I was on the roof cleaning and repairing gutters as well as working on the deck (and recuperating from oral surgery, more on that later), so I was utterly away from the TV or computer all weekend. What a shock to come in Monday morning and find that George Carlin had died. He was one funny motherfucker, and he'll be greatly missed.
To listen to his albums chronologically is quite the evolutionary story. His first couple of records are just him being funny with wacky observations and pot humor and the like. Cool and sweet, but nothing heavy. After a bit, he started brining in the intellectual stuff, the fiddling with language stuff, and the rebellious stuff. Throughout his work, there is a rising tide of anger that got worse with age.
Specifically in his later years, after the death of his wife, pain and anger were too much in the driver's seat, I thought, and his last few albums I can't listen to more than once or twice. They say a cynic is just a romantic with a broken heart, and with Carlin that brokenness is clearly obvious. The problem I have with those last few albums comes from a.) not being that angry myself and b.) the human discomfort from watching another person's pain.
Adios, George. You'll most definitely be missed.