RIP George Carlin

Jerry Seinfeld's take on George Carlin's death:

The honest truth is, for a comedian, even death is just a premise to make jokes about. I know this because I was on the phone with George Carlin nine days ago and we were making some death jokes. We were talking about Tim Russert and Bo Diddley and George said: “I feel safe for a while. There will probably be a break before they come after the next one. I always like to fly on an airline right after they’ve had a crash. It improves your odds.”

I called him to compliment him on his most recent special on HBO. Seventy years old and he cranks out another hour of great new stuff. He was in a hotel room in Las Vegas getting ready for his show. He was a monster.

You could certainly say that George downright invented modern American stand-up comedy in many ways. Every comedian does a little George. I couldn’t even count the number of times I’ve been standing around with some comedians and someone talks about some idea for a joke and another comedian would say, “Carlin does it.” I’ve heard it my whole career: “Carlin does it,” “Carlin already did it,” “Carlin did it eight years ago.”

And he didn’t just “do” it. He worked over an idea like a diamond cutter with facets and angles and refractions of light. He made you sorry you ever thought you wanted to be a comedian. He was like a train hobo with a chicken bone. When he was done there was nothing left for anybody.

But his brilliance fathered dozens of great comedians. I personally never cared about “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television,” or “FM & AM.” To me, everything he did just had this gleaming wonderful precision and originality.

I became obsessed with him in the ’60s. As a kid it seemed like the whole world was funny because of George Carlin. His performing voice, even laced with profanity, always sounded as if he were trying to amuse a child. It was like the naughtiest, most fun grown-up you ever met was reading you a bedtime story.

I know George didn’t believe in heaven or hell. Like death, they were just more comedy premises. And it just makes me even sadder to think that when I reach my own end, whatever tumbling cataclysmic vortex of existence I’m spinning through, in that moment I will still have to think, “Carlin already did it.”

I call shenanigans.

In case you missed it, President Bush got all up in Congress's grill on Wednesday, berating Democrats for not lifting the federal ban on offshore oil and gas drilling. Some choice comments included:

"There is no excuse for delay... Families across the country are looking to Washington for a response... I know the Democratic leaders have opposed some of these policies in the past. Now that their opposition has helped drive gas prices to record levels, I ask them to reconsider their positions."

Bush went on to say that if congressional leaders head home for their July 4 recess without taking action, they will need to explain why "$4 a gallon gasoline is not enough incentive for them to act. And Americans will rightly ask how high gas prices have to rise before the Democratic-controlled Congress will do something about it."

You tell 'em, W. I'm sure the Democrats will get right on that. While they're at it, are there any other long-standing policies that we can lift in an effort to pander to the oil industry? I've never been crazy about habeas corpus. And don't even get me started on eminent domain.

Tiger is better at life than you.

According to David Brooks, who waxes poetic about Tiger Woods in this morning's NY Times, the world's greatest golfer once "tried out four drivers that Nike was experimenting with and told the lab guys that he preferred the heavier one. The researchers thought the clubs were the same weight, but they measured and Woods was right. The club he’d selected was heavier by the equivalent of two cotton balls."

Pretty awesome. Kind of like the latest Nike commercial featuring Tiger and his late father, Earl Woods:

Waiting on the World to Change

Sung to the tune of the ubiquitous John Mayer song:

Me and Amanda
We're kinda freakin' out
We're about to become parents
About that part there's not a doubt

But the thing that remains unknown
The thing that keeps us up at night
Is when this baby will come join us
Whether next week or tonight

So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change
Me and Amanda waiting
Waiting on the world to change

It could be tomorrow morning
Or maybe not until July
So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change

"Uh, no, Dad."

I've always thought that the most disturbing aspect of the final sequence of "Teen Wolf" was the guy who frantically zips up his pants after watching Michael J. Fox sink the winning free throws (1:47 mark, upper left corner, dude in red sweater).

Turns out I was wrong.

Check out the embrace that occurs between Scott Howard and his dad as Red Sweater examines his zipper.

Red Wine Makes You Invincible

More good news for wine lovers: The NY Times reports that red wine may be even more potent than previously thought in extending human lifespan. The report is based on a study that involves dosing mice with resveratrol, an ingredient found in some red wines. According to the Times, "Some scientists are already taking resveratrol in capsule form, but others believe it is far too early to take the drug, especially using wine as its source, until there is better data on its safety and effectiveness."


Safety shmafety. Bring on the pills.

Mr. Sparkle Approves

David Sedaris made an appearance on The Daily Show last night to promote his new book, which is awesomely entitled "When You Are Engulfed in Flames." Sedaris claims that the book's title was inspired by a booklet he came across while staying in a Hiroshima hotel. The booklet was (even more awesomely) entitled "Best Knowledge of Disaster Damage Prevention and Favors to Ask of You." As if that title wasn't enough, the booklet contained the following chapters:

1) When You Check In a Hotel
2) When You Find a Fire
3) When You Are Engulfed in Flames

How hysterical is that? I am so buying that book.

And now, for your viewing pleasure (click play and then pause):


via videosift.com

Sample In A Jar

Would it be okay if we talked about urine for a little bit?

I took a drug test for my new job last week. In retrospect, I probably should have refrained from using the bathroom immediately before driving to the Quest Diagnostics office, which is located all of five minutes from my house. Upon arrival, I was handed a plastic cup and instructed to, "Give me all you got." Had this directive been in reference to the effort put forth during the urination process, as opposed to, say, the urine put forth during the urination process, I would have been in great shape.

It wasn't.

Long story short, I received a "QNS" on my first attempt, which apparently stands for Quantity Not Sufficient. I spent the next forty-five minutes pounding water in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting a full bladder and an opportunity to redeem myself.

Guerdon Up My Loins

Amanda and I spent our Friday evening watching ABC's broadcast of the 2008 Scripps National Spelling Bee Championship Finals.
Sameer Mishra, who is not suspected of having used performance-enhancing drugs, took home the trophy by successfully spelling the word "Guerdon" in the 16th and final round. Gotta love Mishra's sense of humor:

Joseph White of the AP wrote that Mishra, who won $40,000 in cash and prizes, was a crowd favorite all the way through the competition: When told one of his words in the semifinals was a dessert, he deadpanned: "That sounds good right now." He rolled his eyes and muttered "wonderful" when told that one of his words had five different language roots. He once asked, "Are you sure there are no alternate pronunciations?"

And now, in an effort to make myself feel better about the fact that I spent my Friday night watching a televised spelling contest, I will enjoy a laugh at this kid's expense: