This blog belongs to Andy Still.

George Carlin: One Year Gone

A year ago today, I awoke at 2:30 in the morning to my phone ringing. It was my good friend Stephen Boatright calling. He said “I know I’m waking you up, but I figured you’d want to know immediately.” “It’s all good, what’s wrong?” “George Carlin just died.” “Thanks for telling me. I really appreciate it.” I hung up the phone. I got up and wandered into my kitchen, in a weird state of shock and disbelief. Part of me was telling myself that he had just heard some rumor and that it didn’t happen. But the feeling in my gut, that sick to your stomach feel like you’re going to vomit because you know something has gone terribly wrong feeling, was far too strong for it to have not happened. I turned the tv on in the living room and changed it to CNN. No mention of it. Fox News. Obviously not. Msnbc. Nope. Then I log online to CNN’s website. There it was. The big yellow “breaking news” bar above a picture of George making one of his signature goofy faces. Then those 7 words that I never wanted to read: “Comedian George Carlin Dead at age 71.” I grabbed a bottle of red wine off the top of the fridge and a big tall glass and didn’t go back to sleep.

People say you should never meet your heroes, because you’ll always be disappointed. I’ve been fortunate enough to meet a lot of people who I look up to as artists, such as Mel Brooks, Penn & Teller, The Amazing Jonathan, David Copperfield, Jim Norton, Martin Short, Lance Burton, Richard Griffiths, Daniel Radcliffe, William H. Macy, Tony Clifton, Carl Ballantine, Criss Angel, David Blaine, Dave Caplan, Barney the Dinosaur, Sharon Lois and Bram, and the Black Power Ranger when I was in 2nd grade. Nearly all of them have been extremely nice, minus David Blaine… he was a douchebag. But I was never really nervous meeting any of them. Sure, I admire them greatly for their work, but when it came down to it they were all just really talented people in my mind.

Carlin was different. There are 2 people who I consider to be my all time heroes as performing artists: Andy Kaufman and George Carlin. Well, obviously, meeting Kafuman was impossible, since he died 3 years before I was born. I got turned on to George my freshman year of High School by my drum line instructor Chip Hancock in the summer of 2001. He knew of my love of spicy language, and asked if I’d ever heard Carlin’s “Seven Words You Can’t Say On Television.” I hadn’t, so he told me which album it was on, “Class Clown”. The next week, our marching band took a trip to a marching festival in Gadsden, Alabama, and part of the tradition is to stop at a mall outside of Gadsden and eat at the food court and shop around. So I ran into F.Y.E. and looked through their comedy section. I immediately picked up Class Clown and another one at random, appropriately titled “Parental Advisory: Explicit Content.” The fates obviously knew what they were doing. In both albums Carlin dove deep into the thoughts behind the way we use words, and how a word in and of itself is not offensive. He made you think, but damn did he ever make you laugh while he was at it. He is the only white comic I’ve ever seen get away with saying “nigger” over and over and has the entire audience on his side. In his “Seven Words” routine, he points out how people say “I’d much rather my child watch a movie where 2 people make love, instead of where 2 people kill each other.” So what does he do with that? He replaces the word “kill” with the word “fuck” in old western quotes, resulting in hilarious phrases like “Alright, Sheriff, We’re gonna fuck ya’ now… but we’re gonna fuck ya slooooow.” He was incredibly ahead of his time in pointing out how the pressure to be politically correct in culture was getting way, way out of hand. And so he busted down walls and told everyone that it was bullshit. That’s what he was best at… pointing out the stupid bullshit that we are all guilty of.

Many people mistakenly refer to George Carlin as a shock comedian. In a recent comment thread on a previous writing, a person said to me “the George Carlins of this world have relied greatly on foul language and crudeness to shock people into laughter.” And while Carlin would jump at any chance to indulge his 12 year old inner self by making fart noises with an accompanying masturbatory gesture, he never was one to try to shock people into laughter. Were his observations crude? Quite often, yes. Vulgar? But of course. More than anything, though, he was honest. You never, ever questioned whether or not Carlin meant what he said. Even when he got outlandish and extreme, the backbone of his argument was always as solid as steel. Often, his routines didn’t require the use of fleeting expletives. Look at his “Place for My Stuff” and “Baseball vs. Football” routines. Listening to Carlin do those routines is like listening to a symphony. His words were the notes, twisting and turning, rising and falling, never losing your complete attention for a second. And just when you think you know where he’s going with a joke, he’d hit you with a punchline you would never hear coming. No comic has been or will ever be able to use words, clean or profane, the way Carlin did.

