Текст книги "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops"

Автор книги: Джордж Карлин

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“The whole thing was a miscommunication.”

“But what about the tapes?”

“They took them out of context. They twisted my words. “Nice touch. A person who routinely spends his time bending and torturing the English language telling us that someone has twisted his words.

But as the problem gets worse, and his troubles increase, he’s forced to take his explanation in a new direction. He now tells us that “The whole thing has been blown out of proportion.” And by the way, have you noticed with these blown-out-of-proportion people that it’s always “the whole thing”? Apparently, no one has ever claimed that a only a small part of something has been blown out of proportion.

But as time passes and the evidence continues to accumulate, our hero suddenly changes direction and begins using public-relations jujitsu. He says, “We’re trying to get to the bottom of this. “We. Suddenly, he’s on the side of the

law. “We’re trying to get to the bottom of this, so we can get the facts out to the American people.” Nice. The American people. Always try to throw them in; it makes it sound as if you actually care.

As the stakes continue to rise, our hero now makes a subtle shift and says, “I’m willing to trust in the fairness of the American people. “Clearly, he’s trying to tell us something: that there may just be a little fire causing all the smoke. But notice he’s still at the I-have-nothing-to-hide stage.

But then, slowly, “I’m willing to trust in the fairness of the American people” progresses to “There is no credible evidence,” and before long, we’re hearing the very telling, “No one has proven a thing. “

Now, if things are on track in this drama, and the standard linguistic path of the guilty is being followed faithfully, “No one has proven a thing” will precede the stage when our hero begins to employ that particularly annoying technique: Ask-yourselfquestionsandthenanswer-them:

“Did I show poor judgment? Yes. Was there inappropriate behavior? Yes. Do I wish this never happened? Of course. But did I break the law? That’s not the issue.”

The calendar is marching, however, and it soon becomes clear that our friend is most likely quite guilty, indeed. We know this, because he now shifts into that sublime use of the passive voice: mistakes were made. The beauty of mistakes were made is that it doesn’t really identify who made them. You’re invited to think what you wish. Bad advice? Poor staff work? Voodoo curse?

But it’s too late. Mistakes were made quickly becomes eventually I will be exonerated, which then morphs into 1 have faith in the American judicial system, and the progression ends with that plaintive cry, whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty; well, he’s about to find out.

Eventually, in full retreat (and federal custody), he shuffles off in his attractive orange jumpsuit, and can be heard muttering that most modern of

mea culpas: “Ijust want to put this thing behind me and get on with my life. “And to emphasize how sincere he is, he announces, “I’m taking responsibility for my actions.” How novel! Imagine; taking responsibility. He says it as though it were a recently developed technique.

Whenever I hear that sort of thing on the news, I always want to ask one of these I’m-taking-responsibility-for-my-actions people whether or not they’d be willing to take responsibility for my actions. You know, gambling debts, paternity suits, outstanding warrants. Can you help me out here, pal?

Regarding this whole put-this-thing-behind-me idea in general, here’s what I’d like to do. I’d like to put this I-wanttoputthisthingbehindmeandgetonwithmy-life thing behind me and get on with my life. May I repeat that for you? I’d like to put this I-wanttoputthisthingbehindmeandgetonwithmy-life thing behind me and get on with my life.

I think one of the problems in this country is that too many people are screwing things up, committing crimes and then getting on with their lives. What is really needed for public officials who shame themselves is ritual suicide. Hara-kiri. Like those Japanese business executives who mismanage corporations into bankruptcy. Never mind the lawyers and the public relations and the press conferences, get that big knife out of the kitchen drawer and do the right thing.

POLITICIAN TALK #3: Senator Patriot Speaks

To take up a thread from an earlier section of this politico-lingo trilogy, we noted at the time the fact that most politicians operate under the delusion that what they’re is doing is serving the nation. Of course, if they really feel this way, they’re more than simply misinformed, they’re obviously not playing with a full bag of jacks.

