Monthly Archives: June 2008

From There to Where? How Far We've Come.

The INT ran a fascinating story on the end of tradition in Albania last week. The article begins:

Pashe Keqi recalls the day nearly sixty years ago when she decided to become a man. She chopped off her long black curls, traded in her dress for her father’s baggy trousers, armed herself with a hunting rifle and vowed to forsake marriage, children and sex.

Women in Albania have long had the option to hold power traditionally reserved for the family patriarchs. The catch is, they’d have to abdicate their femininity, a la Keqi.
Once considered the only way a woman could be strong, by pretending to be a man, it’s now considered outdated and unnecessary, and women, for the first time ever, are making serious strides in a very old-world country. The longstanding opinion of women is stated succinctly here:

Under the Kanun [a code of conduct that has been passed on orally among the clans of northern Albania for more than five centuries], the role of women is severely circumscribed: Take care of children and maintain the home. While a woman’s life is worth half that of a man, a virgin’s value is the same – 12 oxen.

But things are changing, and quickly. There’s no longer the belief that a man or pseudo-man must be around the homefront to keep worlds righted and working. It’s now understood women can handle it all, too.

________________

There’s a lot of rah-rah “sisters are doin’ it” cheerleading going on on the stump in America today, with Obama trumpeting Hillary’s gender-bending run for the presidential nominee as the two engulf headlines with their show of unity in Unity and the their travelling love-in.

And I think it’s easy to get a little cynical and just dismiss it all as politics as usual when someone like Obama lauds Clinton by saying not only can women do it better, but “do it in heels…” But it’s important for us to really dust that cynicism off, especially for those of us under 35 who’ve never really seen how damaging sexism once was.
This is no time for that cynicism, though. For a little while we deserve to be proud, too. This is a great time to be alive. It really is. There’s a lot of hope for the future, with all these walls coming tumbling down these days. Black folks running for the highest office in the land, beating a woman for the job. It’s a wild time.
When you look at the sacrifices made by those who’ve gone before us, like the women in Albania who’ve opted for a life of virginity and pretending to be a man so they might adopt control of their families, or those who’ve been skewered in the public for saying a woman can do a better job than a man, like Hillary did, it’s been a long fucking road.
Girls today maybe don’t even realize that most of us females have had the right to vote for less than a hundred years. We had to fight for the right to have a say.
Women today maybe still don’t realize that most women never worked a job until this century, and pay still isn’t equal for equal roles, most of the time.
But, wow, have we come a long ways, baby. I get a little dejected sometimes when I see the Paris and Britney wanna-bes coming up in the ranks, but then I see the new generation of women who can’t stand their P/B contemporaries, who are smart, sexy, driven, resourceful, and promising.
It’s going to be all right. I suspect some tough times may still be ahead, but that light at the end of the tunnel just keeps getting stronger, doesn’t it?
It’s a great time to be a witness, don’t you think? An even better time to play a role.

Hate Speech? I Call Bullshit.