October 15, 2006 will always remain in the top 5 of the greatest nights of my life. Even if I have 5 children, one of their births will have to take a back burner to the night I met my hero. I went with one of my best friends dad, Martin Ward. Our tickets were shit. We were in the 2nd to last row of the orchestra. I was bummed, but still thrilled to be getting ready to watch the show. The lights went down, and bouncing in my seat, I waited for him to come out on stage, and as the spotlight turned on, I immediately sunk in my seat with great disappointment. I had forgotten there was going to be an opening act. And it was a singer songwriter named Vance Gilbert. He was great… but he was making me wait 45 mintues longer than I had anticipated to see George. But this turned out to be a blessing. All during Vance’s act, I kept noticing that there were 2 seats on the isle of the second row from the front. After Vance sang “King of Rome” a capella and unmiked (something I will also never forget) there was an intermission. I got up and told Martin to follow me. He asked, in that voice that if you’ve heard it you can hear in your head when you read this, “Where the hell are we headed?” Luckilly, he just went along with it, and we sat down right as the lights were about to fade. We just upgraded from the worst to best seats in the house. There was no introduction, he just came out, right up to the mic and said “I’d like to begin tonight by saying Fuck Lance Armstrong.” He then told the audience that he hadn’t perfected the material he was going to perform, so to assure that he did his best, he’d be reading most of it from papers he’d printed out. He then said “I hope that’s okay with you, and if not… BLOW ME!!!” with a big goofy grin on his face. This blew my mind. Then and there I had an epiphone. I had always known he was brilliant with words, but it was at that moment I realized that he wasn’t just good at talking… he was an actor reciting a script, with every word meticulously crafted to achieve their maximum effect. So until he had the show memorized, he performed a staged reading. Equally effective, just to insure perfection. An hour and a half later, I felt the show drawing to an end, and I had a gut feeling that this was going to be my only chance to meet my hero. So I did something that killed me inside, I got up and left the show. Anyone who knows me well knows that there is little that annoys me more than people who get up and walk out of a movie, or leave during the middle of a play. Had it not been for those isle seats I found, I would have never gotten up and disturbed other people, and I would have never met George. But the fates were on my side. In school, our Theatre Production teacher had taken us on an all access backstage tour of the Tivoli, so I knew where the stage door was the Carlin would be exiting from. I had also heard from someone that he never sticks around after a show, he gets in his car literally right after he finishes his set. So I arrive back by the stage door and am told to step back by a gentleman in a black suit. One thing I’ve learned in life is if a gentleman in a black suit tells you not to stand somewhere, you do what he says. I heard through the loading dock door George say “Thank you, everyone. Goodnight!” Not ten seconds later the door flew open, and there he was, hurrying to his car. He looked up as he was about to head to the door, and saw me standing over to the side, and stopped and walked over to me. Then it occurred to me, the biggest moment of my young adult life, and I hadn’t thought through what I might say. So, like a tool, I said “Will you sign this?” holding out my first edition of Napalm and Silly Putty. “Sure thing, kid.” he said. Holy fucking shit, George Carlin just talked to me. I then decided to grow a pair and say “I really admire your work, especially the way you use words. You’re my biggest inspiration.” How the hell I managed to make a cohesive statement will always be beyond me. But I did, and he was so genuinely gracious in saying “Thank you so much.” He noticed the camera around my neck and said “Alright, cmon, lets hurry and get a picture so I can be gone before the foot traffic gets here.” I wasn’t going to dare ask for a photo, a signature and handshake was more than adequate for me. But since he offered, I threw my camera strap off of my neck, held it out as far as I could, and snapped one photo. I said “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget this.” And he said “You’re welcome.”, smiled, got in the car, and rode away. I immediately called my best friend Jonathan and told him all about it. Then everyone else I could think of. I had to share this with as man people as possible, because it was too much excitement for me to contain all by myself.

