Love All the People (New Edition) Page 7

  I find that commercial a tad insulting to my intelligence, you know, the one ‘here’s your brain’. I’ve seen a lot of things on drugs, but I have never, ever, ever looked at an egg . . . and thought it was a fuckin’ brain, not once. I have seen UFOs split the sky like a sheet, but I have never looked at an egg and thought it was a fucking brain, not once. I have had seven balls of light come off of a UFO, lead me on to their ship, explain to me telepathically that we are all one and that there’s no such thing as death. But . . . I’ve never looked at an egg and thought it was a fuckin’ brain. Now . . . maybe I wasn’t getting good shit, but ahh . . . That’s what I hate about the war on drugs, I’ll be honest with you, it’s what I can’t stand is all day long when we see those commercials: ‘Here’s your brain, here’s your brain on drugs’, ‘Just say no’, ‘Why do you think they call it dope?’ And then the next commercial is: ‘This Bud’s for you.’ Come on everybody, let’s be hypocritical bastards. It’s OK to drink your drug. (laughs) We meant those other drugs. Those untaxed drugs. Those are the ones that are bad for ya. Nicotine, alcohol . . . good drugs. Coincidentally, taxed drugs. Oh, how does this fucking work?

  Thank God they’re taxing alcohol, man . It means we’ve got those good roads we can get fucked up and drive on. ‘Thank God they’re taxing this shit, man . . . we’d be doing doughnuts in a wheat field right now. Thank God we’re on a highway. Whoooo, this is a good drug.’ Cos I’ll tell you something, I’ll be honest, man. If I were going to legalize a drug, it sure wouldn’t have been alcohol. Sorry, there’s better drugs, and better drugs for you. That’s a fact. You may stop your internal dialogue. ‘Hmm, but Bill, alcohol’s an acceptable part of . . .’ Shut the fuck up. You’re wrong. K? K. Shit man, not only do I think marijuana should be legalized . . . I think it should be mandatory. I’m a hardliner. Think about it, man. You get in traffic behind somebody like: huuuh, huuuh. (making car horn noises)

  ‘Shut up and smoke that: it’s the law.’

  ‘Oh sorry, I was taking life seriously. Oh, man! Who’s hungry?’

  That would be a nice world, wouldn’t it? Quiet, mellow, hungry, high people everywhere. Just Dominos’ pizza trucks passing each other. Every single highway, parades of Dominos’. (car horn) Let them get stuck in traffic: all our pizzas will be free. I’m a fucking dreamer, man! But I’m not the only one. (audience cheers) Dreamers, man. Pot is a better drug than alcohol – fact! Fact. Stop your internal dialogue. ‘But Bill, alcohol’s a blah blah blah—’ Shut up! You’re wrong, get over it. K? K. I’ll prove it to you, man. You’re at a ball game, or a concert and someone’s really violent and aggressive and obnoxious. Are they drunk? Or are they smoking pot? Which is it?

  Audience: Drunk!

  Bill: They’re drunk. I have never seen people on pot get in a fight because it is fucking impossible.

  ‘Hey buddy!’

  ‘Hey what?’

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey.’

  End of argument. Say you get in a car accident, and you’ve been smoking pot . . . you’re only going four fucking miles an hour.

  (makes skidding, then crashing noise)

  ‘Shit, we hit something.’

  ‘Oh, uh-uh, uh-uh. We got rear-ended by a Dominos’ truck, man.’

  Just a better world. I’m not promoting the use of drugs. I’m just telling ya, I’ve had good times on ’em. That’s the truth. I’ve also had bad times on ’em too, OK? But I’ve had good and bad relationships, and I’m not giving up pussy.

  ‘Hi, I’m Bill and I’m a pussyholic. I like the way it smells . . . I like the way it tastes, and uh . . .’

  ‘Keep coming back, man. Keep coming, you’re in the right place.’

