Alas, another American icon of my youth is gone. It seems lately that the people and things that I grew up with are moving out of this world. Sometimes I speak about what I write to these “older folk” and they say, “Oh, they’ve been talking about that for years” or “forget about it, things will never change.” Now, they are just too set in their ways to accept change. Not, George Carlin.
George Carlin started out entertaining the parents of the generation he came to represent but he didn’t stop with them either. His comedy broke so much new ground that by the end, he really could be funny without reservation; the crux of his matter had become part of the vernacular; the taboos that he wrestled with a distant memory to the new breed. And as these new comics continued on breaking new barriers, albeit some using too much vulgarity without originality, George Carlin stayed as sharp and as witty as ever. For this, we are very grateful.
71 is way too young to die these days. I’m sure he's out there right now thinking, “Why the #^%* did I have to die before they gave me the #^%*ing medal? At least, I would like to think so.
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