George Carlin - Napalm and Silly Putty

“Isn’t he nice? He is so nice. And she’s nice too! Isn’t that nice? How nice they are!”

I don’t care for it. It’s like “fine.” Another weak word.

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

Bullshit! Nobody’s fine. Hair is fine.

“How’s your hair?

“Fine.”

That makes more sense to me.

Some guys are “great”! You ever meet those guys?

“This is great! Isn’t this great? Goddamn, this is great! Look, they’re gonna kill that guy! Isn’t that great?”

Not me. I’m not nice, I’m not fine, I’m not great. People ask me how I am, I don’t give them any superlatives; nothing to gossip about. I tell them I’m “fairly decent.” Or “relatively okay.” I might say, “I’m moderately neato.” And if I’m in a particularly jaunty mood, I’ll tell them, “I’m not unwell, thank you.”

That one always pisses them off. Because they have to figure it out for themselves.

We have so many ways of saying hello. Howdy, hi there, how are ya, how ya doin’, how’s it goin’, how do ya do, what’s new, what’s goin’ on, whaddaya think, whaddaya hear, whaddaya say, whaddaya feel, what’s happenin’, what’s shakin’, que pasa, what’s goin’ down, and what it is?

You know my favorite? “How’s your hammer hangin’?” That’s a good one, isn’t it? Doesn’t work too well with women, though. Unless you’re talking to a lady carpenter. Then it’s perfectly acceptable.

I’ve always wanted to use that one on a high church official.

“Good evening, Your Holiness. How hangs thy hammer?”

So far, I haven’t had the opportunity.

There’s one form of saying hello that bothers me. It’s when a guy says, “Are they keepin’ you busy?” It’s like he thinks someone has the right to come around and give me odd jobs.

Whenever a guy says, “Are they keeping you busy?” I always tell him, “Well, your wife is keeping me pretty busy!” And that seems to hold him for about a half an hour.

Of course, we also have many ways to say good-bye. Bye-bye, so long, see you later, ta-ta, be cool, take it easy, stay loose, hang in, take care, and keep on truckin’. You know my favorite? “Don’t get run over.” Well, I find some people need practical advice.

Occasionally, someone will say to me, “Have a good one!” I just laugh and say, “I already have a good one. Now I’m looking for a longer one!” And that seems to hold them for about a half an hour.

Then there are all the foreign ways we say good-bye. Some people when they leave you, they think they have to get fancy. They whip an “arrivederci” on you. Or an “au revoir.” Some guys say, “adios.” Or the American version, “Adios, motherfucker!”

In Hawaii they say, “aloha.” That’s a nice one. It means both “hello”and “good-bye.” Which just goes to show, if you spend enough time in the sun you don’t know whether you’re coming or going.

Do you ever get in a rut with your manner of saying good-bye and find yourself using the same phrase, over and over? And you begin to feel a little stupid?

For instance, if you’re leaving a party, and you have to say good-bye to five or six people standing in a group, you say, “Okay, hey, take it easy. Okay, hey, take it easy. Okay, hey, take it easy. Okay, hey, take it easy. Okay, hey, take it easy. Okay, hey, take it easy.” And you feel like a goddamn moron.

You know what I do? Every month, whether I need to or not, I change the way I say good-bye; I start using a different phrase. People like that. They notice that little extra effort. They’ll say to me, “Pardon me, but didn’t you used to say ‘Okay, hey, take it easy’?”

And I say, “Yes I did. But not anymore. Now I say, ‘Farewell! Farewell, till we meet again. May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house!’” That’s a strong one, isn’t it? People will remember you if you talk like that.

Sometimes, for a joke, you can combine several ways of saying good-bye that don’t seem to go together. Like “Toodle-oo, go with God, and don’t take any wooden nickels.” Then people don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.

Or you can choose to say good-bye in a realistic manner. “So long, Steve. Don’t let self-doubt interfere with your plans to improve your life.”

Well, some people need practical advice.

Have you noticed that quite often when you leave someone they ask you to relay an affectionate message to someone else? They’ll say, “Give my love to Klaus. Tell Klaus Rebecca sends her love.”

Do you mind that? Do you mind being used that way? The awesome responsibility of carrying Rebecca’s love to Klaus? Suppose you don’t see Klaus? What do you do with Rebecca’s love? Carry it around? Give it to someone else?

“Wilhelm! I can’t find Klaus, here’s some of Rebecca’s love.”

Suppose Wilhelm doesn’t know Rebecca? Can he legally accept her love? Especially when it was originally intended for Klaus?

Or suppose you give Wilhelm Rebecca’s love for Klaus, and then you run into Klaus, what do you give him? All you had was Rebecca’s love, and you’ve already gone and given that to Wilhelm. Can you reasonably ask Wilhelm to give back Rebecca’s love? Maybe he’s gotten used to it by now. Can Klaus sue Wilhelm? Can Wilhelm be arrested? Can you be arrested for transporting love across a state line?

All right, back to reality. Just for the sake of argument, let’s leave Wilhelm out of this altogether. Suppose Rebecca gives you her love to give to Klaus, and you do see Klaus, what form should the love take? Can you risk giving Klaus a tongue kiss? Which brings up another possibility: maybe Klaus is gay. Klaus doesn’t want Rebecca’s love, Klaus wants Wilhelm’s love! If Klaus tells you to give his love to Wilhelm, just tell him, “Bullshit, Klaus. You give your own love to Wilhelm. I’m going to find Rebecca!”

Now, sometimes people don’t quite want you to give their love to someone else; they only want you to give their “regards.” That’s all they’re sending that day. Regards. That’s not as important as love, is it? No. By the way, do you always relay the type of affection the sender intends? I don’t. Generally, I wait till the last minute and then decide what the other person deserves.

For instance, Susan might say to me, “Give my love to Dave.” Well, I might not feel Dave is deserving of Susan’s love. Dave might be one of those people who piss me off. I’ll probably just give him a few regards; keep him in his place. I feel it’s my decision. After all, I’m the one who’s doing all the work.

And if I really don’t like the recipient, I might reduce the level of affection by an even greater degree. Susan might say, “Give all my love to Dave and tell him I can’t wait to see him again so I can hold him in my arms, kiss his sweet, soft lips, and make love to him all night.” And I’ll say, “Dave! Susan says hello.” Screw Dave! That’s what he gets for pissing me off.

Then there are the recipients who try to anticipate what degree of affection they’re going to receive.

“Did Susan send her love?”

“No, Dave. She only sent her regards.”

“That’s funny, usually she sends her love.”

“Well, not this time. In fact, she specifically told me, ‘Don’t give Dave any of my love.’ It seems she’s running short of love and has to be careful whom she gives it to. However, she did say she’s overstocked with regards and wants you to have a whole bunch of them. So, be satisfied, Dave. Take your regards, and get the fuck out of my life!”