So, citizens; a question. Do you think it’s at all possible that these politicians whose judgment is so faulty that they actually believe they’re serving the nation might be expected to indulge occasionally in some, oh, I don’t know, exaggerated patriotism? Hah? Whaddya think? Maybe? Hah?

Well, fans, it’s not just possible, it’s downright inevitable. And should they be so indulging themselves on the Fourth of July, you’ll want to be sure to have hip boots and shovels handy, because brown stuff is going to be piling up at an alarming rate. And I suggest you shovel fast, because your elected heroes will be squeezing every last ounce of counterfeit patriotism out of their blood-starved brains.

And so, as you see them rushing madly across the landscape, pushing all the buttons marked red, white and blue, be on the alert for phrases such as Old Glory; Main Street; the stars and stripes; the heartland; all across this great land of ours; from Maine to California; and, of course, on American soil. And don’t forget all those freedom-loving people around the world who look to us as a beacon of hope. Those, I assume, would be the ones we haven’t bombed lately. And you’d also better be ready to be reminded, over and over, that you live in a country that somehow fancies itself leader of the free world. Got that? Leader of the free world. I don’t know when we’re going to retire that stupid shit, but personally, I’ve heard it quite long enough.

And what exactly is the free world, anyway? I guess it would depend on what you consider the non-free world. And I can’t find a clear definition of that, can you? Where is that? Russia? China? For chrissakes, Russia has a better Mafia than we do now, and China is pirating Lion King DVDs and selling dildos on the Internet. They sound pretty free to me.

Here are some more jingoistic variations you need to be on the lookout for: The greatest nation on Earth; the greatest nation in the history of the world; and the most powerful nation on the face of the Earth. That last one is usually thrown ?in just before we bomb a bunch of brown people. Which is every couple of years. And bombing brings me to the language used by politicians when referring to our armed forces.

Now, normally, during peacetime, politicians will refer to members of the military as our young men and women around the world. But since we’re so rarely at peace for more than six months at a time, during wars Senator Patriot and his colleagues are fully prepared to raise the stakes. (Don’t you just love that word, colleagues? It makes them sound so … I don’t know, legitimate.) And so it is, that in times of combat, our young men and women around the world quickly become our brave young fighting men and women stationed halfway around the world in places whose names they can’t pronounce. And for added emotional impact, they may also mention that these military folks spend a lot of time wondering if they’ll ever see their loved ones again. That one gets people right in the belly button. And should the speaker be going for maximum emotional effect, he will deliver the above passage, substituting sons and daughters for men and women.

And isn’t that reference “places whose names they can t pronounce” a lovely little piece of subtle racism? That’s an ail-American, red-meat bonus they throw in for you.

Here’s another way politicians express their racist geographic chauvinism: young men and women stationed in places the average American can’t find on a map. I’ve always thought it was amusingand a bit out of characterfor a politician to go out of his way to point out the limited amount of intelligence possessed by the American people. Especially since his job security depends on that very same limitation. It would also appear to contradict that other well-traveled and inaccurate standby: The American people are a lot smarter than they’re given credit for.

Amazingly, politicians have mastered the art of uttering those words with

a perfectly straight face, even though the proposition is stated precisely backward. Judging from the results of focus groups, polls and election returns that I’ve seen, and watching the advertising directed at Americans, I’d say the American people are a lot dumber than they’re given credit for. As one example, just look at the individuals they keep sending to their statehouses and to Washington to represent them. Look also at what they’ve done to their once-beautiful country and its landscape.

Wrapping up this modest review of patriotic political language, I think it’s safe to conclude that the degree of a politician’s insincerity can best be measured by how far around the world our soldiers are, and whether or not any of them is able to pronounce the name of the place. And whether or not their neighbors back home can find it on a map.

ZERO TOLERANCE

I get weary of this zero tolerance bullshit. It’s annoying. To begin with, it’s a fascist concept; it’s what Hitler and Stalin practiced. It allows for no exceptions or compassion of any kind. All is black and whiteno gradations. But even more important, it doesn’t solve anything. The use of such a slogan simply allows whichever company, school or municipality is using it to claim they’re doing something about a problem when, in fact, nothing is being done at all and the problem is being ignored. It’s a cosmetic non-solution designed to impress simpletons. Whenever you hear the phrase zero tolerance, remember, someone is bullshitting you.

