When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?

by George Carlin

  POLITICIAN TALK #2: Trouble on the Hill

  Continuing our review of the language of the elected, it seems that, linguistically, politicians hit their truest stride when they find themselves in trouble. At times like these, the explanations typically begin with a single word: miscommunication.

  “How do you answer these felony charges, Senator?”

  “The whole thing was a miscommunication.”

  “But what about the tapes?”

  “They took them out of context. They twisted my words.” Nice touch. A person who routinely spends his time bending and torturing the English language telling us that someone has twisted his words.

  But as the problem gets worse, and his troubles increase, he’s forced to take his explanation in a new direction. He now tells us that “The whole thing has been blown out of proportion.” And by the way, have you noticed with these blown-out-of-proportion people that it’s always “the whole thing”? Apparently, no one has ever claimed that a only a small part of something has been blown out of proportion.

  But as time passes and the evidence continues to accumulate, our hero suddenly changes direction and begins using public-relations jujitsu. He says, “We’re trying to get to the bottom of this.” We. Suddenly, he’s on the side of the law. “We’re trying to get to the bottom of this, so we can get the facts out to the American people.” Nice. The American people. Always try to throw them in; it makes it sound as if you actually care.

  As the stakes continue to rise, our hero now makes a subtle shift and says, “I’m willing to trust in the fairness of the American people.” Clearly, he’s trying to tell us something: that there may just be a little fire causing all the smoke. But notice he’s still at the I-have-nothing-to-hide stage.

  But then, slowly, “I’m willing to trust in the fairness of the American people” progresses to “There is no credible evidence,” and before long, we’re hearing the very telling, “No one has proven a thing.”

  Now, if things are on track in this drama, and the standard linguistic path of the guilty is being followed faithfully, “No one has proven a thing” will precede the stage when our hero begins to employ that particularly annoying technique: Ask-yourself-questions-and-then-answer-them:

  “Did I show poor judgment? Yes. Was there inappropriate behavior? Yes. Do I wish this never happened? Of course. But did I break the law? That’s not the issue.”

  The calendar is marching, however, and it soon becomes clear that our friend is most likely quite guilty, indeed. We know this, because he now shifts into that sublime use of the passive voice: mistakes were made. The beauty of mistakes were made is that it doesn’t really identify who made them. You’re invited to think what you wish. Bad advice? Poor staff work? Voodoo curse?

  But it’s too late. Mistakes were made quickly becomes eventually I will be exonerated, which then morphs into I have faith in the American judicial system, and the progression ends with that plaintive cry, whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty; well, he’s about to find out.

  Eventually, in full retreat (and federal custody), he shuffles off in his attractive orange jumpsuit, and can be heard muttering that most modern of mea culpas: “I just want to put this thing behind me and get on with my life.” And to emphasize how sincere he is, he announces, “I’m taking responsibility for my actions.” How novel! Imagine; taking responsibility. He says it as though it were a recently developed technique.

  Whenever I hear that sort of thing on the news, I always want to ask one of these I’m-taking-responsibility-for-my-actions people whether or not they’d be willing to take responsibility for my actions. You know, gambling debts, paternity suits, outstanding warrants. Can you help me out here, pal?

  Regarding this whole put-this-thing-behind-me idea in general, here’s what I’d like to do. I’d like to put this I-want-to-put-this-thing-behind-me-and-get-on-with-my-life thing behind me and get on with my life. May I repeat that for you? I’d like to put this I-want-to-put-this-thing-behind-me-and-get-on-with-my-life thing behind me and get on with my life.

  I think one of the problems in this country is that too many people are screwing things up, committing crimes and then getting on with their lives. What is really needed for public officials who shame themselves is ritual suicide. Hara-kiri. Like those Japanese business executives who mismanage corporations into bankruptcy. Never mind the lawyers and the public relations and the press conferences, get that big knife out of the kitchen drawer and do the right thing.

  POLITICIAN TALK #3: Senator Patriot Speaks

  To take up a thread from an earlier section of this politico-lingo trilogy, we noted at the time the fact that most politicians operate under the delusion that what they’re is doing is serving the nation. Of course, if they really feel this way, they’re more than simply misinformed, they’re obviously not playing with a full bag of jacks.

  So, citizens; a question. Do you think it’s at all possible that these politicians whose judgment is so faulty that they actually believe they’re serving the nation might be expected to indulge occasionally in some, oh, I don’t know, exaggerated patriotism? Hah? Whaddya think? Maybe? Hah?

  Well, fans, it’s not just possible, it’s downright inevitable. And should they be so indulging themselves on the Fourth of July, you’ll want to be sure to have hip boots and shovels handy, because brown stuff is going to be piling up at an alarming rate. And I suggest you shovel fast, because your elected heroes will be squeezing every last ounce of counterfeit patriotism out of their blood-starved brains.