The night George died was one of the hardest, worst nights of my life. It was doubly bad for me, because within 12 hours of finding out about Carlin, my high school U.S. History teacher, Ron Arp, died of a sudden heart attack (what other kind is there?). I sat, watching tv all night. I saw a collection of comedians on Larry King that night, ranging from Bill Maher to Jerry Seinfeld to Lewis Black, all of them fighting with every muscle in their bodies to not just break down and lose it on national television. I realized that I wasn’t being so stupid for being so upset. He was a real inspiration to every comedian I’ve ever talked to. He was the best there ever was, or will be.

on the current culture of comedic personas

In light of recent events, bloggings and conversations, the idea of public persona versus private self has been on my mind a lot. It’s something that everyone deals with. In some instances, people are publicly obnoxious and off putting, while privately they couldn’t be more calm and caring. Others are publicly well liked, while they’re really tearing their families apart. I could go on about this for hours, but it’d start sounding like a self help book. This isn’t about normal people as much as it is about performers and artists.

Actors are so damn lucky. They get to have their words written for them, a character to create, costumes and sets to construct an alternate reality in which to play. At the end of the show, after taking their bows, they get to hang it all up and walk away from it. No one hates Ralph Fiennes or Anthony Hopkins as a person because even the simplest of minds can understand that although they played terrifyingly believable killers, they aren’t really that guy when walking down the street. In my 2 years of the professional actor training program at chattanooga state, I learned how to reach inside of myself and create a character from real and imagined life experiences. It wasn’t until after the program that I realized that all performers do this, but only actors really get credit for it. Being a multi-focused artist, I’ve been studying everyone I admire in the different fields of my sporadic focus.

Back in October, I trekked to Knoxville and saw Michael Buble in concert. I was shocked at how much of a jackass he was, or at least so I thought. He came out singing beautifully, but when he talked, he was vulgar, he was incredibly rude to his band, and seemed drunk. All of a sudden, something changed. He had a smirk on his face. He started laughing. He had just pulled one over on his audience. By the end of the show, he was the twinkly eyed lover that everyone expected. Both of these were characters. He was up there playing the part of lounge singer. He kept it spicy. He made the audience, who came in already madly in love with him, hate him a little, then pulled the rug out from under them and made them realize he was the guy they loved all along, just having a little fun at their expense. I guarantee no one walked out of that concert actually thinking Michael Buble was really a jerk (unless they were dumb enough to leave early… something no one should ever do, whether it be movies, theatre, concerts, etc.)

This reminds me of something a magician whom I greatly admire named David Williamson taught me. When you’re performing magic, you never let your audience see how good you are. You fool them the most when only giving them 20% then turning the hose on them at the end. Magic is an art form that is overtly manipulative. Every move is meticulously crafted to deceive the people watching. Much like acting, this is accepted as part of the craft. Only the most ignorant or fervent religious fanatics would walk away from a performance by Criss Angel or David Copperfield and think “that guy sold his soul to the devil!”

The reason that all of these are accepted as a character choice is because of the proscenium in which they’re presented. You see live theatre, a magic show, or even a concert, and you understand that these people are playing the role of their occupation. But, for some reason, this accepted standard of perception doesn’t apply to comedians.

Throughout history, the role of the comedian or jester has been one of great social importance. The jester was always the person who would point out to the king and his people that the king was making foolish decisions by acting foolish. This is still the case with jesters like Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. Stewart plays the character of journalist so convincingly, that sometimes his show goes from comic commentary to real journalism, and Stephen Colbert plays faux conservative pundit so well that a recent poll showed that a majority of conservatives don’t realize he’s making fun of them. Luckily for these guys, they’re playing characters in front of a set with other things to lend to the fact they aren’t really “this guy.”