Dempsey’s Department Store: Drop In Today

Shoppers! For a limited time only, Dempsey’s Department Store is offering a complete line of cheap crap at extremely high prices. Come in today and be treated rudely by our poorly trained clerks. Remember, at Dempsey’s we’re not just talking about the high cost of living, we’re doing something about it: We re raising our prices.

ENJOY A PLEASANT DIURNAL EXPERIENCE

I’m not sure you’ve noticed it, but I’m always trying to improve society. And in my relentless pursuit, I feel the time may finally have arrived for me to address “Have a nice day.” I think we can agree it has gotten completely out of hand.

Just to give you some background on my long-standing interest in this subject, when I was a young man we didn t have “Have a nice day.’ It isn’t that we didn’t have nice days, of courseoffhand I can remember several, most of them in 1949but somehow, we had them without any prompting. No coaching was necessary. The nice days just sort of happened. Perhaps at that time the days were simply nicer, and we took them for granted. It could be that today’s days leave much to be desired and actually need a little help. But if that’s true, I’m not convinced that “Have a nice day” is the best solution.

And so, in my ongoing effort to elevate human experience, I think I have come up with an improved version of “Have a nice day.” It’s an alternative system of well-wishing, and frankly, something I hope will become the next big trend.

But before I tell you about it, it’s important to remind you that there is a

limiting factor at work here: Most people have very little control over what sort of day they’re going to have. For instance, when one person says, “Have a nice day,” the other may well be thinking, “I’ve just been diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, and I’m also coughing up thick black stuff.” In this case the well-wisher’s words will fall on deaf ears.

And so, I feel that perhaps, in the interest of realism, instead of being directed arbitrarily to have a nice day, people should simply be encouraged to do the best they can.

It is also probably unrealistic to expect someone to have a nice day all day long. How often does that happen? The day is simply too long and comprises too many parts. One’s day may start off well enough, but quite often the niceness is difficult to sustain over an extended period of time.

And so, instead of the now standard, and far too general, “Have a nice day,” I have devised a new, more specific system of selective, short-term well-wishing that puts much less pressure on the recipient. In my system, the time of day a person offers good wishes determines what should be said.

As an example, under my method, if I run into an acquaintance at 9 A.M., I’m likely to say, “Have a satisfying midmorning.” I believe in getting someone off to a good start, and it’s a modest enough goal to suggest at such an early hour. Had the encounter taken place a bit earlier, I may have been inclined to offer a simple, yet cheerful, “Here’s wishing you a refreshing post-sleep phase.”

And, turning the clock back even further, if the two of us had been out late and parted at three in the morning, I’m sure I would have told him to “Have yourself a stimulating pre-dawn.” As you can see, I’m fully prepared for any time of day.

Twelve noon, you ask? “May your midday be crammed with unfettered joy and myriad delights.” Two in the afternoon? “I hope you experience a rewarding post-lunch.’

Likewise as the day draws to a close. Can you guess what I tell a person at five-thirty in the afternoon? “Enjoy your sundown.’ It’s short, it’s pleasant, it doesn’t demand a lot. Here’s one for the same time of day which I reserve for more serious-minded friends : “Have a profound dusk.” I like it. I feel it shows a certain respect for the other fellow’s depth of soul. Orand this is a particular favorite of mine”Have a challenging twilight.” I enjoy giving the other person something to struggle with just as happy hour is getting under way.

By the way, I have a playful side as well. If my friend is a Scottish person I may say, “Have a bonnie gloaming.” But not too often; I don’t like to show off my command of foreign languages.

Well, folks, I hope you’ve enjoyed this little explanation of my new system, but more important, I hope you’ll put it to work in your daily lives. And so now, dear reader, as we prepare to take our leave, you may be tempted to think I’ll be hard-pressed to offer a parting wish that hasn’t already been suggested. Don’t underestimate me.