Sigh. I like my gay people, you know? My best friend’s a gay guy, I’ve had lesbian and bi-sexual friends all my life, and I’ve been a staunch defender of gay rights since I was in my teens, long before it ever got popular. I think my mother thought I was a lesbian in training when I said, “But, Mom, people should be able to love whoever they love.” I mean, I was 14 and it wasn’t even 1990 yet.
Even though I like my gay people, I’m going to say a few things here that might get me in trouble.
Here in Vancouver, the Human Rights Tribunal is convening to investigate complaints that a comedian used hate speech when he flamed a couple lesbians at his show in May.
Here’s where we have a big ol’ class, boys and girls, about how Canada and the United States are different. So let’s digress and give y’all the crash course, okay, for where it pertains to the right to speak freely?
We Canucks have freedom of speech… sort of.
The USA has carte blanche on freedom of speech, so it’s no surprise we’ll hear hate-spewing fuckheads shouting racist remarks followed by “I got a right to speak free, man!”
Here in Canada, no such thing would occur. Why? Inciting hatred is illegal.
Hey, that’s what you like about us, after all. We’re nice, we’re polite, we’re Canadians. We even say please and thank you. And, we promise, when we talk smack about ya, at least we’ll do it nicely. (Most of the time.)
Aside from the incident last month, there’s another case quietly being heard in the courts, getting little press out there in the world, which is surprising, because it’s huge. MacLean’s Magazine dedicated an entire issue in 2007 to Islam in the world today, which was staggering in its slant against Islam. I mean, I’m open-minded, have known Islamic people, and even taught ESL to Saudi Arabian Muslims who I thought were, by far, some of the kindest and most generous people I’d ever met.
And, even still, after reading that issue of MacLean’s, because it was MacLean’s (Canada’s equivalent to Newsweek, and just as trusted) I found myself becoming slightly more anti-Islamic than I’d used to be, which shocked the hell out of me.
Now MacLean’s is facing a lawsuit from the public as well as the government, for spreading hatred. It’s been a long, long time since such a lawsuit has been heard here, though, and against such a venerable publication. And, in this instance, I’m proud and happy that our laws are speaking up and saying that MacLean’s biases against Islam, and trying to argue against it, are the equivalent of “mild-mannered” hate-speech. Good.
So into this current climate wades a new controversy. A human rights tribunal will convene to hear the case of Lorna Pardy versus Guy Earle and Zesty’s Restaurant.
The gist of it all? Basically, a comedian heckled some lesbians at his open mic night he was hosting.
There’s no Youtube video, unfortunately, so much of what transpired is he-said/she-said. What is claimed is that these lesbians were out on the patio all night, getting loaded with drinks, and then they came right into the “club” part of Zesty’s Restaurant on Commercial Drive, sat at the front, and started making out.
The comedian, Guy Earle, says he was pissed off by the disrespect of strolling into a comedy show just to make out — full tongues, everything, in the front row. He says he doesn’t care if you’re “gay, straight, or giraffes”, it’s just rude. He got pissed off and launched on them.
Apparently he made comments like “You’re fat, you’re old, you’re not even lesbian!” and brought up comments about sex toys and such. There’s not a lot of context being put towards these alleged remarks, so it’s hard to really beef it up. He admits he got angry, he says they took it up a notch too.
A question flying around Vancouver is, at what point does the age-old tradition of heckle-smashing in comedy routines become hate speech? Or does it ever?
And here’s where I might get myself in trouble here.
Vancouver’s Commercial Drive, where this went down, is considered many things — the counterculture capital of Canada, a hip place, a great restaurant street, little Italy, where to catch the World Cup of Soccer… but it’s also acknowledged as home to some of the most militant lesbians out there.
We’re talking really, really militant lesbians sometimes. I heard someone describe it as, “Well, comparing them to your average lesbian is like comparing an average black person to a Black Panther, minus all the violence and stuff. They’re just really out there.”
I find that statement a little over the top, but it’s certainly accurate to what the PERCEPTION is from some of the folks out there.
So, if some of them are that in-your-face, the question is, how much did the lesbians in question throw that in his face, and at what point does what you flaunt about yourself mean you’re permitting that to become a weapon against you?
