Текст книги "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops"

Автор книги: Джордж Карлин

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EARLY BOARDING: Children

If I may renew a theme found elsewhere in the book, I have a bit more to say about early boarding on the airlines. It’s not just favoritism to the “disabled” that bothers me; that’s unfair enough. But! Immediately after the various cripples, limpers and wheelchair jockeys have been unfairly allowed to board early, the airline then has the nerve to allow people with children to get on the plane. Once again, at the expense of the rest of us. I do not understand this policy at all.

Why should people board early simply because they have children? What’s so special about having kids? After all, a lot of kids are accidents; many people wind up with children simply because they’re unlucky. Is that something we should be rewarding? I don’t think being careless in bed should qualify someone for special treatment on an airplane.

And by the way, as with the devious methods of the cane-and-crutch crowd mentioned earlier, I think there are some couples who bring their kids along on a trip for the sole purpose of early boarding. What other reason would you have for including kids on a trip? Enjoyment? Hardly.

In factand this may seem extreme to someit’s my conviction that there are some couples who have intentionally gotten married and had families specifically for the purpose of getting on the plane early. I know it sounds unlikely to you, but don’t forget, these are cold, pragmatic, striving yuppie-boomers; unsentimental people who largely regard children as props and

commodities, anyway: “Honey, let’s have a kid, so we can board planes early.” “Great idea, Scott! You start making a list of good preschools, and I’ll get the lubricating jelly.” Believe me, it happens more than you may think.

So, during this preflight, pre-boarding fiasco, after the crippled and the maimed have been safely strapped in, the airline people tell us they will now “preboard passengers traveling with small children.” Well, that’s fine as far as it goes, but what about passengers traveling with large children? Suppose you have a six-month-old son with a growth-hormone disorder? One of those seven-foot infants with oversized heads that you see in the National Enquirer. Actually, with a kid like that I think you’re better off checking him in at the curb, don’t you? He’d probably enjoy it in the luggage compartment. It’s dark in there, and I would imagine he’s used to that.

But I digress. Forgive me for indulging my weakness for flights of colorful narration. Back to the real problem: people with children on airplanes. Here’s how you solve this. You make the following announcement:

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a pre-boarding announcement only. We would like to address those of you who, both today and in your lives generally, find yourselves burdened with needy and annoying children. We sympathize with you, but as long as you’ve decided to drag them along with you to Pittsburgh, we wish to minimize the inconvenience of their presence to the rest of us. Here is what is going to happen:

“First of all, you’re getting on lastif there’s room. Before that, we’re going to board the full-grown humans and allow them to settle in, get comfortable and have a drink or two. You may be standing out here for an hour or more. Then, you and your children will be swiftly escorted onto the aircraft and placed in a special, soundproof, walled-off area in the rear of the plane. There will be standing room only. For safety purposes, you will be tethered to one another and secured to the wall with leashes and straps.

“More than likely, there will not be any food left for you, but your children will be allowed to scavenge the trays of those passengers who did not finish their meals. Aside from that food service, you will be left alone and expected to keep the children quiet.

“And now, we ask that you please gather your precious creatures around you, and, when you hear the whistle, see to it that they move smartly and swiftly onto the plane, remaining quiet and avoiding any eye contact with grown-ups. Thank you for flying the friendly skies of Sensible Airlines.”

TRAFFIC ACCIDENTS NEVER HANG AROUND

I don’t often write about my own experiences; it’s not my style. But I had a recent incident in traffic that I’d like to tell you about. And before I begin, there are a couple of things you ought to know about me: I drive kind of recklessly, I take a lot of chances, I never maintain my vehicles and I don’t believe in traffic laws. And so, because of these practices, I tend to have what a picky person would probably refer to as a lot of traffic accidents.

And wouldn’t you know, last week I ran over a sheep.

Or, possibly, I ran over a small man wearing a sheepskin coat. I’m not sure, really, because I didn’t stop. That’s another rule of mine: I never stop when I have a traffic accident. Do you? No. You can’t. Who has time? Not me.

If I hit something, or I run somebody over, I keep moving! Especially if

I’ve injured someone. I refuse to involve myself in other people’s injuries. I’m not a doctor, I’ve had no medical training; I’m just another guy, out, driving around looking for a little fun. And I can’t be stopping for everything.

Listen, folks. Let’s be logical about it. If you stop at the scene of the accident, all you do is add to the confusion. These people you ran over have enough troubles of their own without you stopping and making things worse. Think about itthey’ve just been involved in a major traffic accident! The last thing they need is for you to stop, get out of your car, go over to the wreckage and start bothering them with stupid questions: “Are you hurt?”

