COLUMN: Michael Paskevich

MICHAEL PASKEVICH

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George Carlin has regained his consistently caustic stance during his shows at Bally's.

     It's been 15 months since my last review of comedian/social commentator George Carlin, a Bally's mainstay who proved frustrating back then in delivering a tepid version of "my act, such as it is, in casinos."
      Not encouraging words from a 40-year master of stand-up comedy, whose edgy material sometimes evoked audience discomfort for its blunt, often brutal views of American society. Dealing with simplistic topics -- scabs as spare body parts, lip crud and a gaseous analysis of flatulence -- Carlin seemed suffocated in a showroom environment and unwilling to push the envelope. Result: A one-star review.
      But word circuitously reached this desk that Carlin was up for a fresh critical assessment. With his 12th HBO special now in the can -- "You Are All Diseased," filmed in February, runs regularly on the cable network -- he's now in a free phase that has allowed him to regain his consistently caustic stance while building bits for another cable special in a couple of years.
      Well, thanks for the tip.
      The silver-haired Carlin, sporting a pony tale and his usual stage wear -- black denim, black T-shirt -- was blasting away with both barrels before a packed house in Bally's Jubilee Theater, shocking many with a passionate and vernacular-laced series of tirades against those things in life that evoke his ire.
      Which is just about everything: theme restaurants, wimpy white lexicon, deceptive politicians and their verbal clichˇs, crazed peace officers, children overindulged by weak baby-boomer parents, advertising, TV shock talk shows, people with weird names, and America's comfort with hypocrisy and crass commercialism. Oh, yes, he thinks religion is probably the biggest scam of all.
      Hardly material for the Fox Family Channel, Carlin's brusque peevishness and liberal use of so-called dirty words had many fans bowing their heads or covering their mouths in an attempt to mask their laughter. The truth can do that.
      Calling theme restaurants a "vile plague within America," Carlin took shots at the nearby Harley-Davidson Cafe as the creation, not of real bikers, but of "dentists, bureaucrats and ... software designers" who think their coming across like tough guys.
      Extending the point, Carlin gruffly proclaimed: "If white people are going to burn down black churches, then black people should burn down every House of Blues. What a disgrace that place is. ... They should call it that home of white, lame (expletive), especially those male movie stars that think they are blues artists. Don't you want to puke in your soup when one of these overweight stars with sunglasses jumps onstage and starts blowing into a harmonica?
      "It's sacrilege. ... White people have no right to play the blues. What? Banana Republic is out of khakis? Hootie & The Blowfish are breaking up? White people should know their job is to give people the blues, not play or sing them. I don't even think they should try to dance like they are black. Stop that! Stick to your ... polkas and waltzes and that repulsive country line dancing you do. Be proud, be white, be lame ... and get ... off the dance floor!"
      The predominantly white audience laughed at Carlin's incisive slashing of current culture and dumb terms such as having a friend "who happens to be black" or one that "is openly gay." Twisting the phrases into knots, Carlin ended his wrath for disposable wordplay by saying, "Colin Powell is not openly white, he just happens to be black."
      Then he promised to be more positive, revealing his plans for an outdoor summer festival "and what could be better than that?"
      Well, it turns out Carlin's event would be called "Slug Fest" and toss 100,000 "strutting, preening, hairy, alpha male (expletives) into a dirt arena and beat the sap out of each other fueled by whiskey and PCP. Then you take the last guy that's standing, put him on a pedestal and shoot him in the ... head!"
      He's sick of macho behavior, extending the issue to steroid-fueled, fuming police officers who batter guys in handcuffs. "There should be two requirements to be on a police force -- intelligence and decency. You never can tell; it's never been tried before."
      An admitted media junkie -- "my TV is always on, like wallpaper" -- the reclusive satirist stretched things a bit in attacking "single dads and soccer moms" whose kids "are overrated, overvalued and turned into little cult objects, and it's not healthy."
      "They're not all cute. They're not all clever. Some are just plain losers, soft ones at who can't go anywhere without safety restraints, fireproof clothing and protective helmets."
      He claimed "fruity baby boomers" are taking all the fun out of growing up because their kids are not allowed to play with "dangerous" toys.
      "Whatever happened to natural selection?" he asked bluntly. "Seems to me we're saving entirely too many lives of all ages in the country because of air bags and batting helmets!"
      He had plenty more to say in his hour set, ripping into grief counselors and trauma therapists who descend on schools after tragedies. "When I was a kid and someone killed three or four people, we just went on with our arithmetic: 'Thirty-five classmates minus four is 31!' ... If kids can handle the violence at home, they can handle the violence at school."
      School uniforms only make things worse. "Don't the schools do enough damage making them think alike?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "And now they want them to look alike, too? I saw a film with kids in uniforms from about 1930, but it was hard to understand because the narration was in German," he raged. "But the (expletives) sure did what they were told."
      His rant against advertising execs sliced through their cloud of nebulous words and promises, with the clergy earning bonus wrath for perpetuating the "greatest B.S. story of all time that's convinced people there's an invisible man living in the sky watching everything we do."
      Eternal hell awaits those who violate the Ten Commandments, he said, but "(God) loves you, and he needs some money."
      And nope, he said nothing uplifting at the end of his set to put a useless bandage on his nonstop invective. Like anyone would buy it, anyway. While some might choose to pray for Carlin, there are plenty who'd rather praise him for unearthing the uncompromising and thought-provoking comic that had gone missing for more than a year. Better late than never, Carlin returns to Bally's, 3645 Las Vegas Blvd. South, Aug. 5-25, Sept. 30-Oct. 13 and Nov. 4-17.
      And it's a safe bet he won't fall short of harsh words and irreverent views that make the difference between a clown and a real mirror-to-society comedian.
      Rating: HHH
     
      Michael Paskevich's entertainment column appears Fridays and Sundays.