I mean, if you’re acting like a militant lesbian, isn’t that the first thing someone who’s pissed off at you is going to notice and comment on? What, in the name of being politically correct and not hurting anyone’s “alternate lifestyle” sensibility, you’re supposed to try guessing at randomly arcane “safe” things to insult them about? Like, what, “I bet you take your library books back late, bitch”? Right, yeah.
Like, if some fucking asshole driving a Jaguar acts all entitled about making an illegal turn in front of you while driving his Jaguar, what’s the first thing he’s going to get insulted about? “Yeah, you fuckers and your Jaguars, you’re all entitled assholes,” right? Is it a stereotype? Yeah, but it’s a stereotype the guy perpetuated. If he was driving a Civic, you’d find some other obvious way in with the insults. It’s how we roll, man.
This is different, I think, than the Michael Richards tirade where he started launching into black men for being black, and calling them “nigger” and saying 50 years ago was better when they’d had forks shoved up their asses. This is very different than that. VERY different from that.
This is two lesbians walking into a comedy show and fucking making out in the front row. It’s fucking RUDE. If it was a STRAIGHT couple, I’d ask for their asses to be taken the fuck out of the club, ‘cos I think it’s uncalled for that someone sits in the front row and just goes at it full-out with their partner. Sit in the fucking back, you know? It’s the civilized thing to do. But because it’s two lesbians who, I think, deserved to be called out for walking in and disrespecting this other person’s career and efforts by sitting there and rudely making out in the front row it’s somehow homophobic?
These chicks were just wanting to start something, I think. A club on Lesbian Central, a couple militant dykes camping out front row after getting loaded on booze, and then smack-talking the comedian? Yeah, sounds like someone was button-pushing.
And it’s bullshit. If anyone is acting like a militant lesbian or a militant Christian or a militant Muslim or a militant racist or even just a militant dick, they deserve to be called out on what they’re acting like. If they’re being antagonistic and trying to use their beliefs or lifestyle as a get-out-of-jail free card because they pissed someone off and the other party has said something mean to them, then they oughta fuck right off.
They want to be all in-your-face about their beliefs and their lifestyle, then when someone calls ’em on it and comments and gets back in their face, then they want to turtle and claim the “offending party” is some big, bad meanie who’s spewing hate speech? FUCKING HYPOCRITE.
Comedians have always treated hecklers mean. It’s an unwritten rule of attending comedy: Keep your fucking mouth shut if you don’t want the comedian to spank you on the stage.
They’ll trash talk anyone who makes a scene — and that’s most particularly the job of someone like Guy Earle, who was the host of an open mic night, since he’s the guy who had to give a night full of amateurs a little structure. Why? Because everyone wants to show up and be the hot shit who makes the headline comic squirm. Anyone who goes to comedy shows knows this is true — there’s always some asshole with six beers in ’em who thinks they belong on stage, so they smack-talk comedians.
Like a reader in our local paper wrote about Lorna Pardy and Co: “Don’t pitch if you can’t catch.”
I loathe real hate speech. I support our laws against it. But bullshit whiners like these chicks, who go fucking looking for a fight then cry foul because they’ve lost, deserve to fucking lose and lose big.
As a Canadian who usually proudly appreciates the distinctions in freedom to speak between my country and the United States, because we shut down hate speech, I think there’s a world of difference between someone like Earle and someone like Michael Richards, and *I* am offended he gets lumped in with a true hate-spewing fucker like Richards, because it lowers the standards for what we, as a society, really ought to be offended by.
I think there’s a sad irony a case like this is coming up the week that George Carlin dies. Sigh.
What do you guys think? Am I blowing smoke out my ass? Am I secretly a homophobic bitch and this exposes it all? Eh?
Links:
Here’s a great page on Georgia Straight’s blog where they’ve posted both the controversial Michael Richards anti-black rant along with Guy Earle talking to a Toronto talk show about the Necking Lesbian Controversy here in Vancouver. Here’s the New Rebublic tackling this story, and the National Post. Guy Earle’s Myspace page. No info yet on how to contribute to his legal fund, something I hope is forthcoming soon, as I’d like this fight to get the support it deserves.

