The Day the Laughter Died

Well, it died on Sunday, but it wasn't my turn at the blog til today, I'm talking about George Carlin, if you're wondering.

Also, if you're wondering just what a quirky, irreverent comic has to do with a blog featuring, paranormal and fantasy authors, well, in a roundabout fashion, a lot. For this author anyway.

I can still remember staying up late and watching him with the sound turned down so my mama wouldn't hear those infamous 7 words you can't say on television. And snickering about them, then, listening when he kept talking.

Carlin, was in a word--irreverent. He talked about everything from the mundane to the sacred, and he talked about in the same disrepectful, but profanely funny way that had me a good southern girl gaping, then letting out shocked laughter. Because, of course, everything he said was right. Slyly, his humor slid into my daily life. People would say stupid things and I'd hear his voice, spewing that blatant disregard for the Great and Powerful Machine of Established Religion (and of course, politics). Soon he had me questioning everything about race, religion, and politics; and I came up with answers that didn't fit in with those around me.

His brand of humor was more than a breath of fresh air in my narrow existence; it was an anti-establishment tempest that blew me so far left, I was never really 'right' again. Because of his 7 dirty words and what they really represented, I learned to make my own decisions. I know that it's not the answers I find that matter, not really. It's that I uses my brain and asked the questions in the first place. That's what's important.


Thanks for those dirty words,George,

Jenna