  I’m not proud of this moment, all right? It happened; I moved on. You know what I mean though, we need a new enemy? Cos uh we’re so miserable in our own lives we’ve got to keep pointing fingers and blaming. ‘Drugs, yeah, drugs are the enemy. Hoo, yeah, what were we thinking?’ People forget about drugs, man, people forget. People think drugs don’t do anything good for us. How many people here believe drugs don’t do anything good for us? Someone must. Chicken shits! Yeah I know, cos now they’ve got a beer, I know. If you believe drugs don’t do anything good for us, do me this favour will you? Go home tonight, take all your albums and tapes, K? And burn ’em. Cos you know what? The musicians who made all that great music . . . reeeeeeeal fucking high on drugs. Shit, the Beatles were so high they let Ringo sing a couple of tunes. Tell me they weren’t a partying. (sings) ‘We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine . . .’ We all live? You know how fucking high they were when they wrote that song? They had to pry Ringo off the ceiling with a rake to record that, man.

  ‘Get Ringo, John, he’s got a great tune. Pull him down to the mic.’

  ‘John, get Ringo. He’s got a great song about we all live in a yellow tambourine or something, I don’t know.’

  ‘Fuck John, get off the ceiling.’

  ‘Ah fuck, let’s bring the mics up here. We’ll sing from up on the clouds.’

  They were real high. Great music, they were high, drugs had a positive effect. Shall I walk you through it again? Aaaah! Gotta have an enemy though. Cos we’re so miserable we’ve got to keep blaming something, right. Let’s blame some more stuff. Drugs, good. Rock’n’roll. Every few years rock’n’roll becomes the big enemy doesn’t it? Like this Judas Priest trial, did you follow this? You know the story? Two kids, big fans of Judas Priest, listened to this album and then went out and killed themselves. And the parents sued the band, Judas Priest. OK, first of all two kids, big fans of Judas Priest,17 commit suicide. Wow! . . . Two less gas station attendants in the world. I don’t want to sound cold or anything, but ah . . . we didn’t lose a cancer cure here. And hey, most stations are self-service now anyway so; we saved them a long troublesome job search. BUT! They tried to prove there were subliminal messages on this album telling you to kill yourself. Now, I may be naive, but ah, what performer wants his audience dead? I’m having trouble with the whole fucking theory. What are these guys in the band doing?

  ‘I’m fucking sick of it, I am fucking sick of it. I’m sick of the touring, I’m sick of making 400,000 dollars a fucking night. I’m sick of the free drugs, the free booze and the groupies blowing me dawn to fucking dust. I’m in a rut and I want out.’

  ‘We’ve got all those concerts coming up.’

  ‘I know, it sucks. Unless . . . Ian, Nigel, come here. I just had a fucking idea, man. What if, Ian, what if, let’s just say what if . . . open your mind real wide now. What if we kill the fucking audience? Could I go back to my day job? I could sell shoes again.’

  It just doesn’t make a lot of sense. When you talk it through. But every few years these little . . . they try and nail rock’n’roll. Remember this shit: if you play certain rock albums backwards there’s satanic messages? Let me tell you something, if you’re sitting round your house playing your albums backwards, you are Satan. You needn’t look any further. And don’t go ruining my stereo to prove a fucking point either.

  ‘Come here, come here, listen. (makes snorting, growling noises) Can you hear that? Listen.’

  ‘Hey cut it out. That’s brand new, man. What the fuck are you doing?’

  ‘No, shut up. Listen, real close. (growling) Can you hear that? It’s crystal clear. “Satan is lord, Satan is lord.” It’s like he’s in the room.’

  (makes growling noises again)

  ‘Oh my God, you’re Satan! Aargh!’

  Satan! Ruiner of stereos, destroyer of needles! Because, listen, I’ve got an idea. It’s time to make a bold admission, all right? Because for the last ten years we’ve seen the rise of conservatives and fundamentalists and other forms of (takes deep gasp) fascist, OK? Who try and tell us what to believe and what to think. I’ve got a bold admission if you’re one of those people, are you ready for it? They say rock’n’roll is the devil’s music. Well, let’s say that we know for a fact that rock’n’roll is the Devil’s
music. And we know that it is for sure, OK? At least he fucking jams! If it’s a choice between eternal hell and good tunes, or eternal heaven and New Kids on the fucking Block . . . I’m gonna be surfin’ on the lake of fire, rocking out. Do you know if you play New Kids on the Block albums backwards, they sound better? Gives them that edge they’re missing, ya know, puts some hair on their balls.

