George Carlin, RIP

My wife told me early this morning that George Carlin died last night of a heart attack. I’m truly saddened; shocked but not surprised. The man had a history of heart disease, going back at least twenty-five years, due primarily to self-destructive behavior in the form of drug abuse. As the first host of SNL in 1975, he admitted to being on cocaine for a whole week straight. Actually, I am surprised that he survived this long. I read that he had worked the previous weekend.

I found him hilarious; I even owned a CD of his that brought me to tears whenever I listened to it. I kick myself that I passed on an opportunity to see him live a few years back. In the 80s my brother and I would tape his HBO specials – they were always, always side-splitting funny. Until recently, however. I remember watching one of his last specials about two years ago with a buddy who was not quite a fan (I had to convince him to watch it with me) and was really disappointed. Sad, actually; my jaw dropped in disbelief. Carlin was extremely depressed, bitter, and angry without an ounce of satirical humor behind it. He spent the majority of the special making what I suppose he thought were jokes about death and suicide. When my wife told me of his demise, I actually wondered if he took his own life.

He was a sharp critic of the Catholic Church. I don’t hold that against him; I still listened to him or watched him on TV whenever I could. Whenever he did get on an anti-Catholic rant, I merely tuned him out. He was entitled to his opinion, just as much as I’m entitled to disregard it (a disturbingly large amount of men do not understand this sentence). I am reminded of a quote by Fulton Sheen: “There are not a hundred people in America who hate the Catholic Church. There are millions of people who hate what they wrongly believe to be the Catholic Church – which is, of course, quite a different thing.” I do think Carlin falls into this category. Religion and liberal politics aside, most of his work was brilliant; his commentaries on the English language is some of the most fascinating and entertaining stuff I’ve ever heard.

I do sincerely hope that he reconciled himself with his Maker in the hours, or days, or weeks, months, years – whatever, no one can truly know the state of another’s soul – before he was called home.

Rest in peace.