The Requisite Quarterly Drunken Posting (Hicc)

So, I’m drunk. It’s been forever and a day since I’ve drank and blogged, so you’re owed, dear reader, you’re owed.
Of course, there’s about 60% chance that this posting will suck, but I’ve given you the “I’m drunk” caveat and I’m good if you are. 🙂 Mm, wine!
It’s a cheap and dirty Californian Burgundy. I know, “They have Burgundies in California? It’s a region, you know… Burgundy? Like, in France? Hence the name? Like, French?”
I know, I know. I know. Hey, it’s $6.99. It’s probably one of those proverbial 99-cent bottles of wine from the great Sunshine State. Whatever. It’s all right. I find, sometimes, that life’s just so much simpler if you opt to lower your standards a notch or two, and open your mind. There’s only something wrong if you choose to notice it, right?
So, I says: Fabulous. Tasty, that. I had one of the lofty government liquor store employees recommend me something tasty and light that would work with sauteed salmon. I say it works with getting drunk, that’s what I say.
I decided a second ago that I needed candles and some music, so I’ve opted for Elton John Live in Australia, and lit four candles. And I had a moment… just then. On my quest, I flicked on the light and caught my gaze in a mirror. And this toned, getting tanned face was looking back at me. My face has been lost in an overgrown bad haircut for more than a month… and I’ve lost about 15 pounds in that time. Tonight, wow. It shows. I hadn’t seen that yet, and I cycled 30km today. And to catch myself off-guard, you know?
Maybe you don’t. When you’re in a process of change like I think I’ve been in, just hitting it hard, and working to lose the weight — not relying on a diet plan or something like that to get you through, but sweating hard for six, eight, ten hours a week on top of full-time work, doing the whole “I cook and clean for myself” thing, and maintaining a life, a blog, all that, you get absorbed in life, you know? Months go by when you’re conscious you’re changing a bit, but all it takes is something completely new to enter the picture and you suddenly realize how much change there’s really been from then to now. A haircut shows new face angles you’ve not noticed, or a new outfit betrays new hot curves. Doesn’t take much. But it can blow a mind, baby.
So I’ve had my moment. Sure, I’m drunk, but I hope I remember it. Heh. Or else I get a two-fer and I have the same epiphany when I wake up and get sober. “Holy shit! I’ve lost weight!” Awesome. A two-fer! On a Saturday morning on a four-day long weekend? Fuckin’ a, I’ll take a two-fer. 🙂
Ahh, well. Here’s a promise I make you, readers. I’m stewing on a few heavy, heavy postings. To come in the coming weeks are possibly an entire series devoted to Teen Sex in America Today… or at least my take on it. That will segue into a story or two on the state of AIDS in the world today. I may tackle a sociological story on the demise of the tradition of abdication of femininity of Albanian women who wish to become the clan leaders for their family, a really interesting change in society that’s brought entirely about by media and the new chicks in the spotlight worldwide, an interesting story I’d like to weigh in on.
And, fuck, I can’t forget the long-awaited rise of gay marriage in California, now, can I? More importantly, but less covered, is New York’s decision to start legalizing the recognition of gay marriages performed in states where it is legal. Performing one isn’t legal yet in NY, I don’t think, but they’re opting to legally recognize ones performed elsewhere, so that’s fucking huge, man.
It’s been a really important month in sex and politics, but I’ve sort of needed to take some mental time off.
Tonight, drunk though I be, I feel really, really keen to start tackling some of the harder stuff.
The sex with teenagers thing in America, man, that’s just so depressing, and so very, very scary, and why the mainstream media isn’t covering it more when there’s four months before an election just baffles the fuck out of me. And I’ve been holding back, because when I let go on it, it’s going to be in several back-to-back postings. It’s important. When one in four girls who are 14-16 has an STD under an administration that has pushed abstinence-only education, something NEEDS to be said. 25% of mid-teens are carrying an STD, and it’s not a major issue?
HELLO? Scientists in Antarctica are given condoms on the government dime when sex with coworkers is considered sexual harassment, but kids aren’t taught about condoms in school? Like, what the fuck? Sure, the Wii is fun, but I’d much rather be playing with the cutie from Biology, you know what I’m saying? Can’t get drugs, can’t buy booze, but the bodies are there in the offing? “Duh.”
So, all right, I’ll be tackling that very, very soon. Fuck it, this weekend, even. It’s time, man.
I digress: Before my decision to drink a bottle of red wine (I have a glass in front of me still), I had cycled around much of the fabulous city of Vancouver this evening. About 30k. Gorgeous. It’s the night before a heatwave. In fact, it’s nigh on midnight and all my windows and doors have been open since eight, and it’s hotter now than when I came home. Still, I love me a heatwave and have a notion to do a long, long ride when the bitter hot-hot-hot kicks in tomorrow afternoon, after I scoot around town for the fine fixings for a great weekend from an assortment of farmers’ markets. I can’t afford big things, but I can afford locally-grown organic lettuce and farm-fresh potatoes, and isn’t that something fantastic right there?
I get to babysit a friend’s cat tomorrow night, which is really to say I get to babysit his Wii. My centre of balance is apparently dead centre, says Wii. I rock. Methinks I’m getting drunk again. I mean, if I’m dead centre anyhow, right? I’ll just make sure I move that glass coffee table to a galaxy far, far away…
Fuck, now I want to watch Star Wars and visit galaxies far, far away. Sigh. Great cheap red. I think it’s a hallucinogenic. God knows we loves our hallucinogenics.
My drunk ass needs to be elsewhere. But I feel fantastic! It’s going to be a fun few days. Ahh, cheap red wine, how doth my cheap ass love thee. Expensive red wine I also love, and can appreciate, but I just know how to slum when it’s necessary.
And, believe me… everyone needs to slum it some of the time. It makes the rest of the time feel spectacular. Still, for $6… I bet I feel richer than you right now. It’s good to be me. You have yourselves a fabulous weekend. I might be getting lost in the world a little. Shouldn’t we all?