  But we’ve got to have an enemy. Rock? Drugs? We’re so miserable, what’s the enemy? Got it. Pornography, that’s it. Yeeeeah, tremor through the room. Uh . . . the problem with pornography, basically, is this. No one knows what it is. Other than that, we’ve got a real good grasp on the situation. We know it’s bad, we just can’t figure out what the fuck it is. The Supreme Court says pornography is any act that has no artistic merit and causes sexual thoughts.18 That’s their definition. No artistic merit. Causes sexual thoughts. Hmmmmm. Sounds like almost every commercial on TV to me. You know when I see those two twins on that Double Mint commercial? I’m almost embarrassed to tell you this. Aaaah . . . I ain’t thinking about gum.

  (sings) ‘Double your pleasure, double that fun.’

  ‘Yeah honey, where’s the Wrigley’s? I feel like chewing on something.’

  Every commercial. Here’s a commercial they’d like to do. If they could, they’d do it. Here is the ultimate television commercial. We might see it one day yet. Here’s the woman’s face, beautiful. Camera pulls back, naked breast. Camera pulls back, she’s totally naked, legs apart, two fingers right here, and it just says: ‘Drink Coke’. Now I don’t know the connection, but I’m drinking lots of fucking Coke! Snickers! Dr Pepper! . . . No I don’t know the connection. Yes, I’m buying these fucking products. But you know, what does that say about us, man? Causes sexual thoughts is the subject of fear? Causes sexual thoughts. Yeah? . . . so? . . . and? . . . what? When did sex become a bad thing? Did I miss a meeting? Playboy – pornography – causes sexual thoughts. Penthouse – pornography – causes sexual thoughts. You know what causes sexual thoughts when it’s all said and done? Let’s cut to the chase; I’m tired of the debate, OK? I’ll clear it up for ya mmm right fucking now. Here’s what causes sexual thoughts . . . having a dick. End of story. I can speak for every guy here tonight, aaaand, OK I will. In the course of our day ANYTHING can cause a sexual fucking thought. You can be on a train, and it’s rocking kinda nice. Pants are a little tight. Oh my God, I’ve got a woody! I got a woody on the El train. What are we gonna do, ban public transportation? I find it ironic that people who are against sexual thoughts are generally these fundamentalist Christians who also believe you should be fruitful and multiply. It seems like they would support sexual thoughts, you know, perhaps even have a centrefold in the Bible. Miss Deuteronomy. Turn offs: floods, locusts, smokers. I actually did that joke in Alabama, right. These three rednecks met me after the show, man. ‘Hey, buddy! Come here. Hey, Mr Comedian! Come here. Hey, buddy, we’re Christians, we don’t like what you said.’ I said, ‘Then forgive me.’ It seemed so obvious. You know? But we’ve gotta have an enemy, man. I’m tired of enemies; I’ll be honest with you. I’m sick of enemies. I got no fucking enemies, K? K. It’s just a strange world; I don’t know what we choose, why we choose the things we do as a collective. You ever wondered that? You know what I mean, the fact that we live in a world where John Lennon was murdered, yet Milli Vanilli walks the fucking planet. You know? Bad choice. Just from me to you, it wasn’t a good one. But isn’t that weird, we always kill the guys who try and help us. Isn’t that strange, that we let the little demons run amok, always? John Lennon: murdered. John Kennedy: murdered. Martin Luther King: murdered. Ghandi: murdered. Jesus: murdered. Reagan . . . wounded. You know. Bad fucking choice.

  But even though that’s the case, where we live in a world where good men are murdered and little demons run amok, I’m sorry I still believe it isn’t; in fact I had a vision of a way we could have no enemies ever again, if you’re interested in this. Anybody interested in hearing this? It’s kind of an interesting theory, and all we have to do is make one decisive act and we can rid the world of all our enemies at once. Here’s what we do. You know all that money we spend on nuclear weapons and defence every year? Trillions of dollars. Instead, if we spent that money feeding and clothing the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded . . . not one . . . we could as one race explore outer space together in peace, for ever. Thank you very much. You’re great.

  (sound of three gun shots)

  Recorded Live at Funny Bone,

  Pittsburgh, PA

  (20 June 1991)19

  Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Hope you’re doing well tonight. I’m glad to be here. I been on the road doing comedy now for ah ten years, so bear with me while I plaster on a fake smile and plough through this shit one more time . . .Teasing, it’s magic every show.

