留学美国到底值不值

主演：

张甜甜

备注：

类型：

微电影 喜剧,舞台艺术

导演：

冯宇超

年代：

2013

地区：

内地

更新：

2017-02-24 13:24

简介：

40万，60万，100万，或者更多？一年，两年，四年，还是更长？留学对于无数留学生来说，是一场精力、金钱和时间的持久战。在时间的缝隙中，回首，我们得到的是浮夸、奢侈，是醉生梦死、昏昏沉沉、浑浑噩噩？还是创业者、实践者、梦想家？本期，我们将与您探讨美国留学到底值不值得。.....详细

George Carlin: Life Is Worth Losing (2005) from http://movie.subtitlr.com/subtitle/show/458622 Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you. I'm a modern man. A man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified, multi-cultural, post-modern deconstructionist. Politically, anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I've been up-linked and downloaded. I've been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside of downsizing. I know the downside of upgrading. I'm a high-tech low life. A cutting edge, state of the art, bi-coastal multi-tasker, and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond. I'm new wave, but I'm old school. And my inner child is outward bound. I'm a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer. Voice-activated and biodegradable. I interface from a database, my database is in cyberspace. So I'm interactive, I'm hyperactive and from time to time, I'm radioactive. Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet, pushing the envelope. I'm on point, on task, on message and off drugs. I got no need for coke and speed. I got no urge to binge and purge. I'm in the moment, on the edge, over the top but under the radar. A high concept, low profile, medium range ballistic missionary. A streetwise smart bomb. A top gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties. I tell power lies. I take power naps. I run victory laps. I'm a totally ongoing big foot, slam-dunk rainmaker with a proactive outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial. I got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can't shut me up. You can't dumb me down. Because I'm tireless and I'm wireless. I'm a alpha male on beta blockers. I'm a non-believer and an overachiever. Laid back but fashion forward. Up front, down home, low rent, high maintenance. Super size, long lasting, high definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built to last. I'm a hands-on, footloose, knee jerk head case. Prematurely post-traumatic, and I have a love child who sends me hate mail. But I'm feeling. I'm caring. I'm healing. I'm sharing. A supportive, bonding, nurturing primary caregiver. My output is down, but my income is up. I take a short position on the long bond. And my revenue stream has its own cash flow. I read junk mail. I eat junk food. I buy junk bonds. I watch trash sports. I'm gender specific, capital intensive, user friendly and lactose intolerant. I like rough sex. I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the F word in my email. And the software in my hard drive is hardcore, no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a mini mall. I bought a minivan at a megastore. I eat fast food in the slow lane. I'm toll free, bite size, ready to wear and I come in all sizes. A fully equipped, factory authorized, hospital tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle. I've been prewashed, precooked, preheated, prescreened, preapproved, prepackaged, post-dated, freeze dried, double wrapped, vacuum packed and I have an unlimited broadband capacity. I'm a rude dude, but I'm the real deal. Lean and mean. Cocked, locked and ready to rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow. I go with the flow. I ride with the tide. I got glide in my stride. Driving and moving. Sailing and spinning. Jiving and grooving. Wailing and winning. I don't snooze, so I don't lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty. And lunch time is crunch time. I'm hanging in. There ain't no doubt. And I'm hanging tough. Over and out. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you. Hey, I got 341 days sober and next year's my 50th anniversary in show business. Let's do a fucking show, huh? You know something people don't talk about in public anymore? Pussy farts. So anyway. Now I said that on my last HBO show and apparently some people don't know what a pussy fart is, because I got some inquiries. Here's the deal. A pussy fart is like when you're making love to a woman who's got a little extra air in her vagina and every time you thrust forward, it's kind of a... (Fart sounds) And the two of you are just lying there. Each of you is just wondering if the other one farted. And the man is usually thinking, "Maybe she farts when she comes. Maybe she took a shit. Man, I gotta stay out of that fucking bar". Another word you don't hear too often is dingleberries. You know you never hear it on "Meet The Press". The dingleberry solution, dingleberry gate. Nothin'. I think it's because dingleberries is one of them words you don't say too much past your 10th birthday. It's not a grownup's word. It's a kid's word. Dingleberries. It always sounded kind of Christmasy to me. Don't you think it has a holiday ring to it? Dingleberries. "John, you might want to hang some dingleberries over the front door. Then when Maryann comes over, she can kiss you under the dingleberries." "It is to be devoutly wished that she would kiss me under the dingleberries." Cornhole is another word you don't hear enough. You don't hear that nearly enough, you know? It's a good word. It's a solid word. It's a tough word. It's a man's kind of word. It's got a masculine sound. It's like shotgun and ash can and tow truck. Cornhole. Everything's been sanitized now and cleaned up. First with these fucking Christians. You just start with them. You know. I'm so, you know. That's just one, wait a minute now. Yeah, you know. Let's not leave out these PC campus liberal assholes. I mean they're just as fucking bad from a different direction. But everything's different. Everything's been polished up now. It's anal intercourse. Anal rape. Bullshit. Cornhole. Now I'm a big fan of the prime time crime shows. I like all of them pretty much. You know, I like "Law & Order" and all the spin-offs of that. I like "CSl" and all of those spin-offs. Yeah, because they're forensic shows. You know. And I'm just waiting for one night to be sitting