A Great Link for Anyone Like Me

Anyone who’s been following my blog knows I’ve lost about 40 pounds so far this year from old-fashioned grunt work. I’ve done it all myself — no weightloss organizations, no trainers, no diet plans, no fancy workout equipment purchased, and not even having a gym membership.
Yeah, I’m proud of myself. Rightly so.
But some support along the way would have been nice. So I’m thrilled it’s not too late to find that support, since I have another 50 pounds I wish to lose. I’ve found LiveStrong.com, a website begun by biking’s golden boy, Lance Armstrong, which is an incredible community filled with lots of articles and education divided into easy-to-navigate sections like “Eat Well” and “Be Active” and “Stay Young” and “Find Balance.
There’s a wildly active forum community. Every member gets a profile. There’s ways of measuring your calories, fitness, and means of tracking everything about your life. There’s “groups” where microcommunities with similar goals amass, and there’s “Dares” where you choose a challenge to strive towards, like “Quit smoking” or “Lower my blood pressure”, and really useful programs for tracking and improving your effort on a daily basis.
Did I mention the whole thing is free?
Any place like this I’ve seen on the web that has been free has looked like a fucking Mickey Mouse operation. This is sleek, like something like Nerve.com or Lavalife.com. Beautiful system.
It’s in Beta now, and if you’re like me and can’t afford these places like The Biggest Loser Club where they want you spending $20 a month or whatever, check it out, but make sure you tell them the “free” thing is important to you.
As I explained in a glowing letter I wrote them, “Health is too important for it always to be about industry. Someone has had to stand up and say, ‘Every body deserves to be healthy, no matter what their income’. And it looks like that was Lance.”
If you join, speak up, let them know. Support their advertisers so the free-thing can continue. But, mostly, just live strong. That’s my plan. I’ve got two hours of cycling in 25/85 degree heat today… and I’m pretty pleased about it, because I live strong! 🙂

Um, The Weirdest Poll Ever (Or One Of)

So, I got up early to make myself muffins today. It was a new recipe. Cinnamon Banana-Peanut Butter Muffins. I thought it looked really liquidy, but I thought “Stranger things have happened…” I mean, I know of flourless cake recipes, right?
So, I bake them, I take poke them, the finger indent pops back up, which is the tried-and-true method of knowing when muffins are ready.
Except this time. See, I take ’em out, take a deep breath, think, “Wow, these are going to rock! They smell SO! good!” I put ’em atop the stove… and I step off to tinker while watching the morning news, awaiting my kettle to boil.
I go back, and the muffins have fallen! They’ve gone flat, like bad souffles. “WHAT?” I bake ’em longer… they still look raw. “FUCK!”
There was no saving ’em. I tried. Cinnamon banana-y, peanutty goodness? DAMN RIGHT I tried to save them. I may have lost 40 pounds, but I’m no fool.
___
So, they’re no good. Somewhat raw, can’t eat ’em. Question: Is it safe to feed them to the seagulls and pigeons? Cinnamon and banana-y goodness can’t go entirely to waste, right?
So, can I feel ’em to the birds? Whatcha say, minions?
Fuckin’ recipe… 25 years of muffin-making and not one batch has ever failed me. My perfect record is no more. Fuckin’ recipe!

Things I Love to Do, and Can, 'Cause I'm Single – #17

Leaving work early, like I have something important to rush off for, but, really, all I want to do is have a dinner date with myself: Get to a local Farmer’s Market before it closes, buy ingredients for a as-yet-undecided very in-season gourmet meal with fresh local Coho salmon, heirloom tomatoes, a bottle of wine, and some artisan bread. Then, cooking the best meal I know how, with my incredible just-harvested organic produce… and getting a little drunk. Hicc.
[I blogged about my culinary adventure on TLD.]
(Check the comments for the complete list, amended with the latest reader additions. Leave a comment with your own thing you love to do when you’re all alone, single or not. You never know, it might inspire someone you’ll never meet half a world away. Gotta love the Web.)

Things I Love to Do, and Can, 'Cause I'm Single – #14

I think I’ve started something here, so I’m now compiling a complete list of these, including reader suggestions for additional points. See the comments on this posting for the complete list. Have your say and get on the list, if ya like. Have at it.

Having a four-day long weekend planned with exciting things to do with myself, by myself, before a crazy two weeks begins:
An afternoon at the beach, a long ambling bikeride to an old independent theatre for an afternoon matinee, a sleep-in and a DVD day, and a day packed with to-dos to scratch off the list. A bottle of wine. Maybe even two. An expensive steak, a fancy meal. Maybe 2. Maybe 4. Hell, maybe 10. All for me. Because I’m worth it. Because life’s short.

Of George Carlin and Obscenity in the Courts Today

It’s 12:30am and I have a pretty solid rule of no writing latenight anymore, ‘cos it gets my mind revving for bed, but then I shouldn’t have stumbled on the midnight airing of Larry King, on which a few comics are lamenting the loss of George Carlin.
Bill Maher nailed it nicely, in speaking of both Lenny Bruce and George Carlin. Lenny Bruce, he liked but didn’t love, ‘cos while Bruce was wildly groundbreaking, he wasn’t always funny. Carlin, however, even when he offended the shit outta you, his fuckin’ smirk would win you over and you’d be smitten by the act’s end.
Here’s the thing, though. Carlin’s greatest contribution to our society, I think, is that words are just words, and if we wanna let ’em hurt us or bother us, that’s our right, but our rights should stop when it starts infringing on other people’s rights to use whatever words they like.
That’s it, in a nutshell. I mean, shit, it’s a fucking word. What’s the motherfucking problem? Why are they getting their tits in a twist? Don’t let the cocksuckers win. They’re a bunch of cunts just taking the piss. Continue reading →

Things I Love to Do, and Can, 'Cause I'm Single – #7

Note: If you’re wondering why the list started at #6, it’s because I thought “sleep in, get drunk, masturbate, burp, and wear pajamas for the whole day” were really obvious as a solid lock for the top 5. I mean, really, come on. They’re universal. We’re not proud that we like to be that way sometimes, but we secretly love to do ’em all. And on the same day? Ha, yeah, score. It’s the Catholic way to sin: In a bunch, so you can be penitent all in one shot and get the guilt over with sooner. I thought it only fitting I take a moment to acknowledge what should be obvious but, in the Puritanical age we sometimes seem to live in, may well not be obvious, in tribute to the dear departed George Carlin, who I know would really understand.

Saying “My holiday can’t end this soon!” and sleeping in till 8 on a Monday, then casually cycling to work at 11 after an eggs-and-sausage brekkie, and getting home at 8:30, with supper getting on the table around 9:30. Like I did today and tonight. 🙂

Carlin is Dead, Long Live Carlin

Freedoms are something we take for granted in places like the US and Canada… until someone comes along and takes those freedoms.
The trouble with being “free” is we don’t always realize how limited that freedom truly is. That’s why we have people like George Carlin in our lives, people who push buttons.
Or we did. George Carlin died Sunday of a heart attack.
When it comes to really saying how society is, I think comics like Lenny Bruce and George Carlin have had such important roles to play. Lenny Bruce I’ve eulogized before on this blog. Carlin, not so much. I’m a huge fan of comedy, but more so the pushy, provocative skits of the ’70s.
In 1973, Carlin had a skit air on the radio that prompted another challenge of America’s obscenity laws that had plagued Bruce till he died. Carlin fought the charges and the Supreme Court ruled he was indecent, but not obscene. It wouldn’t be Carlin’s last fight, either, but he’d always win a little bit.
I’m a big fan of Freedom of Speech, albeit I’m a fan of our Canadian version of it, not the American version. (The difference? Although you’re not allowed to do hate speech in Canada, [which goes against “freedom” of speech but I approve] we can swear more, get away with more, and we have more sex on TV.)
But I’m a big believer that the freedoms I celebrate by being angrily on-point with issues, swearing all over the place, and flaming anyone I can think of, come on the heels of such provocative work done over the years by folks like Carlin, Bruce, Bill Hicks, and any other dead comedic great you want to lump in there.
Unfortunately, the debate between “obscene” and “indecent” still rages in the USA, and the land of the free still isn’t as unbridled and free as many of today’s comics wish it would be.
There aren’t a lot of comics where you always get the joke, professionals who understand how to really make their audience come alive, but Carlin was the last truly great comedian left from the time when American censors were getting paid too well for their jobs, when getting onstage meant daily questions of “What’s gonna be too much for this town, anyhow?”
For folks like Carlin and Bruce, that question would get answered when they’d land in jail yet again for some dirty jokes or peppering speech with profanities.
Just a little of the free speech you have in America is thanks to folks like Carlin who questioned those who called him “obscene”.
After all, what some people consider obscene is how the rest of us like to live our lives.
I’m sad that the world’s without Carlin now. I’m sad he never lived to receive his Mark Twain’s Humourist prize this November.
But I’m glad he pushed some buttons in his lifetime. Thanks, George. The mark you left behind changed the landscape of public speech, and you will be remembered.