George Carlin, free speech advocate, gone at 71

I was talking to my father-in-law on Sunday morning about which show George Carlin ws likely to bring to his upcoming night at the River Rock.  Would it be the silly and hilarious poke at absurdity that generates his funniest storytelling?  Would it be a barely tolerable polemic on his recent pet peeves?  Or would it be what he does best, I wondered:  Rather than the class clown, would he play the court jester, veiling the polemic in poignant and palatable (and, I hoped, filthy) humour, leaving you wiping tears of laughter but also thinking about his underlying observations?

George Carlin died later that day.

In the earliest rendition (as far as I know) of his most infamous - and certainly his most notorious - routine, which he referred to as the “Seven Dirty Words You Can Never Say On Television,” Carlin said, “I love words.”  He also said that there are no bad words - bad thoughts and bad intentions, yes - but not bad words.  To George, words floated in the ether of communication, themselves devoid of any morality - positive or negative - but that which we attach as the thoughts that are their payload.

When George Carlin’s list was broadcast on the radio, as compared to being confined to the controlled environments of album playback and live performance, the F.C.C. threatened sanctions against the broadcaster’s parent, Pacifica Foundation.  Pacifica fought back, and though they ultimately lost, milestones were achieved in the limitations of the F.C.C.’s power to regulate.

The United States Supreme Court decided that “Filthy Words,” as that rendition of the routine was called, was indecent but not obscene.  It was protected under the First Amendment, and therefore the F.C.C. could only limit broadcast in certain situations, such as when children would be likely to listen.  Only when broadcast as entertainment and not news adn during hours when children are likely to listen would the F.C.C. be permitted to regulate and infringe free speech, as a distinction was drawn between “indecent” and “obscene”.

Justice Stevens concluded at page 750 of the case (438 U.S. 726):

It is appropriate, in conclusion, to emphasize the narrowness of our holding. This case does not involve a two-way radio conversation between a cab driver and a dispatcher, or a telecast of an Elizabethan comedy. We have not decided that an occasional expletive in either setting would justify any sanction or, indeed, that this broadcast would justify a criminal prosecution. The Commission’s decision rested entirely on a nuisance rationale under which context is all-important. The concept requires consideration of a host of variables. The time of day was emphasized by the Commission. The content of the program in which the language is used will also affect the composition of the audience, 29 and differences between radio, television, and perhaps closed-circuit transmissions, may also be relevant.

The F.C.C.’s power to regulate was upheld, but in a narrow context.  Moreover, the court felt compelled to reproduce the entire routine, in what must have been courtroom-rocking hilarity, as an appendix to the decision.

George, wherever you are, I hope you’re cracking the place up with Lenny and Richard.  In high school, you cracked me up.  In university, you got me to explore words in a presentation on their effect that made others blush.  In law school, I used the “Seven Dirty Words” routine as an appendix to a presentation on Freedom of Expression.  I think we could have enjoyed meeting over a beer and talking about our love of words.  In your honour, I will not have a moment of silence.  You said you didn’t know what to do with one, and neither do I.  I’d rather have a moment of laughter.

George Carlin, May 12, 1937 - June 22, 2008.