Send in the clowns...

Where have all the funny-men gone? Richard Pryor - dead. John Belushi - dead. Chris Farley - dead. George Carlin - dead. Dave Chappelle - hollywood exile? Eddie Murphy - no longer funny. Bill Hicks - dead. Sam Kinison - dead. Andy Kaufman -dead.

My list certainly doesn't cover the full spectrum. Shit, I left out all the writers, actors, singers, politicians, philosophers and genuinely weird crazies...as well as so many other comedians. But, my list should give a general idea of the kind of people I'm referring to. Those who told us truth, mixed in a little fictitious hyperbole, and maybe even made us scratch our heads a bit before saying to our selves, "Holy shit! He's right!"

Carlin deserves a special place in comedy history, for actually making it to old age. And being possibly the smartest/funniest comedian to ever live. And, for teaching me true comedy when I was just a small boy flipping through HBO when my parents had gone out or gone to bed.

Of course there are still entertainers that carry on the traditions of these extraordinarily funny people. Will they last? Do they present a similar style of cranked up, opinionated, brash expression? Half of them might, the other half think they're funny enough as long as they use the words "dick," "shit," and "grandma" in the same sentence.

The emotionally crippled truth seekers on the one way trip to terminal island, those were the men who gave us the true wisdom. They played the game of life unafraid of the grim realities that come with full contact. That is to say, full excess of all that the human experience has to offer.

"I was a player, not a spectator in this life, sweetheart. I look at herpes the way a skater looks at a scraped knee." -Doug Stanhope (one of the few minds left with some perso-fucking-nality)

We sit in coach, eating the peanuts, sipping five dollar watered-down drinks, seeing only that which the tiny portholes allow...while they fly the plane, twisted out of their gourds, taking full enjoyment of God's widespread greenery...seeing far more than their eyes can possibly admit, and admitting far more than their sight could possibly perceive.

Thankfully, these gifted few lasted long enough to share their crystalline observations with those of us smart enough to listen (and successfully comprehend). But who acts on these gems of advice? Who could live through such doom-struck craziness? Can a normal person possibly handle a life on the edge? And if they could...how long would they last? Only a geek of such epic weirdness could survive under such harsh strain. And the rest...well, they couldn't even begin to understand the fast, loose, and infinitely sharp rhythms of a burnt-out expressioniste.

To the funny, weird, genius men...and women, I'm sure...that somehow rose from the ashes of the City of Night, lit up the sky just bright enough to show us true reality, and then disappeared back into the black abyss... I salute you, and do my best to honor your legacies at every opportunity.

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Abstract craziness, I know. If you can keep pace with my manic hoof beats and somehow understand what the fuck I'm talking about...well then that makes one of us. I'm always happy to have you sick bastards aboard the crazy train.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ffZTBOk3qrY&feature=related