George Carlin: You Are All Diseased Page #3

---

sh*t about angels?

Have you heard this?

Yeah, three out

of four people

now believe in angels.

What are you

f***ing stupid?

Has everybody lost

their f***ing mind

in this country?

Angels, sh*t.

You know what

I think it is?

I think it's a

massive collective

psychotic chemical

flashback

of all the drugs,

all the drugs,

smoked, swallowed,

snorted, shot

and absorbed rectally

by all Americans

from 1960 to 1990.

Thirty years of

adulterated street drugs

will get you some

f***ing angels my friend.

Angels sh*t.

What about goblins huh?

Doesn't anybody

believe in goblins?

Never hear about them

except on Halloween

and its always negative

sh*t too you know?

And zombies, where the

f*** are all the zombies?

That's the trouble

with zombies,

they're unreliable.

I say if you're going

to buy the angels sh*t

you might as well go

for the zombie

package as well.

Here's another

horrifying example,

aspect of

American culture,

the pussification,

the continued,

the continued

pussification

of the American male

in the form...

yeah all right,

in the form of

Harley Davidson

theme restaurants.

What the f*** is

going on here?

Harley Davidson used

to mean something.

It stood for

biker attitude.

Grimy outlaws and

there sweaty mamas,

full of beer and crank

rolling around

on Harley's

looking for a good time

destroying property,

raping teenagers and

killing policemen.

All very necessary

activities by the way

but now theme

restaurants

and this soft sh*t

obviously didn't come

from hardcore bikers.

It came from these

weekend motorcyclists.

These fraudulent,

two day a week

motherfuckers

who have their bikes

trucked into

Sturgis, South Dakota

for the big rally

and then ride around

like they just come

in off the road.

Dentist and bureaucrats

and p*ssy boy

software designers

getting up on a Harley

cause they think

it makes them cool.

Well hey Skeezits

you ain't cool,

you're f***ing chilly.

And chilly ain't

never been cool.

And here as long

as were talking

about theme restaurants,

I got a proposition

for you,

I think if white people

are going to burn

down black churches

then black people

ought to burn down the

House Of Blues huh?

What a f***ing disgrace

that place is,

the House Of Blues.

They ought to call it

the house of lame

white motherfuckers.

Inauthentic, low

frequency, single digit

lame white motherfuckers,

especially these

male movie stars

who think they're

blues artist.

You ever see these guys?

Don't you just want

to puke in your soup

when one of these fat,

balding, overweight,

over aged, out of shape,

middle-aged

male movie stars

with sunglasses

jumps on stage

and starts blowing

into a harmonica.

It's a f***ing sacrilege.

In the first place,

in the first place,

white people

got no business

playing the blues

ever at all,

under any

circumstances.

Ever, ever, ever.

What the f***

do white people

have to be blue about?

Banana Republic

ran out of khakis?

Huh?

The Espresso

machine is jammed.

Hootie and the Blowfish

are breaking up?

Sh*t white people

ought to understand

there job is to give

people the blues

not to get them.

And certainly not to

sing or play them.

Tell you a little

secret about the blues;

it's not enough to know

which notes to play

you got to know why

they need to be played.

And another thing,

I don't think,

I don't think

white people

should be trying to

dance like blacks.

Stop that!

Stick to your faggoty

polkas and waltzes.

And that repulsive

country line dancing

sh*t that you do

and be yourself.

Be proud, be

white, be lame

and get the f***

off the dance floor.

Now.

I thank you.

Now listen,

long as were

discussing minorities

I'd like to mention

something about language.

There are a

couple of terms

being used a

lot these days

by guilty

white liberals.

First one is,

happens to be.

He happens to be black.

I have a friend

who happens to be black.

Like it's a f***ing

accident you know?

Happens to be black?

Yes he happens

to be black.

Awe yeah, yeah, yeah.

He had two black parents?

Oh yes, yes he did.

Yes.

And they f***ed?

Oh indeed they did.

Indeed.

So where does the

surprise part come in?

I should think it

would be more unusual

if he just happened

to be Scandinavian.

And the other

term is openly.

Openly gay.

They'll say,

he's openly gay.

But this... that's

the only minority

they use that for.

You know you wouldn't say

someone was openly black.

Well maybe James Brown

or Lewis Farrakhan.

Lewis Farrakhan

is openly black.

Colin Powell is

not openly black.

Colin Powell is

openly white,

he just happens

to be black.

Okay.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Yeah.

Oh thank you.

Thank you.

And while were at it

when did the word urban

become synonymous

with the word black?

Did I fall asleep for

eight or nine years?

Urban styles, urban

trends, urban music,

I was not consulted

on this at all.

Didn't get an email,

didn't a fax,

didn't get a f***ing

postcard, fine!

Let them go.

And I don't

think white women

should be calling each

other girlfriend okay?

Stop pretending

to be black.

And no matter

what color you are

"you go girl"

should probably go...

right along,

right along with

"you the man."

Hey you the man.

Oh yeah?

Well you the

f***ing honkey.

Now something a little

more positive for you.

Don't want you to think

the whole show is

just negativity.

This is about a festival.

This is my idea

for one of those

big outdoor

summer festivals.

This is called Slugfest.

This is for men only.

Here's what you do,

you get about a

hundred thousand

of these f***ing men,

you know the ones I mean,

these macho

motherfuckers.

Yeah, these strutting,

preening, posturing,

hairy, sweaty, alpha

male jack offs.

The muscle a**holes.

You take about a

hundred thousand

of these

disgusting pricks

and you throw them

in a big dirt arena,

big twenty-five

acre dirt arena,

and you just let them

beat the sh*t

out of each other

for twenty-four

hours nonstop,

no food, no water

just whiskey and PCP.

And you just let them

punch and pound and kick

the sh*t out of

each other until

only one guy is

left standing

then you

take that guy

and you put him

on a pedestal

and you shoot him

the f***ing head.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Then you put the

whole thing on TV.

Budweiser would

jump at that sh*t

in half a minute.

And guys would volunteer.

Guys would line up

all you got to do

is promise them a small

appliance of some kind.

Men will do anything

just give them something

that plugs in the wall

makes a whirring noise.

Here's another

male clich,

these guys who

cut the sleeves

off of their T-shirts

so the rest of us can have

an even more

compelling experience

of smelling

their armpits.

I say, hey Bruno shut it

down would you please?

You smell like an

anchovy's c*nt okay?

Yeah.

Not good.

Not good Bruno

and definitely

not for sharing.

Rate this script:3.3 / 4 votes