Well, of course they’re hurt. Look at all the blood! You just hit them with a ton and a half of steelof course they’re hurt. Leave these people alone. Haven’t you done enough? For once in your life do the decent thingdon’t get involved.

Look at it this way, it’s none of your business in the first place; the whole thing took place outside of your car. Legally speaking, these people were not even on your property at the time you ran them over. They were standing in the street; that’s city property. You are not responsible! If they don’t like it, let em sue the mayor.

And besides, the whole thing is over now; it happened back there, behind you! For God’s sake, stop living in the past. Do yourself a favor, count your blessings, be glad it wasn’t you. As it is, there’s probably a substantial dent in your fender. So be satisfied, my friend, you got off easy.

And I’ll give you a truly practical reason not to stop. If you do stop, sooner or later the police are going to show up. Is that what you want? To waste even more of your time, standing around with a bunch of worthless civil servants, filling out forms, answering a lot of foolish questions . . . lying to the authorities?

And one more thing: Didn’t anyone else see this accident? Are you the only one who can provide information? Surely the people you ran over caught a glimpse of it at the last moment. So, let them tell the police what happened. They certainly had a better view of it than you did.

There’s just no sense in having two conflicting stories floating around about the same dumb-ass traffic accident. Things are bad enough: People are dead, families have been destroyed, it’s time to get moving! Chances are you’re late for dinner as it is.

EXCEPTION TO THE RULE

Now, folks. There are two sides to this. Helping people by leaving them alone when they’re injured is one thing, that’s my altruistic side; people need to be self-reliant, and I want to do what I can to foster that. But it’s often hard for me to drive away from a nice fiery accident scene, because I have a self-indulgent side, and that needs to be honored too.

And so, on the other hand, if I’m out driving, enjoying a lovely day, and I see a traffic accidentone I’m not involved inI stop immediately! I wanna get a good look at what’s going’ on. I enjoy that sort of thing. If people are injured, I wanna take a look! I am Curious George.

Of course, the police don’t like that. They say you’re rubbernecking and blockin’ traffic. I tell em, “Never mind that rubberneckin’ shit, I wanna take a look!” My philosophy: I’m never too busy that I can’t stop to enjoy someone else’s suffering. I’m looking for a little entertainment. To me, traffic accidents are one more form of entertainment.

You want to hear my dream accident? Two buses and a chicken truck get-tin’ hit by a circus train in front of a flea market. Entertainment! I’m lookin’ for an antique lamp stickin’ out of a clown’s ass. If I’m gonna take the time to stop, I expect a couple of fuckin’ laughs.

And if the traffic situation is such that I can’t quite see what’s going on can’t get a good enough lookI’m not the least bit shy about asking the police to bring the bodies over a little closer to the car.

“Pardon me, Officer. Would you fellows mind dragging that twisted-looking chap over here a little closer to the car? My wife has never seen anyone shaped quite like that. Look at that, Sugarlips! Those are his testicles hanging from the rearview mirror. Thank you, Officer, that will be all now, you can throw him back on the pile. We’ll be moving along.”

And off we go, out onto the highway looking for a little fun. Perhaps a flatbed truck loaded with human cadavers will explode in front of a Star Trek reunion. One can only dream and hope.

A CRY FOR HELP

Dear Friend:

Your name has been provided to us, because we have discovered that, in spite of America his recent economic problems, you may still have a few dollars tucked away that you are saving for a future financial emergency. Well, that emergency is here. We ‘re hoping you will be sympathetic to our effort and express it with your generosity.

Stated quite simply, we’re raising money to help the rich and powerful. These hard-driving people continue to require large amounts of money, and most of them are far too busy to attend to this sort of direct appeal for themselves. We are here to help.

The rich and powerful need your financial support in order to increase their wealth and power, so they can exercise even greater influence over na-

tional events, and, of course, over your lives. Remember, these people are small in number and, therefore, inadequately represented in our system of proportional government. They consequently lack influence and suffer the fate of many minorities, i.e., being ignored by the very government they have helped elect. It is for these reasons they have decided to band together to better present their ideas and especially to expand their influence with elected officials. But first they need your help. They need money.

In the first stage, your money is needed for basics: stationery, office supplies, postage, phones and rent (first month, last month, security deposit). The rich and powerful need to set up a headquarters so they can start really raising money in order to live properly. But once they reach that level that doesn ‘t mean your job is done. Not at all.

In fact, once things are running smoothly there’ll be a continuing and even greater need for more and more of your money in order to provide all of the expensive clothing, imported cars, fine jewelry, gourmet foods and exotic pets that these people require. That’s when your dollars will really count, helping provide the lifestyle to which the rich and powerful are not only accustomed but entitled.

In addition to these considerable personal expenses, there will, of course, be a need for large amounts of money to persuade and influence the many politicians and government officials who, after all, have financial obligations of their own. Most of these dedicated public servants are underpaid and must find ways of supplementing their income without taking time off from work. Your money, fwineled through the rich and powerful, can go a long way toward solving their financial problems. And you will have the satisfaction of knowing you have helped advance the selfless agenda the rich and powerful have laid out in their effort to improve our country.

Can we count on you? Will you help? Will you give yourself the opportunity to say you helped the rich and powerful when they really needed it? Do it now. Do it for yourself and for your children. Sit down and write out a check for a substantial amount, maybe even more than you can afford. Make it payable to The Fund for the Rich and Powerful. You’ll take satisfaction knowing you have done your part. And you ‘II be secure in the knowledge that whenever you have a problem, the rich and powerful will always be there to help.

Sincerely,

Esterbrook Winslow Somewhere Offshore

P.S. Your canceled check is your receipt.

BOB CALLING

Bob dials a number. DON: Hello?

BOB: Hi, is this Don? DON: Yes.

BOB: Hi, Don, this is Bob. DON: Oh. Hi, Bob.

BOB: Hi. Well, I guess I’ll let you go now. Bye. DON: Okay. Bye. Bob dials again. CARL: Hello? BOB: Hi, is this Carl? CARL: Yes. BOB: This is Bob. CARL: Oh. Hi, Bob.

BOB: Hi. Well, you’re probably a busy guy. I’ll let you go. Bye. CARL: Bye. Bob dials again. TOM: Hello? BOB: Hello, Tom? TOM: Yes. Who’s this?

BOB: Bob.

TOM: Hi, Bob. What’s going’ on? BOB: Not much, how about you? TOM: Same old same old.

BOB: Great. Well, I gotta go. I’ve got a bunch of calls to make. TOM: Okay. Bye.

Bob opens his phone book and makes a list of more people he wants to bond with. His phone rings.

BOB: Hello?

VOICE: Hi, is this Bob?

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

BOB: Yes.

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

VOICE: This is Steve.

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

BOB: Oh, hi, Steve. How are you?

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

STEVE: Well, that’s the reason I’m calling.

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

BOB: Oh?

STEVE: Yes. I’m doing fine. So I thought I’d let you know that and maybe save you a call.

BOB: Well, that’s mighty thoughtful of you. Thanks. STEVE: That’s okay. Well, that’s it. I guess we’ll talk tomorrow. BOB: You got a deal. Bye. STEVE: Bye.

Bob scratches Steve’s name from his list of calls and reaches for the receiver. So much still to do.

Remember, kids, Mr. Policeman is your friend. Always cooperate with him. Mr. Policeman wants to help you, so you must help Mr. Policeman. Don’t forget, if you refuse to cooperate, Mr. Policeman will beat you to death. Especially if you’re not white.

I’m not a person who thinks he can have it all, but I certainly feel that with a bit of effort and guile I should be able to have more than my fair share.

You know what would be fun? To have a set of twins, name them Dumbo and Goofy and then just sit back and see how their personalities develop. I’ll bet they’d really enjoy going to school every day.

I’d like to point out that during the twentieth century, white, Godfearing, predominately Christian Europe produced Lenin, Stalin, Franco, Hitler and Mussolini.

Next time you’re in an elevator, blow your nose real loud into your bare hands and then ask if anyone has a Kleenex. Or blow your nose into a Kleenex, open it up and stare at the stuff and say, “Wow! Look at this. It’s all green and yellow.” Then show it to the other people. I guarantee you won’t pass many floors before you have the elevator all to yourself.

I’ve never seen a homeless guy with a bottle of Gatorade.

One great thing about getting old is that you can get out of all kinds of social obligations simply by saying you’re too tired.

You know who you have to admire? A Catholic hit man who blesses himself just before he strangles someone.

I’ve noticed that a Jew will sometimes use a little paper clip to hold on his yarmulke. Shouldn’t that be God’s responsibility? I mean, you did your part, you put the thing on. Shouldn’t it be God’s job to keep it there? Or why don’t Jews just wear larger yarmulkes that grip the head better? Maybe with an elastic strap that could go under the chin. By the way, I know a hip-hop Jew who wears his yarmulke backward. It’s hard to detect, but I think it looks great.

