Brain Droppings

And another type of courage, “bravery in battle,” is to me even more suspect. Not only are there inherited genetic traits at work, there are also heavy doses of adrenaline and testosterone contributing to the

b r a droppings situation, and those two hormones are affected and controlled by genes too. There are not really any heroes—there are only genetic freaks.

So relax, folks. The pressure’s off. Everything’s encoded. You heard it here. ……..

Remember the guy who paid one hundred dollars at a Michigan fair to try the bungee jump? And the cord broke, and he fell? The guy wanted his hundred dollars back. Is he kidding? I’d say, “Fuck you! You owe an extra hundred!” A hundred for goin’ down, and a hundred for goin’ down the rest of the way. Shit, he got twice the excitement, he oughta pay twice the price.

And they said he glanced off the side of the “air mattress.” Air mattress? What kinda fuckin’ bungee jump is that? Jagged rocks! That’s what they oughta have at the bottom. If there’s no risk, why bother? Fuckin’ air mattress. My pulse wouldn’t even change. If these guys are thrill seekers, let ‘em seek a real thrill: I think every third bungee cord should be defective. enow TinE on DEATH ROW

Suppose you’re on death row, and they tell you you can have one last meal. And it’s an honorable thing, they take pride in it and they really try to live up to it. But you can’t make up your mind. You have most of the meal figured out except you can’t decide between steak

GEORGE

C A R L I N

b r a

d 1 o p p ings

and lobster. You honestly can’t decide. Can they kill you? If you real ly can’t decide? Truth serum, lie detector, psychologists; it becomes a big media thing: “MAN TELLING THE TRUTH, CAN’T REALLY DECIDE.” Can thev kill you? Can they honestly drag you down the last mile screaming “Turf, surf, who knows?” But then, finally. Finally, after eighteen months of indecision, you say, “OK! I got it! Gimme the steak!” And everybody goes, “Ohh, cool, wow, he wants the steak.” Then the warden says to you. “How would you like that steak done?” And you say, “Oh, Jeez … I have no idea. Can I get back to you on that?”

If a picture is worth ten thousand words,* then one twenty-five-hundredth of a picture should be worth four words.

And if Helen of Troy had the face that launced a thousand ships, I and a picture is worth ten thousand words, doesn’t that mean one pic- [ ture of Helen’s face should be worth ten million ships?

And, if the night has a thousand eyes, and getting there is half the I fun, that means to have fun getting there at night would require five j hundred eyes.

And, if getting there is half the fun, and half a loaf is better than I none, would getting halfway there with a whole loaf be more or less fun? I

And if half a loaf is better than none, the night has a thousand! eyes, a picture is worth ten thousand words, getting there is half the| fun, and Helen of Troy had the face that launched a thousand ships, , *The actual proverb is “One picture is worth ten thousand words.” —Confucius8

then in a picture taken at night from a ship that is halfway there, how much fun would Helen be having if she were holding a full loaf? And could you see it in her eyes? OK, now suppose Helen of Troy lived in a halfway house. . . .

Why are there no B batteries? There aren’t even any A batteries. In fact, it’s almost as if they went out of their way to avoid A. They went straight to AA and AAA. Also, I never see any grade B milk, or type III audio cassettes. And there are no vitamins F, G, H, I, and J. Why? Why are certain airline seat numbers missing, and what ever became of the Boeing 717? And Chanel #4? Also, all I ever hear about are the Sixth and Seventh Fleets. Where are the other five? And why are there hardly any brown ru

I’m gettin’ sick of “scientific progress.” Scientists are easily the least responsible class in society. If you’re one of those “green” assholes who run around worrying about the condition of the planet all the time, you might as well just go ahead and blame it all on the scientists. They’re the ones who fouled the nest. Without them, none of the bad shit gets done. Self-important, asshole scientists, most of them working for the Pentagon or big business, creating harmful products

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C A R L I N GEORGE we don’t need. They don’t care what they produce as long as they get to publish their fuckin’ papers.

And the idealistic ones? The ones who won’t have anything to do with the weapons makers and greed-heads? The ones involved in “pure research”? They lay the groundwork for the truly dangerous scientists who move in later and apply the knowledge commercially. Scientists have consistently assaulted and violated your planet. That’s why you have AIDS, that’s why you have a hole in your ozone layer, that’s why your atmosphere is overheating, that’s why you have toxic and nuclear waste, and that’s why everything has a thin coating of oil on it. And next, they’re going to turn these irresponsible motherfuckers loose on human genetic engineering. That ought to be a real treat. Scientists. The only ones worth a fuck are theoretical physicists. At least they’re nuts.

At the start, let me say I am not an animal rights activist. I’m not comfortable with absolutes.

And I know that every time something eats, something else dies. I recognize the Earth is little more than a revolving buffet with weather. So, the idea of eating animals is fine with me, but is it really necessary to make things out of the parts we don’t eat? We’re the only species that does this. You never see a mongoose with snakeskin shoes. Or a lion walkin’ around in a wildebeest hat. And how often do you run into plankton that have phytoplankton luggage?

And I think people have a lot of nerve locking up a tiger and charging four dollars to let a few thousand worthless humans shuffle past him every day. What a shitty thing to

brain droppings do. Humans must easily be the meanest species on Earth. 6 Probably the only reason there are any tigers left is because they don’t taste good. I respect animals. I have more sympathy for an injured or dead animal than I have for an injured or dead human ^ being, because human beings participate and cooperate in their own undoing. Animals are completely i

Here is an anecdote from the writer Patricia Highsmith: “Not so long ago I said to a friend of mine: ‘If I saw a kitten and a little human baby sitting on the curb starving, I would feed the kitten first if nobody was looking.’ My friend said: ‘I would feed the kitten first if somebody was looking.’” I would <j too, Patricia.

Some people seem shocked and say, “You care more about animals than you do about humans!” Fuckin’-A well told!

I do not torture animals, and I do not support the torture of animals, such as that which goes on at rodeos: cowardly ^ men in big hats abusing simple beasts in a fruitless search for manhood. In fact, I regularly pray for serious, life-threatening rodeo injuries. I wish for a cowboy to walk crooked, and with great pain, for the rest of his life. I cheer when a bull at Pamplona sinks one of his horns deep into the lower intestines of some drunken European macho swine. And my cheers grow louder when the victim is a young American macho-jock tourist asshole. Especially ; if the bull is able to swing that second horn around and ‘; catch the guy right in the nuts.

GEORGE CARLIN

brain d toppings

But although I don’t go out of my way to bother Irvine- O things, I am not without personal standards. A mosquito on my arm, an ant or a cockroach in my kitchen, a moth approaching my lapel; these animals will die. Other insects in my home, however, the ones who merely wish to rest awhile, will be left alone. Or, if noisy and rowdy, lifted gently and returned to the great outdoors.