When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?

Copyright 2004 Comedy Concepts, Inc.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data ISBN 1-4013-0134-7

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1 IRST EDITION

This book is dedicated to my amazing daughter, Kelly: keeper of the sacred DNA, citizen of the universe, and one of America’s few really good Buddhist poker players.

Major funding for this book was made possible by deliberately starving a family of four in Tennessee.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Everlasting thanks to my editor, Gretchen Young, who withstood a last barrage of changes and pulled everything together. She also did an outstanding job protecting me from certain evil people in the publishing company who were jealous of my nice teeth and never stopped plotting against me.

All love to my troll-mate, the sweet Sara Jane.

uOf course the people don’t want war. But after all, it’s the leaders of the country who determine the policy, and it’s always a simple matter to drag the people along whether it’s a democracy, a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism, and exposing the country to greater danger.”

HERMANN GORING AT THE NUREMBERG TRIALS

“All tears are the same.”

IRISH WOMAN

uSo little time. So little to do.”

OSCAR LEVANT

“The main obligation is to amuse yourself.”

S. J. PERELMAN

“Today his another day. Time to play.”

SALLY WADE

PREFACE

I’m an outsider by choice, but not truly. It’s the unpleasantness of the system that keeps me out. I’d rather be in, in a good system. That’s where my discontent comes from: being forced to choose to stay outside.

My advice: Just keep movin’ straight ahead. Every now and then you find yourself in a different place.

George’s Holiday Message

Since this book comes out in the fall, I’d like to take advantage of this early opportunity to wish all of you an enjoyable Christmas season and a happy New Year filled with good fortune. Of course, I realize this can’t happen for everyone. Some of you are going to die next year, and others will be crippled and maimed in accidents, perhaps even completely paralyzed. Still others will be stricken with diseases that can’t be cured, or will be horribly scarred in fires. And let’s not forget the robberies and rapesthere’ll be lots of them. Therefore, many of you will not get to enjoy the happy and fortunate New Year I’m wishing for you. So just try to do the best you can.

A Note of Appreciation

FROM THE DESK OF:

-sS

SPOT WADE

On the occasion of the publication of his new book, When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?, I want to wish the author good luck and let the readers know that as my rep and personal assistant hired to deny rumors of my marriage and subsequent same-sex divorce to Sir Elton Johns dog, Arthur, and how now I’m an expectant dadGeorge Carlin was easy to woik with and followed instructions wellalthough he was often tardy, with lame excuses like “other things to do.”

Similar to that of a cocker spaniel, who wants nothing’ more than our complete and undivided attention, his personality is pleasant, well-tolerated, and meets with my approvalexcept for the time when, like Jesus, he forgot to bi ing the pork chops. But now’s not the time to dwell on food. Well. . . maybe it is.

At any rate, I’m proud that one of my employeesespecially you, Mr. Carlinhas demonstrated that you’re more than just a flash in the pan, as is so often the case with seared tuna. And by the wayas long as were still talkin’ about foodregardin’ Jesus bringin’ the pork chops, lemme know when they finally arrive. Well cat them religiously, and enjoy a fine glass of

wine.

What are you lookin’ at?

him

WHEN WILL

JESUS

BRING THE PORK CHOPS?

A MODERN MAN

I’m a modern man, digital and smoke-free; a man for the millennium.

A diversified, multicultural,

post-modern deconstructionist;

politically, anatomically and ecologically incorrect.

I’ve been uplinked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading.

I’m a high-tech lowlife.

A cutting-edge, state-ofthe-art,

bi-coastal multi-tasker,

and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.

I’m new-wave, but I’m old-school; and my inner child is outward-bound.

I’m a hot-wired, heat-seeking, warm-hearted cool customer; voice-activated and biodegradable.

I interface with my database;

my database is in cyberspace;

so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive,

and from time to time I’m radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin’ the wave, dodgin the bullet, pushin’ the envelope.

I’m on point, on task, on message, and off drugs.

I’ve got no need for coke and speed; I’ve got no urge to binge and purge.

I’m in the moment, on the edge, over the top, but under the radar.

A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary.

A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom-feeder.

I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps, I run victory laps.

I’m a totally ongoing, big-foot, slam-dunk rainmaker with a pro-active outreach.

A raging workaholic, a working rageaholic; out of rehab and in denial.

I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, and a personal agenda.

You can’t shut me up; you cant dumb me down.

Cause I’m tireless, and I’m wireless. Fm an alpha-male on beta-blockers.

I’m a nonbeliever, I’m an overachiever; Laid-back and fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home; low-rent, high-maintenance.

I’m super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built to last.

A hands-on, footloose, knee-jerk head case;

prematurely posttraumatic,

and I have a love child who sends me hate-mail

But Tm feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing. A supportive, bonding, nurturing primary-care giver.

My output is down, but my income is up. I take a short position on the long bond, and my revenue stream has its own cash flow.

I read junk mail, I eat junk food,

I buy junk bonds, I watch trash sports.

I’m gender-specific, capital-intensive, user-friendly and lactose-intolerant.

I like rough sex; I like tough love. I use the f-word in my email. And the software on my hard drive is hard-coreno soft porn.

I bought a microwave at a mini-mall. I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast food in the slow lane.

I’m toll-free, bite-size, ready-to-wear, and I come in all sizes.

A fully equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle.

I’ve been pre-washed, pre-cooked, preheated, pre-screened, pie-approved, prepackaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped and vacuum-packed.

And … I have unlimited broadband capacity.

I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean.

Cocked, locked and ready to rock; rough, tough and hard to bluff.

