George Carlin - Napalm and Silly Putty

Most of the time people feel okay. Probably it’s because at that moment they’re not actually dying.

You know what I like about the American form of government? They’ve worked things out so that you’re never far from a 7-Eleven.

You know what you never hear about? A bunch of Jews being hit by a tornado.

Don’t you hate it when people send you unsolicited pictures of their kids? What’s that all about? It bothers me. I hate to keep throwing away perfectly good pictures.

When I see a guy with hair on his back I immediately relegate him to the animal kingdom.

Every six minutes there’s a rape in this country, and boy, is my dick sore. I’m tellin’ ya, every day, house to house, there’s no letup. It’s a fuckin’ hassle.

I haven’t eaten an ice cream sandwich in forty-seven years.

Next time you see Bing Crosby playing a priest in a movie, picture him beating his children in real life.

I’ve never been quarantined. But the more I look around the more I think it might not be a bad idea.

Here’s some fun:Run into a bakery and ask if they can bake a cake in the shape of a penis. They’re never quite sure; they always have to have a meeting.

“Well, I don’t know. Wait just a moment.”

While they’re talking, pull out your schwanz and wave it all around.

“Good Lord, Helen! Quick! Order extra flour!”

I don’t think we should be governing ourselves. What we need is a king, and every now and then if the king’s not doing a good job, we kill him.

So far, this is the oldest I’ve been.

I think someone could make a lot of money if they set up a little stand at the Grand Canyon and sold Yo-Yos with 500-foot strings.

Road rage, air rage. Why should I be forced to divide my rage into separate categories? To me, it’s just one big, all-around, everyday rage. I don’t have time for fine distinctions. I’m busy screaming at people.

There’s something I like about the clitoris, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

Driving is fun. Did you ever run over a guy? And then you panic? So you back up and run over him again? You ever notice the second crunch is not as loud as the first? I think it’s because the guy already has tread marks on him. But there he is, lyin’ right in front of your car. Might as well run over him again. What’re you gonna do this time, drive around him?

When Ronald Reagan got Alzheimer’s disease, how could they tell?

Sometimes they say the winds are calm. Well, if they’re calm, they’re not really winds, are they?

I think a good title for a travel book would be Doorway to Norway

Next time they give you all that civic bullshit about voting, keep in mind that Hitler was elected in a full, free democratic election.

Would somebody please tell me what is so sacred about the Lincoln Bedroom? If it were the Ulysses S. Grant Bedroom, do you think people would’ve been as annoyed that Clinton rented it out to campaign donors? No. It’s just the bullshit Lincoln myth that caused the uproar.

Why do they keep trotting out this Billy Graham character? He has nothing to say, and basically no one gives a fuck.

Murder investigators say that in most cases husbands kill wives, wives kill husbands, children kill parents, and parents kill children. Thank God for a little sanity in the world.

Regarding the Boy Scouts, I’m very suspicious of any organization that has a handbook.

If there really are multiple universes, what do they call the thing they’re all a part of?

Where did this idea come from that if you’re a celebrity, and something bad happens to you, you have to devote your life to eliminating the same problem for everyone else? Michael J. Fox, Christopher Reeve, Mary Tyler Moore; they all work on curing their own afflictions. Why doesn’t a celebrity with milk leg ever do something about dandy fever? How about an actor with woolsorter’s disease raising money for the victims of swimming pool granuloma? That’s the trouble with Hollywood, no imagination.

Instead of warning pregnant women not to drink, I think female alcoholics ought to be told not to fuck.

Something else I’m getting tired of in this country is all this stupid bullshit I have to listen to about children. That’s all you hear anymore, children: “Help the children, save the children, protect the children.” You know what I say? Fuck the children! Fuck ’em! Fuck kids; they’re getting entirely too much attention.

And I know what some of you are thinking: “Jesus, he’s not going to attack children, is he?” Yes he is! He’s going to attack children. And remember, this is Mr. Conductor talking; I know what I’m talking about.

And I also know that all you boring single dads and working moms, who think you’re such fuckin’ heroes, aren’t gonna like this, but somebody’s gotta tell you for your own good: your children are overrated and over valued, and you’ve turned them into little cult objects. You have a child fetish, and it’s not healthy. And don’t give me all that weak shit, “Well, I love my children.” Fuck you! Everybody loves their children; it doesn’t make you special.

John Wayne Gacy loved his children. Yes, he did. He kept ’em all right out in the yard, near the garage. That’s not what I’m talking about. What I’m talking about is this constant, mindless yammering in the media, this neurotic fixation that suggests somehow everything— everything —has to revolve around the lives of children. It’s completely out of balance.

Let’s Get Real

Listen, there are a couple of things about kids you have to remember. First of all, they’re not all cute. In fact, if you look at ’em real close, most of them are rather unpleasant looking. And a lot of them don’t smell too good either. The little ones in particular seem to have a kind of urine and sour-milk combination that I don’t care for at all. Stay with me on this folks, the sooner you face it the better off you’re gonna be.

Second premise: not all children are smart and clever. Got that? Kids are like any other group of people: a few winners, a whole lot of losers! This country is filled with loser kids who simply… aren’t… going anywhere! And there’s nothing you can do about it, folks. Nothing! You can’t save ’em all. You can’t do it. You gotta let ’em go; you gotta cut ’em loose; you gotta stop overprotecting them, because you’re making ’em too soft. Today’s kids are way too soft.

Safe and Sorry

For one thing, there’s too much emphasis on safety and safety equipment: childproof medicine bottles, fireproof pajamas, child restraints, car seats. And helmets! Bicycle, baseball, skateboard, scooter helmets. Kids have to wear helmets now for everything but jerking off. Grown-ups have taken all the fun out of being a kid, just to save a few thousand lives. It’s pathetic.

What’s happened is, these baby boomers, these soft, fruity baby boomers, have raised an entire generation of soft, fruity kids who aren’t even allowed to have hazardous toys, for Chrissakes! Hazardous toys, shit! Whatever happened to natural selection? Survival of the fittest? The kid who swallows too many marbles doesn’t grow up to have kids of his own. Simple stuff. Nature knows best!

We’re saving entirely too many lives in this country—of all ages! Nature should be permitted to do its job weeding out and killing off the weak and sickly and ignorant people, without interference from airbags and batting helmets. We’re lowering the human gene pool! If these ideas bother you, just think of them as passive eugenics.