  And so, as you see them rushing madly across the landscape, pushing all the buttons marked red, white and blue, be on the alert for phrases such as Old Glory; Main Street; the stars and stripes; the heartland; all across this great land of ours; from Maine to California; and, of course, on American soil. And don’t forget all those freedom-loving people around the world who look to us as a beacon of hope. Those, I assume, would be the ones we haven’t bombed lately. And you’d also better be ready to be reminded, over and over, that you live in a country that somehow fancies itself leader of the free world. Got that? Leader of the free world. I don’t know when we’re going to retire that stupid shit, but personally, I’ve heard it quite long enough.

  And what exactly is the free world, anyway? I guess it would depend on what you consider the non-free world. And I can’t find a clear definition of that, can you? Where is that? Russia? China? For chrissakes, Russia has a better Mafia than we do now, and China is pirating Lion King DVDs and selling dildos on the Internet. They sound pretty free to me.

  Here are some more jingoistic variations you need to be on the lookout for: The greatest nation on Earth; the greatest nation in the history of the world; and the most powerful nation on the face of the Earth. That last one is usually thrown in just before we bomb a bunch of brown people. Which is every couple of years. And bombing brings me to the language used by politicians when referring to our armed forces.

  Now, normally, during peacetime, politicians will refer to members of the military as our young men and women around the world. But since we’re so rarely at peace for more than six months at a time, during wars Senator Patriot and his colleagues are fully prepared to raise the stakes. (Don’t you just love that word, colleagues? It makes them sound so . . . I don’t know, legitimate.) And so it is, that in times of combat, our young men and women around the world quickly become our brave young fighting men and women stationed halfway around the world in places whose names they can’t pronounce. And for added emotional impact, they may also mention that these military folks spend a lot of time wondering if they’ll ever see their loved ones again. That one gets people right in the belly button. And should the speaker be going for maximum emotional effect, he will deliver the above passage, substituting sons and daughters for men and women.

  And isn’t that reference “places whose names they can’t pronounce” a lovely little piece of subtle r
acism? That’s an all-American, red-meat bonus they throw in for you.

  Here’s another way politicians express their racist geographic chauvinism: young men and women stationed in places the average American can’t find on a map. I’ve always thought it was amusing—and a bit out of character—for a politician to go out of his way to point out the limited amount of intelligence possessed by the American people. Especially since his job security depends on that very same limitation. It would also appear to contradict that other well-traveled and inaccurate standby: The American people are a lot smarter than they’re given credit for.

  Amazingly, politicians have mastered the art of uttering those words with a perfectly straight face, even though the proposition is stated precisely backward. Judging from the results of focus groups, polls and election returns that I’ve seen, and watching the advertising directed at Americans, I’d say the American people are a lot dumber than they’re given credit for. As one example, just look at the individuals they keep sending to their statehouses and to Washington to represent them. Look also at what they’ve done to their once-beautiful country and its landscape.

  Wrapping up this modest review of patriotic political language, I think it’s safe to conclude that the degree of a politician’s insincerity can best be measured by how far around the world our soldiers are, and whether or not any of them is able to pronounce the name of the place. And whether or not their neighbors back home can find it on a map.

  ZERO TOLERANCE

  I get weary of this zero tolerance bullshit. It’s annoying. To begin with, it’s a fascist concept; it’s what Hitler and Stalin practiced. It allows for no exceptions or compassion of any kind. All is black and white—no gradations. But even more important, it doesn’t solve anything. The use of such a slogan simply allows whichever company, school or municipality is using it to claim they’re doing something about a problem when, in fact, nothing is being done at all and the problem is being ignored. It’s a cosmetic non-solution designed to impress simpletons. Whenever you hear the phrase zero tolerance, remember, someone is bullshitting you.

  Dempsey’s Department Store: Drop In Today

  Shoppers! For a limited time only, Dempsey’s Department Store is offering a complete line of cheap crap at extremely high prices. Come in today and be treated rudely by our poorly trained clerks. Remember, at Dempsey’s we’re not just talking about the high cost of living, we’re doing something about it: We’re raising our prices.

  ENJOY A PLEASANT DIURNAL EXPERIENCE

  I’m not sure you’ve noticed it, but I’m always trying to improve society. And in my relentless pursuit, I feel the time may finally have arrived for me to address “Have a nice day.” I think we can agree it has gotten completely out of hand.

  Just to give you some background on my long-standing interest in this subject, when I was a young man we didn’t have “Have a nice day.” It isn’t that we didn’t have nice days, of course—offhand I can remember several, most of them in 1949—but somehow, we had them without any prompting. No coaching was necessary. The nice days just sort of happened. Perhaps at that time the days were simply nicer, and we took them for granted. It could be that today’s days leave much to be desired and actually need a little help. But if that’s true, I’m not convinced that “Have a nice day” is the best solution.

  And so, in my ongoing effort to elevate human experience, I think I have come up with an improved version of “Have a nice day.” It’s an alternative system of well-wishing, and frankly, something I hope will become the next big trend.

  But before I tell you about it, it’s important to remind you that there is a limiting factor at work here: Most people have very little control over what sort of day they’re going to have. For instance, when one person says, “Have a nice day,” the other may well be thinking, “I’ve just been diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, and I’m also coughing up thick black stuff.” In this case the well-wisher’s words will fall on deaf ears.

  And so, I feel that perhaps, in the interest of realism, instead of being directed arbitrarily to have a nice day, people should simply be encouraged to do the best they can.

  It is also probably unrealistic to expect someone to have a nice day all day long. How often does that happen? The day is simply too long and comprises too many parts. One’s day may start off well enough, but quite often the niceness is difficult to sustain over an extended period of time.

  And so, instead of the now standard, and far too general, “Have a nice day,” I have devised a new, more specific system of selective, short-term well-wishing that puts much less pressure on the recipient. In my system, the time of day a person offers good wishes determines what should be said.

  As an example, under my method, if I run into an acquaintance at 9 A.M., I’m likely to say, “Have a satisfying midmorning.” I believe in getting someone off to a good start, and it’s a modest enough goal to suggest at such an early hour. Had the encounter taken place a bit earlier, I may have been inclined to offer a simple, yet cheerful, “Here’s wishing you a refreshing post-sleep phase.”

  And, turning the clock back even further, if the two of us had been out late and parted at three in the morning, I’m sure I would have told him to “Have yourself a stimulating pre-dawn.” As you can see, I’m fully prepared for any time of day.

  Twelve noon, you ask? “May your midday be crammed with unfettered joy and myriad delights.” Two in the afternoon? “I hope you experience a rewarding post-lunch.”

  Likewise as the day draws to a close. Can you guess what I tell a person at five-thirty in the afternoon? “Enjoy your sundown.” It’s short, it’s pleasant, it doesn’t demand a lot. Here’s one for the same time of day which I reserve for more serious-minded friends: “Have a profound dusk.” I like it. I feel it shows a certain respect for the other fellow’s depth of soul. Or—and this is a particular favorite of mine—“Have a challenging twilight.” I enjoy giving the other person something to struggle with just as happy hour is getting under way.

  By the way, I have a playful side as well. If my friend is a Scottish person I may say, “Have a bonnie gloaming.” But not too often; I don’t like to show off my command of foreign languages.

  Well, folks, I hope you’ve enjoyed this little explanation of my new system, but more important, I hope you’ll put it to work in your daily lives. And so now, dear reader, as we prepare to take our leave, you may be tempted to think I’ll be hard-pressed to offer a parting wish that hasn’t already been suggested. Don’t underestimate me.

  You see, I’m not limited to the short form. Occasionally, in an expansive mood, I get carried away and my rhetoric becomes ornate. And so, as we part, let me state that I hope you have a memorable tomorrow, including, but not limited to, the promising, golden hours of morning, the full, rich bloom of afternoon, and, of course, the quiet, gentle hours of evening, when time, pausing for an instant and breathing a small sigh, rushes forward to greet the newly forming day.

  I hope you appreciate the extra effort.

  LET’S KILL A TREE FOR THE KIDS

  Regarding public Christmas displays: At some point, someone who worked at Rockefeller Center must have said, “Boys, I have a great idea for Christmas. Let’s kill a beautiful tree that’s been alive for seventy-five years and bring it to New York City. We’ll stand it up in Rockefeller Plaza and conceal its natural beauty by hanging shiny, repulsive, man-made objects on it, and let it stand there slowly dying for several weeks while simpleminded children stare at it and people from Des Moines take pictures of it. That way, perhaps we can add our own special, obscene imprint to Christmas in Midtown.”

  A SORE POINT

  Regarding the criticism of Al Gore’s actions upon being elected president in 2000 and realizing that the Bush family would do everything in its power to reverse the results illegally: I recall at the time hearing some of the usual morons in this country refer to President-elect Gore as a sore loser because he sought legal redress in the
courts.

  Sore loser? You bet your fuckin’ ass! What on earth is wrong with being a sore loser? It shows you cared about whatever the contest was in the first place. Fuck losing graciously—that’s for chumps. And losers, by the way.

  Americans have just flat-out lost their spirit; you see it everywhere. Have you ever watched these hockey assholes? When the game is over, they’re forced to line up and shake hands with one another after spending three hours smashing each other in the mouth with sticks. Biggest load of shit I ever witnessed. Whatever happened to “In victory, magnanimity; in defeat, defiance.” So said Frederick the Great.

  EUPHEMISMS: Write If You Get Work

  MARX MY WORDS

  These days, people who have jobs are called members of the workforce. But I can’t help thinking the Russian Revolution would have been a lot less fun if the Communists had been running through the streets yelling, “Members of the workforces of the world, unite!”

  And I’m sure Marx and Lenin would not be pleased to know that, today, employees who refuse to work no longer go out on strikes. They engage in job actions that result in work stoppages. And if a work stoppage lasts long enough, the company doesn’t hire scabs, it brings in replacement workers.

  READY, AIM, NON-RETAIN!

  When it comes to firing people, companies try desperately to depersonalize the process so that no human being is ever seen to fire another. The language is extremely neutral, and whatever blame there is goes to something called global market forces. Fuckin’ foreigners!

  And these companies go through some truly exotic verbal gymnastics to describe what’s taking place—although I’m not sure it makes the individuals in question feel any better. After all, being fired, released or terminated would seem a lot easier to accept than being non-retained, dehired or selected out.