You see, I’m not limited to the short form. Occasionally, in an expansive mood, I get carried away and my rhetoric becomes ornate. And so, as we part, let me state that I hope you have a memorable tomorrow, including, but not limited to, the promising, golden hours of morning, the full, rich bloom of afternoon, and, of course, the quiet, gentle hours of evening, when time, pausing for an instant and breathing a small sigh, rushes forward to greet the newly forming day.

I hope you appreciate the extra effort.

LET’S KILL A TREE FOR THE KIDS

Regarding public Christmas displays: At some point, someone who worked at Rockefeller Center must have said, “Boys, I have a great idea for Christmas. Let’s kill a beautiful tree that’s been alive for seventy-five years and bring it to New York City. We’ll stand it up in Rockefeller Plaza and conceal its natural beauty by hanging shiny, repulsive, man-made objects on it, and let it stand there slowly dying for several weeks while simpleminded children stare at it and people from Des Moines take pictures of it. That way, perhaps we can add our own special, obscene imprint to Christmas in Midtown.”

A SORE POINT

Regarding the criticism of Al Gore’s actions upon being elected president in 2000 and realizing that the Bush family would do everything in its power to reverse the results illegally: I recall at the time hearing some of the usual morons in this country refer to President-elect Gore as a sore loser because he sought legal redress in the courts.

Sore loser? You bet your fuckin’ ass! What on earth is wrong with being a sore loser? It shows you cared about whatever the contest was in the first place. Fuck losing graciouslythat’s for chumps. And losers, by the way.

Americans have just flat-out lost their spirit; you see it everywhere. Have you ever watched these hockey assholes? When the game is over, they’re forced to line up and shake hands with one another after spending three hours smashing each other in the mouth with sticks. Biggest load of shit I ever witnessed. Whatever happened to “In victory, magnanimity; in defeat, defiance.” So said Frederick the Great.

EUPHEMISMS: Write If You Get Work MARX MY WORDS

These days, people who have jobs are called members of the workforce. But I can’t help thinking the Russian Revolution would have been a lot less fun if the Communists had been running through the streets yelling, “Members of the workforces of the world, unite!”

And I’m sure Marx and Lenin would not be pleased to know that, today, employees who refuse to work no longer go out on strikes. They engage in job actions that result in work stoppages. And if a work stoppage lasts long enough, the company doesn’t hire scabs, it brings in replacement workers.

READY, AIM, NONRETAIN!

When it comes to firing people, companies try desperately to depersonalize the process so that no human being is ever seen to fire another. The language is extremely neutral, and whatever blame there is goes to something called global market forces. Fuckin’ foreigners!

And these companies go through some truly exotic verbal gymnastics to describe what’s taking placealthough I’m not sure it makes the individuals in question feel any better. After all, being fired, released or terminatedwould seem a lot easier to accept than being non-retained, dehired or selected out.

Nor would I be thrilled to be told that, because the company was downsizing, rightsizing or scaling down, I was part of an involuntary force-reduction. I really don’t care that my company is reshaping and streamlining, and that, in order to manage staff resources, a focused reduction is taking place, and I’m one of the workers being transitioned out. Just fire me, please!

I read somewhere that apparently one company’s senior management didn’t understand the fuss about this issue. After all, they said, all they were

doing was eliminating the company’s employment security policy by engaging in a deselection process in order to reduce duplication.

P.S. By the way, when those deselected people begin to look for new jobs, they won’t have to be bothered reading the want ads. Those listings are now called employment opportunities. Makes you feel a lot better, doesn’t it?

EUPHEMISMS:

What Do You Do for a Living?

American companies now put a great deal of effort into boosting their employees’ self-esteem by handing out inflated job titles. Most likely, they think it also helps compensate for the longer hours, unpaid overtime and stagnant wages that have become standard. It doesn’t.

However, such titles do allow an ordinary store clerk to tell some girl he’s picking up at a bar that he’s a product specialist. Or a retail consultant. If it turns out she’s a store clerk, too, but her store uses different euphemisms, then she may be able to inform him that she’s a sales counsellor. Or a customer service associate. And, for a while there, they’re under the impression that they actually have different jobs.