I take it slow, I go with the flow;

I ride with the tide, I’ve got glide in my stride.

Drivin’ and movin’, sailin’ and spinnin’; jivin’ and groovin’, wailin’ and winnin’.

I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal

and the rubber on the road.

I party hearty, and lunchtime is crunch time.

I’m hangin1 in, there ain’t no doubt; and I’m hangin tough. Over and out.

EUPHEMISMS: It’s a Whole New Language

Euphemistic language turns up in many areas of American life in a variety of situations. Not all euphemisms are alike, but they have one thing in common: They obscure meaning rather than enhance it; they shade the truth. But they exist for various reasons.

Sometimes they simply replace a word that makes people uncomfortable. For instance, the terms white meat, dark meat and drumstick came into use because in Victorian times people didn’t like to mention certain body parts. No one at the dinner table really wanted to hear Uncle Herbert say, “Never mind the thighs, Margaret, let me have one of those nice, juicy breasts. “It would’ve made them uncomfortable.

And at the same time, for the same reason, belly became stomach. But even stomach sounded too intimate, so they began saying tummy. It’s actually a bit sad.

I first became aware of euphemisms when I was nine years old. I was in the living room with my mother and my aunt Lil when I mentioned that Lil had a mole on her face. My mother was quick to point out that Lil didn’t have a mole, she had a beauty mark.

That confused me because, looking at Lil, the beauty mark didn’t seem to be working. And it confused me further, because my uncle John also had a brown thing on his face, and it was clearly not a beauty mark. And so on that day, I discovered that on some people what appeared to be moles were actually beauty marks. And as it turned out, they were the same people whose laugh lines looked a lot like crow’s-feet.

By the way, that whole beauty-mark scam worked so well that some women routinely began using eyebrow pencils to apply fake beauty marksa “fake mole’ being something no self-respecting woman would ever think of giving herself. Somehow, I can’t imagine Elizabeth Taylor turning to Joan Crawford and saying, “Lend me your eyebrow pencil, Joanie, I’m gonna put a fake mole on my face.”

By the way, it was only a few years after the Aunt Lil incident that I took comfort in the fact that some people apparently thought my ugly pimples were nothing more than minor skin blemishes.

Another role euphemisms play is to simply put a better face on things, to dress up existing phrases that sound too negative. Nonprofit became not-for-profit, because nonprofit sounded too much as though someone didn’t know what they were doing. Not-for-profit makes it clear that there was never any intention of making a profit in the first place.

But some words that are euphemized aren’t even vaguely negative, they re merely considered too ordinary. For that reason, many things that used to be free are now complimentary. Asking the hotel clerk if the newspapers are free makes you sound like a mooch, but “Are the newspapers complimentary?’ allows you to retain some small bit of dignity. This is the reason some hotels offer their guests complimentary continental breakfasts, while others give their customers free doughnuts.

If you’re one who would enjoy a closer look at euphemisms, you 11 find a

number of sections in the book that will interest you. I broke the euphemisms into segments, because they play such a large and varied role in American speech. And I call it The New Language, because it’s certainly new to me; I know I didn’t grow up with it. And that’s my larger point: that it’s gotten worse over time. There were probably a few early signs I noticed, but 1 knew the problem was getting serious when I began to hear ordinary people refer to ideas as concepts. More to come.

STIFF UPPER LIP, YOU KNOW

Imagine two different commercial airliners taking long, fatal plunges directly into the ground from high altitudes. One is a British Airways plane filled with staid English diplomats and upper-class landed gentry. The other plane is Alitalia, filled with uneducated Sicilian, Greek and Turkish peasants. As the two planes dive toward certain destruction, which one do you think will have the louder screaming and the more colorful praying, cursing and blasphemy? You get one guess. Hint: It isn’t the British plane.

Eye Blaster: Get One Now

Are your eyes dry and itchy? It’s possible you may have dry, itchy eyes. Don’t take a chance. Call now for Eye Blaster, a special, self-powered unit that blasts hot, refreshing steam directly into the eyes to relieve symptoms fast. Just plug in the Eye Blaster and wait forty-five minutes for full heat and steam pressure to build up. Then blast the scalding hot steam directly into your eyes for thirty to forty minutes. Submerge your head immediately in ice water for fifteen

minutes, then repeat the steam treatment. Repeat these steps seven times and then take a breather. Do not use more than fifteen times in one twenty-four-hour period. Children under five should not use Eye Blaster unsupervised. When using on pets, tie pet to a chair before blasting. Safe for old people. Doctor approved, but not eye doctors. Call now.

HAND ME MY PURSE

Boxing is an activity in which each of two men, by delivering a series of repeated, sharp blows to the head, attempts to render the other senseless, leaving him lying on the floor, unable to act rationally, defend himself or even stand up. If one of the two men is knocked down and beaten into an only partially blank and helpless mental state, the other is made to stand aside and the contest is halted momentarily, while the damaged man regains just enough strength to stand up and have the beating continueto the point where he is again lying on the floor, this time completely immobile and functionless. Afterward, the two men embrace in a display of good sportsmanship.

REMEMBER YOUR UNCLE JOHN?

Hi Billy. I’m Uncle John. I came up to say goodnight. You remember your Uncle John, don’t you? You remember the time I took you down to the beach and we set the hot dog stand on fire and three people died? Wasn’t that fun? Remember run-nin’ away from the police? And how we hid in the sewer and Uncle John got poopoo all over him? And he wiped it on your coat? You remember? And then I took you to the bar and got drunk and vomited on the jukebox? And sparks started