  Ah, fuck. Summertime . . . summertime blues is what I have. You know why? Don’t like the fucking summertime, K? Think it sucks. Hot – sticky – sucks; hot – sticky – sucks. K? K. People love the summertime, cos people are (makes bleating noise) sheep. Good! Good answer, sir. Thank you. ‘It’s summertime and it’s so good. It’s hot and sticky, uh-huh.’ I don’t fucking get it, man. Gotta retire all my cool jackets for another fuckin’ season, you know. I don’t have to do that, but I don’t wanna be, you know, hanging out in a leather jacket . . . in 90 degrees. That ain’t cool, it’s . . . HOT AND STICKY! Yes, sir, thank you. Good answer. Everyone goes to the beach. What is the— what is the— I don’t get the bea— ‘Where you going, the beach? God, I love to go the beach. Man, we could just go to the beach. God. What you wanna do? Go to the beach? Yeah! Uh, if I could live at the beach. Could you imagine that? Living at the beach?’ What’s the fucking deal with— it’s where dirt meets water, all right? Chill out. That’s it. End of fascination. I gotta bathtub and an imagination. I’m staying indoors this summer, all right? That way I can listen to music I like.

  I don’t know, maybe I’m jealous. Everyone at the beach is perfect: tan, white teeth. I got white skin, tan teeth, you know. Not my environment. You put me under a neon beer light, I look pretty fucking cool. Particularly if it’s one of those blinking ones – whoo! Stud muffin. The fucking beach.

  I’m so pale, man, I take my shirt off at the beach, it’s like a prism. People are just: ‘Bill, put your shirt back on! We can’t find our towels!’ All these moths are bumping into me. Boy, moths are weird. You ever wonder what moths bumped into before electric lightbulbs were invented? Boy, the lightbulb really fucked the moth up, didn’t it? First lightbulb ever turned on – billions of moths (makes banging noise). What, I don’t get the appeal. What’s the fucking deal with that, huh? What did they do before light– are there moths on the way to the sun right now, going, ‘It’s gonna be worth it.’ It’s a hell of a commute, man . . . and I don’t wish that upon my little MOTH BUDDIES!

  I just don’t feel well, man. I had to set my alarm for this show, so it gives you an idea what kind of excitement I lead during the day. I just don’t . . . I don’t fit in anywhere, man. I really don’t. I don’t agree with anything either, not even with what I just said, so I think you see the fucking problem here. I’m stranded without a fucking clue, and I’m gonna say ‘fuck’ 8 million times, so keep, keep track . . . somebody. My dad: ‘Bill, do you have to say the ‘f’ word in your act, son? Bob Hope doesn’t need to use the ‘f’ word in his act.’ ‘Yeah, well, dad, guess what, Bob Hope doesn’t play the shit-holes I play all right? You put him in some of these joints, he’ll have Emmanuel Lewis20 and Phyllis Diller sixty-nining as his closer . . . just to get out of there alive.’

  I smoke ah . . . if this bothers anyone, I recommend you looking around the world in which we live and shutting your fucking mouth. Take that home with ya. I got some news to tell you tonight. Very exciting news. For non-smokers? Oh, I can’t wait to tell y’all this cos I know you don’t know this . . . and I feel it’s my duty to pass on information at all times so th
at that way we can all evolve quicker. Non-smokers, you ready? This, by the way, is a fact too. Non-smokers, ready? Drum roll. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Non-smokers die every day. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! O-ho, sleep tight. Oh, the truth which shall set you free. I know that you non-smokers entertain some type of eternal life fantasy because you don’t smoke cigarettes. Well let me be the first to (makes exploding noise) pop that fucking bubble and send you about your way with some little truth: you’re gonna fucking die. OK? OK. Love ya! Shut the fuck up. And you know what doctors say: ‘Shit, if only you’d smoked. We’d have the technology to help ya.’ It’s you people dying from nothing that are screwed. I got all sorts of neat gadgets waiting for me. Iron lung, oxygen tent, it’s like Christmas. S’weird man. People say the dumbest things, too. ‘Hey you quit smoking, you get your sense of smell back.’ I live in New York City. I don’t want my fucking sense of smell back. (sniffs) Is that urine? (sniffs) I think I smell a dead fella. Where’s that coming— look, honey, a dead fella. I found him. Thank God I quit smoking: I can find dead fellas in urine puddles. (sniffs) Oooo, I love living in New York.