These are real job titles, currently in use to describe employees whose work essentially consists of telling customers, “We’re all out of medium.” Nothing wrong with that, but it’s called store clerk, not retail consultant, and not customer service associate. Apparently, stores feel they can charge more for merchandise sold by a customer service associate than they can for the same junk sold by a clerk. By the way, if a clerk should be unhappy with his title, he can always move to a different store, where he may have a chance of being called a product service representative, a sales representative or a sales associate.

And I hope you took note of that word, associate. That’s a hot word with companies now. I saw a fast-food employee mopping the floor at an In-N-Out Burger andI swear this is truehis name tag said “associate.” Okay? It’s the truth. Apparently, instead of money, they now give out these bogus titles.

At another fast-food place, Au Bon Pain, I noticed the cashiers name tag said hospitality representative. The cashier. The name tag was pinned to her uniform. The people who sell these uniforms now refer to them as career apparel Oreven worseteam wear. I had to sit down when I heard that. Team wear.

Teams are also big in business; almost as big as associates. In Los Angeles his KooKooRoo restaurants the employee name tags say “team member.” At a Whole Foods supermarket, I talked to the head of the meat department about ordering a special item; I figured he was the head butcher. But his name tag identified him as the meat team leader. Throw that on your resume. I guess the people under him would have been meat team associates. I didn’t stick around to ask.

So it’s all about employee morale. And in a lot of companies, as part of morale-building, the employees are called staff. But it’s all right, because most customers are now called clients. With those designations, I guess the companies can pay the staff less and charge the clients more.

I’m not sure when all this job-title inflation began, but it’s been building for a while. At some point in the past thirty years secretaries became personal assistants or executive assistants. Many of them now consider those terms too common, so they call themselves administrative aides.

Everyone wants to sound more important these days:

Teachers became educators, drummers became percussionists.

movie directors became filmmakers,

company presidents became chief executive officers,

family doctors became primary-care providers,

manicurists became nail technicians,

magazine photographers became photojournalists,

weightlifters became bodybuilders

and bounty hunters now prefer to be called recovery agents

And speaking of lifting, those retail-store security people who keep an eye on shoplifters are known as loss-prevention managers. Still more to come. Later.

Schmuek School: Call Now!

Why not be a schmuek? A licensed, practicing schmuek. Or, if you qualify, a GPS, a certified public schmuek. It may not seem like it when you look around, but there’s actually a shortage of schmucks in America. As a result, there’s big money in schmucking. The average schmuek earns $28,000 a year, plus benefits. And there are openings for schmucks in every field: The government is run by schmucks; big business is run by schmucks; and the retail field is crawling with shmucks. And, more and more, people are becoming independent, freelance schmucks on their own. Call the Schmuek Technical Institute today and get our free booklet, Hey Putz, Be a Schmuek! Most people only manage to be schmucks at parties, but here’s your chance to become a full-time, year-round schmuek. Give us a call. Don’t be a schmuek, be a schmuek.

IN THE FUTURE:

The human life span will be extended to 200 years, but the last 150 will be spent in unremitting pain and sadness.

No one will take drugs, but people will still buy them and conceal them from the police.

Children will be required to attend school only when something comes up in conversation they do not understand.

All people will speak the same language, but no one will speak it well.

Science will develop exotic flowers capable of producing music. Most of these plants will be exploited by record companies.

All farming will cease and the land will be used for loitering.

Although people will not keep pets of any kind, someone will still occa sionally step in dogshit.

A race of people living in the center of the Earth will be discovered when one of them comes out to buy a sunlamp.

Miners will exploit the ocean floor, and, when trapped in a mine, the wives who gather to wait at the entrance will be forced to tread water.

A team of astronauts will attempt to harness a comet and never be seen again.

The human body will develop fins and gills, and beach property will increase tenfold in value.

Man will learn to control the weather with a large hammer.

A time machine will be built, but no one will have time to use it.

At birth, religions will charge people an initial fee of $50,000 and then pretty much leave them alone.