Normal comedians aren’t that lucky. Comedians are writers who perform their material. People don’t seem to understand this. No one assumes that Stephen King is a serial killer for writing the things he does, and no one in their right mind would think after looking at Nora Roberts that she’d had that many steamy romances. Yet people watch a comedian perform and think that this is just this person talking. Sure, they may tell life stories (most of which are barely if at all true) and talk about things they may or may not really believe. Sure there are hints of honesty come from a comedian. They write this stuff… it is a part of them. Last week, I wrote a note concerning the situation with Sarah Palin and David Letterman in my comedic voice. Sure, I meant a lot of what I said. I think it’s absurd that Letterman be forced to apologize for making a simple joke about a public figure. I also said outrageous things that were greatly exaggerated, as was my general use of language. But only the most ignorant person would actually believe that I  am a sexist because of the harsh, over the top words I use to make my point, or that I legitimately equate Sarah Palin with a woman who drowned her children or Hitler, both of which were comparisons I made. The same goes for much more brilliant comedic voices than my mediocre self. Nora Dunn, as castmember who no one really remembers from Saturday Night Live, famously walked off the show when Lorne Michaels invited Andrew Dice Clay to host. Of all people, this woman should have realized that the misogynistic, sexist things Dice said were part of his character, and not who he really was. She’s supposed to be a comedian for crying out loud. And of course I can’t talk comedy without talking about my two heroes: Andy Kaufman and George Carlin.

Andy Kaufman never broke character. He was both brilliant and out of his damn mind. Only a select few people, his closest friends and family, got to know who he really was. Everyone else was treated to whoever Andy wanted them to think he was. One of his most remembered character stunts was his famous battle with Jerry Lawler in the professional wrestling world. It was perfect, partly because of Andy’s brilliant execution, and partly because he picked a world of entertainment where the fans are often so ignorant that they aren’t able to distinguish that what they are seeing isn’t real. And I’m not talking about the fighting, but the continuous soap opera story line. More on that idea in a little.

Carlin. I could write about this guy for days, and I plan on writing a much longer thing about his influence on me on Monday, which will mark the 1 year anniversary of his death. But I will say this about him. He said a lot of outrageous things, to say the least. To judge him by what you see and hear on stage, you’d swear he was the most bitter, cynical son of a bitch to ever walk the face of the earth. He was so annoyed with the most minute details of humanity and peoples stupidity that there is no way he could be a happy, normal person. Right? No. This past March, at the Winter Carnival of Magic in Pigeon Forge, TN, I got to have a long talk with Harry Anderson (the judge from Night Court). Harry’s a magician and comedian, and was at the very first episode of Saturday Night Live, which Carlin hosted (and where Andy Kaufman performed his infamous Mighty Mouse routine). He and Carlin became pals over time, so needless to say I was in awe and just asking him to tell me story after story about my heroes, soaking it all in. And he said something about Carlin that I KNEW was true before I heard it. Harry was at the airport in New York. He had lost his wallet, and had no cash, only his cell phone. So he called George. Without hesitating, George hopped in his car and picked Harry up at the airport, spent the day with him catching up, and gave him a couple hundred bucks to get by on until he got everything squared away. When I was lucky enough to meet George on October 15, 2006 (the greatest day of my life) he was one of the kindest, most gracious celebrities I had ever met. I also got to say hi to his wife, and she just smiled and said “it’s nice to meet you.” Yes, ladies and gents, George Carlin, the abrasive bitter old bastard, was married. He married his first wife in 1961 and stayed with her until she died in 1997, and remarried in 1998 and was with that lovely woman until the day he died. These are not the signs of a bitter man.

So why is it that as a general rule people are completely unable to separate a persons comedic voice from themselves? I think it has to do with the culture of commentary in the current media environment in this country. If you turn on any cable news channel, you’re likely to see what I’m talking about. Sean Hannity, Michael Moore, Rachel Maddow, Anne Coulter, Glenn Beck, Bill Maher, Rush Limbaugh, Michael Savage, Keith Olberman: All of these people ARE NOT JOURNALISTS. They are ENTERTAINERS. But when their faces are being put on CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, etc; it blurs the line between entertainment and news. Don’t get me wrong, this can be a good thing when entertainment becomes informative commentary; but when news starts turning towards entertainers to keep people watching it is bad for America. Not only does it make people incapable of having legitimate debate, but it also makes it harder to distinguish when someone is making comic commentary instead of spouting what they really believe. As the late, great George Carlin repeatedly said in his final HBO special: “It’s bullshit… and it’s bad for ya.”

On Sarah Palin and David Letterman

WARNING! ADULT LANGUAGE CONTAINED WITHIN! DO NOT READ IF EASILY OFFENDED! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, SO DONT COMMENT ON MY USAGE OF LANGUAGE. THAT IS ALL. CONTINUE.

I consider myself a student of comedy, as well as a lover of politics. Since high school, my heroes have been Andy Kaufman and George Carlin. I’ve listened to every Carlin recording countless times, and seen every clip I can find of Kaufman. What I’m about to write is part comic commentary on current events, written in my acidic, abraisive style; and part tirade about comedians places in culture, and where they do and don’t belong.

Before I say anything else, be aware this is going be biased as all get out, and I’m not holding back with my usage of expressive terms. I will probably offend many if not all of you.

I loathe and despise Sarah Palin with every fiber of my being. Not because I disagree with her politically, because I admire a lot of conservatives (John McCain of 2000, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Charlie Crist). I despise her because I think she’s a completely uneducated fucking lunatic who cares about nothing more than getting good publicity, and that she and her brand of politics are bad for America and the world (more on that later). So I wasn’t surprised at all to hear her recent tirade against David Letterman for a joke he made.

The joke was as follows:

“Sarah Palin went to a Yankee’s game yesterday. There was one awkward moment during the 7th inning stretch: her daughter was knocked up by Alex Rodriguez.”

The audience laughed. A lot. Know why??? BECAUSE THE JOKE IS FUCKING FUNNY!!! Bristol Palin, single mother and poster child for abstinence only education, is OBVIOUSLY the subject of this joke. Which is why the audience laughed.

Well, I’m sure when Sarah Palin saw this she thought “wait a minute, my 14 year old angel was with me that day, not that dumb liability of a child I so kindly named after a NASCAR track. This is a great moment to put lots (and lots and lots) of makeup on and get my face out there!” And then it began… she starts accusing David Letterman, a 62 year old comic legend, of making rape jokes about her 14 year old. A couple of quotes from this stupid, stupid bitch:

“I would like to see him apologize to young women across the country for contributing to kind of that thread that is throughout our culture that makes it sound like it is OK to talk about young girls in that way, where it’s kind of OK, accepted and funny to talk about statutory rape,” she said. “It’s not cool. It’s not funny.”

First off, go back to elementary school and learn to form simple sentences like a big girl. And second of all, he wasn’t talking about statutory rape, you ignorant twat. He was talking about your perfectly legal whore of a daughter. You know, the one who said after her baby was born that abstinence “isn’t realistic” only to follow it up by touting around and saying “it’s the only way to go, kids!” 18 years old, and she’s already nearly as much of a hypocritical slag as her mother. But at least she’s hot. And anyone who thinks Sarah Palin is hot is about as retarded as that thing that escaped her womb a year ago. I call it a thing because it can’t be a child if she named it Trig. Even hitler wasn’t that cruel.

Letterman apologized for being in bad taste, because he had to (I’ve linked his apology and commentary at the bottom of this article). That’s what happens when you work for a big corporation, if you piss off the wrong people, you have to apologize or face the consequences (isn’t that right Don Imus?). I won’t be apologizing for any of what I’m saying now being in bad taste because I’m well aware that what I’m saying is despicable, and I don’t have to answer to anyone. When all is said and done, this is really just me being a silly goose. In his apology he stated that he’d love to have her on the show to sort it all out. The way she had her publicist respond is what really made me wish that she would’ve sat on a dirty needle at that Yankee’s game:

“The Palin’s have no intention of providing a ratings boost for David Letterman by appearing on his show. Plus, it would be wise to keep Willow away from David Letterman.”

Palin also criticized Letterman for making a “lame excuse” and that it took too long.

No words can express how much of a hypocrite this woman is, although “ferociously stupid cunt” fits her just as well as her hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of taxpayer funded designer clothing. Let’s get this straight: jokes about raping a 14 year old girl (although that’s NOT what the joke was) are completely off limits. To insinuate that David Letterman, 62 year old father who’s son is under 10, would rape your 14 year old daughter: witty comeback. NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING is a bigger double standard than this (minus being a gay republican… something I still believe to be a myth). Matt Lauer, America’s greatest journalistic asset, called her out on this. Her response is about as mindblowing as her unintelligible statements to Katie Couric this past fall:

Lauer: I’d like you to explain what that meant. Are you suggesting that David Letterman can’t be trusted around a 14-year old girl?

