, fast food , news stations, self-help publications, patriotism, sexual taboos, certain uses of technology and surveillance, and the pro-life position, among many others.

Carlin openly communicated in his shows and in his interviews that his purpose for existence was entertainment, that he was "here for the show". He professed a great sense of schadenfreude in watching humanity slowly self-destruct of its own design; saying, "When you're born, you get a ticket to the freak show. When you're born in America, you get a front-row seat."

A few people have remarked to me over the years that some of my humor and my writing was Carlin-esque, and I took it as a great compliment. In college, I took on as my case study in Constitutional Law, the case of FCC v. Pacifica Corporation, by where the Supreme Court handed down a landmark decision on “indecent” material as it applied to broadcasting. In 1973, a father complained to the FCC that his son had heard the “Seven Dirty Words” routine broadcast one afternoon over WBAI, a Pacifica Foundation FM radio station in New York City. Pacifica received a sanction from the FCC, in the form of a letter of reprimand, for allegedly violating FCC regulations which prohibited broadcasting "indecent" material. The U.S. Supreme Court upheld the FCC action in 1978, by a vote of 5 to 4, ruling that the routine was "indecent but not obscene". The Court accepted as compelling the government's interests in 1) shielding children from patently offensive material, and 2) ensuring that unwanted speech does not enter one's home. The Court stated that the FCC had the authority to prohibit such broadcasts during hours when children were likely to be among the audience, and gave the FCC broad leeway to determine what constituted indecency in different contexts.

I look at it this way: the radio has two knobs; one turns the station and the other turns it off. Be a proactive parent and keep your kid from listening, instead of letting the government babysit your kid. The original complainant, John Douglas, was driving in the car with his son and heard the broadcast and complained to the FCC because he was unhappy his son had heard it. If you found it offensive, dummy, why’d you keep listening? That’s like keeping your hand in boiling water after you feel pain, and then calling the government to say the water was hot instead of removing your hand. However, my feelings about the FCC and censorship are for another day. Back to Carlin.

George Carlin wrote five books, had 14 specials on HBO, did 16 movies, released 23 albums, and won four Grammy Awards. He was the first-ever host of Saturday Night Live, appeared on The Tonight Show 130 times. He even played Mr. Conductor and narrated for several years on the American version of the children’s TV show “Shining Time Station”, and the companion show Thomas The Tank Engine and Friends”. A few days before his death, it was announced that he was to be this year’s recipient of the 11th annual Mark Twain Prize for American Humor from the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.

Goodbye, George. You’ll be missed dearly.