All the knowledge in the world will be contained on a single, tiny silicon chip which someone will misplace.

People will be born with just enough money to last until they get seriously ill.

The speed of the Earth’s rotation will increase and everyone less than five feet tall will be flung off into space, including Paul Anka.

The sun’s light will diminish until it is the equivalent of a forty-watt bulb, and people with highly developed squinting skills will have a survival advantage.

Every part of the human body will become replaceable, but all parts will be back-ordered six months.

A Utopian society ruled by women will emerge, and there will be peace and plenty for all. However, many men will still act like macho assholes.

People will change clothes every six minutes but still never be quite happy with their appearance.

Cities will be built under huge glass domes which, in time, will be completely covered by graffiti.

Chickens will operate on gasoline and, surprisingly, many of them will get good mileage.

Genetic scientists will develop vegetables too big to be transported and they will have to be eaten right at the farm.

The insane will no longer be housed in asylums; instead, they will be displayed in department store windows.

The oceans will dry up, and people will find things they dropped in the toilet many years ago.

There will be no doctors or medicines of any kind and everyone will be really sick.

Eventually, it will no longer be necessary to forecast the future, because time will disappear and everything will happen at once.

DIG THIS!

Whenever we go into some country we’ve bombed, burned and occupied, we always find mass graves full of dead people who were killed by the deposed dictator before we got there. And everybody in the United States acts like they’re real surprised and disgusted. But when you think about it, what’s a guy supposed to do with all those bodies after he’s killed a couple of thousand people? Dig a separate hole for each one? Put up little markers with their names on them? Get real, for chrissakes. The whole idea of killing a couple of thousand people all at once, in one place, is to save time. Besides, all the United States ever does is complain a little, take a picture and then leave. So what’s the fuckin’ difference?

FALL DOWN, GO BOOM!

You know what I find interesting? Land mines. Here are a few great statistics. Listen to this:

There are 340 different types of land mines made by a hundred different companies. Every daythat’s every dayroughly six thousand fresh mines are placed in the ground. Right now, there are 110 million land mines in seventy-two countries; and every twenty-two minutes, one of them explodes. Seventy-five mines explode every day, and each month seven hundred people are maimed or killed. That’s twenty-six thousand people a year. Don’t you find that interesting?

Mines cost only three dollars to make and to put in the ground. But they cost a hundred dollars to disarm and remove. If you tried to remove them all, it would cost $33 billion and it would take eleven hundred years. They cost

three dollars apiece, and they last indefinitely. Wouldn’t it be nice if other products could make that claim?

Here’s another funny statistic: In Cambodia, one out of every 236 civilians is missing a limb or an eye from an exploded land mine. Cambodia now has thirty thousand people with at least one missing limb. And they still have 4 million mines in the ground.

It makes you wonder whether or not some unlucky, one-legged Cambodian guy has ever stepped on a land mine with his good leg. I’ll bet it’s happened. I’ll bet anything there’s some guy in Cambodia who has hit the lottery twice.

I tried to think of what would be the most entertaining way of setting off a land mine, and I decided it would be to land on one while doing a cartwheel. Wouldn’t that be weird to see? Makes you wonder if the high-school cheer-leading squads in Cambodia keep mine detectors handy.

These are the kinds of thoughts I have when I’m sitting home alone and things are slow.

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WHO KNOWS?

A: “I don’t know. Or at least I don’t know if I know. And I don’t even know if I care to know if I know.”

B: “I don’t know what you mean.”

A: “You know, I mean I don’t know what I mean. You know what I mean?”

B: “What do you mean you don’t know what you mean? I don’t know what you mean.”

A: “I mean, you know, I don’t know.” B: “You don’t know? You mean that?” A: “I don’t know.”

A CONTINUING NEWS STORY ALL IN ONE PLACE

Chicago, May 1: Police announced today they have found evidence of a murder-dismemberment. In a North Side Dumpster, they have found a right arm, a left leg and the eyebrows of an adult white male. Police say the eyebrows are bushy and had recently been plucked. According to spokesmen, the search for additional body parts will continue.