Suppose you tried to fuck a woman who had ten personalities, and nine of them said okay, but one of them resisted and tried to fight you off. Would that still be a rape?

“Where do we go from here?” “Who says we’re here?”

Because of mad cow disease, they’re now going to leave certain cow parts out of hamburger meat, including the skull. Well, I don’t know about you folks, but I can’t imagine enjoying a hamburger that doesn’t have at least a hint of cow skull in it.

I was looking in the mirror the other day and I realized I haven’t changed much since I was in my twenties. The only difference is I look a whole lot older now.

Here’s a safety tip from the Fire Department: Kitchen-grease fires can be quickly and safely extinguished by dousing them with a mixture of benzine and lighter fluid. Apply quickly and stand clear.

TRUE FACT: More children in the United States are molested each year than wear braces.

I’d like to know the suicide rate among people who call in to radio psychologists and actually follow the advice they get.

I have no regrets in life. Although I am kind of sorry I never got to beat a man to death while wearing a tuxedo.

There’s a message window that comes up on my computer screen whenever I type in a command the computer doesn’t like. It says, “Fuck you, I don’t do that.”

When people use the phrase call it quits, why do they use the plural? It would make more sense to say, “I’m going to call it quit.”

I recently witnessed something I’ll never forget: an eclipse of the earth. But because it was an eclipse of the earth, there was no place to look. So I looked at the earth. And as I did, the earth got very dark. But the period of darkness was brief because of how close we are to the earth. Remem-

her, kids, never look directly at an eclipse, always get someone else to tell you about it.

The National Rifle Association reminds its members: Never fire a gun at your own body. Unless you’re trying to seriously injure yourself.

As a part of those displays that honor rock stars in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, I think they should show the amount of money each artist spent on drugs, year by year. Also, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to list which drugs the artists were taking while recording particular songs and albums. Just so wed all know.

TRUE FACT: In 1733, the Russian army had a treatment for soldiers who suffered severe homesickness. At the first sign of the condition, they buried the soldier alive. That’s good. I like people who go right to the heart of a problem.

Do you have any perfectly good possessions you don’t need? Send them to 111 Will Industries, where our completely healthy and able-bodied employees earn money by breaking things and rendering them useless. Call 111 Will. Help those who are already doing fine.

I’m in favor of anything that destabilizes the republic.

Regarding the Menendez brothers, my opinion is that you can rarely get two kids to agree to kill their parents unless the parents really deserve it.

TRUE FACT: Purina now has a cat food made especially for cats who live indoors. “Indoor cat food for indoor cats.” Meanwhile, I’m sure you’re aware that some human beings have no food at all.

The worst thing about e-mail is that you can’t interrupt the other person. You have to read the whole thing and then e-mail them back, pointing out all their mistakes and faulty assumptions. It’s frustrating and it’s time-consuming. God bless phone calls.

I can’t understand a grown man whose nickname is Fuzzy and who actually allows people to call him that. Do these guys really introduce themselves that way? “Hi, I’m Fuzzy.’ If some guy said that to me, I would say to him, “Well, you don’t look very fuzzy to me.”

If you vote once, you’re considered a good citizen. If you vote twice, you face four years in jail.

In this country, alcohol is hardly ever seen as a drug problem. Instead, we think of it as more of a driving problem.

Life is simple: Your happiness will be based completely on luck and genetics. Everything comes down to luck and genetics. And when you think about it, even your genetics is luck.

Seems as though I never get to do the fox-trot anymore.

What’s going on with these people who tell you to “have a safe trip’? I would never tell a person that. Because if they died it would feel really creepy.

If I had been in charge of reorganizing the government’s security agencies into a homeland defense organization, I would have divided the responsibilities into two agencies: The Bureau of What the Fuck Was That? and The Department of What the Fuck Are We Gonna Do Now?

READ ONLY

Don’t you get tired of this simpleminded Laura Bush nonsense about children reading, or reading to children, or teaching children to read, or reading to children about teaching, or whatever the fuck it is? What is it with these Bush women? His motherthe big silver douche bagwas into the same sort of nonsense. These women should not be encouraging children to read, they should be encouraging children to question what they read. Content is far more important than the mere act of sitting with your mother and dragging your eyes across text. By the way, I noticed that, apparently, the idea of teaching children to read didn’t work when Barbara tried it on George.