Palin: Hey, take it however you want to take it…

Lauer: But is that not, in fact, in bad taste also governor if you’re…if you’re suggesting that a 62-year old man can’t be trusted…

Palin: It’s not in bad taste. It’s not in bad taste.

(pause)

Palin: Hey, maybe he couldn’t be trusted because Willow’s has had enough of this type of comments. Maybe Willow would want to…uh….uh…uh..react to him in a way that..uh…would catch him off guard. That’s one way to interpret such a comment.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! You attack Letterman for his “lame excuse” then give us THAT?! I swear this woman’s brain is made of moose turds. Even if we are supposed to be retarded enough to believe that the comment was saying that Letterman wouldn’t be safe around your 14 year old daughter, who I’m sure is a real gem, the fact that you’re implying you’d LET HER GO AT HIM gives us a great example of your fantastic parenting skills. Add that to the selfishness of having a baby so late in your life that it’s practically guaranteed to come out mongoloid and your inability to illustrate to your other daughter how to put a condom on a banana and you’ve got parenting skills right up there with Andrea Yates and the Octomom.

However, there is a much larger issue at hand than the fact that Sarah Palin is as articulate as Terry Schiavo in her last days. The reason this moron plagues us is the fault of two groups: the lazy media and “you people.”

First off: the lazy media. This is my new-coined term that I hope will replace the terms “liberal media” or “rightwing media.” The problem with news today is not that the media leans one way or the other, but in the fact that they report stories like Sarah Palin feuding with A FUCKING COMEDIAN. A comedians place in culture is to comment on current events and make people laugh at them; not to become the centerpiece. I guarantee you that David Letterman had no intention of making the headlines when he made a meanspirited but hilarious joke about Sarah Palin’s daughter. But Sarah Palin knew that the media is hungry for a controversy. They get ratings by reporting stupid bullshit like this instead of material of substance; meanwhile we’re still at war in Iraq, our economy is about as shitty as a 95 year old mans Depends, and people are having to sell their kidneys in order to pay for a kidney transplant. The only people that do a good job of pointing out how ridiculously lazy our media is, ironically enough, are satirists like Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. There’s a stark difference between comedians and satirists. Comedians make light of current events, satirists bring awareness to them. There has not been a better example of courageous satire than Stephen Colbert’s recent broadcast from Iraq, where he went with the USO to entertain the troops and bring awareness back to the fact that, despite not seeing much about it on tv, they’re still over there dying. If you haven’t seen it, go to colbertnation.com and watch it. Now. But I digress. Enough about the lazy media. Blame lies equally on people who support this crap. And I mean you.

If the media were to do it’s job and focus on actual news instead of crap like this, or the fact that Jon and Kate are having marriage problems after 8 children (who’d have seen that coming?), news ratings would plummet. But thanks to gossip loving, short attention span Americans, this bullshit rules our cable news channels. And you know who you are, people. You’re the ones who go around saying you have A.D.D. although you’ve never seen a doctor about it, much less been diagnosed. You don’t have A.D.D. You’re just too damned lazy to give a shit. You’d rather be told what to think by some talking head, whether it be Bill O’Reilly, Ann Coulter, Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, Rachel Maddow, Keith Olberman, Lou Dobbs, etc. You know what all of these people have in common? They’re full of shit, and are contributing to the dumbing down of American society. They do nothing but polarize politics, and make it where instead of having a decent conversation about policy differences, the only way to get noticed is to say something controversial or demeaning about those who disagree with you. These are the same people who tried to make a political figure out of Miss California. GIVE ME A FUCKIN’ BREAK ALREADY! I hate to say it, people, but this is your fault; and I don’t just mean those numbskulls who have been duped into thinking that Sarah Palin is worthy of any acclaim at all. I mean all of you. Your inattention to real, legitimate policy has led to Sarah Palin being a national political figure who never mentions policy, while the media sits back and plays into her hands. Until you start paying attention and demanding real journalists do their real jobs, we get to deal with this. Journalism and news should be tedious. It should be facts, not speculation about whether or not a joke was appropriate. But as long as we have morons like Sarah Palin around to talk about lipstick on pitbulls and let that pass as politics, and media figures jump at the latest controversy to gain the interest of a general public who’d rather watch celebrities trapped on an island, well, all I can say is… we’re fucked.

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