there watching one of them shows and then the chief medical examiner turns to the lead detective and says, "Steve, looks to me like after they killed this guy, the perpetrators rolled him over and cornholed him about 30 or 40 fucking times. Look at that. That there is a posthumous, multiple cornhole entry wound". In prison it's a social activity. Yeah, it's right up there on the bulletin board. Checkers, handball, cornholing. Now, just to change the subject a little bit, do you realize, do you realize that right this second, right now, somewhere around the world some guy is getting ready to kill himself. Isn't that great? Isn't that great? Did you ever stop and think about that kind of shit? I do. It's fun, and it's interesting and it's true. Right this second some guy is getting ready to bite the big bazooka. Because statistics show that every year a million people commit suicide. A million. That's 2800 a day. That's one every 30 seconds. There goes another guy. And I say guy, I say guy because men are four times more likely than women to commit suicide. Even though women attempt it more. So men are better at it. That's something else you gals will want to be working on. Well, if you want to be truly equal, you're going to have to start taking your own lives in greater numbers. But... But I just think it's interesting to know. Interesting, that's a big word in this show for me. Interesting to know that at any moment the odds are good that some guy is dragging a chair across the garage floor, trying to get it right underneath that ceiling beam, wouldn't want to be too far off center. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. Somewhere else another guy's going over and getting a gun out of a dresser drawer. Somebody else is opening up a brand-new package of razor blades. Maybe struggling with the cellophane a little bit, you know. "Oh, shit. It's always something. Goddamn it, fuckin shit." I just think that's an interesting as hell. That's probably the most interesting thing you can do with your life, end it. I don't think I could do that, though. Could you? God. I couldn't commit suicide if my life depended on it. But I understand it, you know. I think I do. I don't wonder about it. I don't wonder, Well, why did he do that and, What was going through his mind. You know what I wonder, Where did he find the fucking time? Who's got time to be committing suicide? Aren't you busy? I got shit to do. Suicide would be way down on my list. Probably down past lighting my own house on fire. I might want to try a little self-mutilation first. You know, take a couple of hunks out of my arm. See if I like the general idea. Because you've got to have priorities, man. You know. And you've got to have a plan, too, for something like that. You've got to plan that shit. People just don't run out the house and jump off a bridge. There are things you have to decide. Timing is important. When you're going to do it. "Well, let me see now. Wednesday's out. Got to take Timmy to the circus. "Survivor" is on, on Thursday. Friday I got my colon cleansing. The folks are coming over on Sunday. Sunday. By God, that'd be just the thing. Maybe mom will find my body. Serve her right for fucking me up the way she did." Then you have to pick a method. How you're going to do it. "Well, let me see now. Afraid of heights, that's no good. Can't swallow pills. Don't like the sight of blood. Fucking oven's electric. I'd lie down in front of a train, except the Amtrak ain't coming through here in 30 goddamn years. Maybe I'll just take a gun and shoot myself in the mouth. Suppose I miss? People will be laughing at me. Suppose I live? I'll have a big fucking hole in my head. I'll have to wear some kind of dumb-ass hat. Well, I guess I'll just hang myself. That'd be good. Gotta get a rope. Oh, shit, it's always something. I got a rope in the garage. It's got a lot of grease and paint on it. Don't want to get that stuff on my neck. Wal-Mart's having a special on rope this weekend. No sense spending a lot of money to kill myself. Then again, I can always put it on my credit card I'll never have to pay the fucking thing. That's it then. I'm hanging myself and Wal-Mart's paying for it. What's next? The note. Oh, Jesus. I got to express myself. Hell, if I could express myself, I wouldn't be thinking of doing something like this. Where's a pen? I can never find a pen. Told the kids not to move the pen away from that telephone. Goddamn kids. I ought to just kill them, too. Make it one of them family package deals. Here's a pen. I'll just jam it into my fucking neck and get it over with. Let's see now. Where do you put the date? Upper left? I can never remember that. To whom it may concern. Sounds kind of impersonal. Dear Marzel. Leaves out the kids. I know. Hey, guys. Guess what? Keep on reading. How are you? I hope you are fine. I am not fine. As you can no doubt tell from me hanging here from this ceiling fixture. You are the ones who drove me to this. I was doing just fine until you fuckers came along. I hope you're happy now that I'm goddamn dead. Signed, the corpse in this room. P.S., fuck you people." Yeah, good enough. That would be a good note. I don't think a writer could ever commit suicide. Do you? A writer would be too busy working on the note all goddamn year. Trying to get it just right. First draft, second draft, third revision, whole new ending. Finally, he'd turn it into a book proposal and have a reason to live. That wouldn't work. I think about stuff like that. It's interesting to me. Like I said, certain things are interesting. Suicide's interesting. Life is filled with interesting things. That's why I could never commit suicide. I'm having too much fun keeping an eye on you folks. Watching what you do. Human behavior. That's what I like. Humans do some really interesting things. Like besides killing ourselves, we also kill each other. Murder. And we're the only ones who do that, by the way. We're the only species on earth that deliberately kills members of our own species for personal gain or pleasure, sometimes it's just fun. We're also the only species that deliberately kills members of another species for personal gain or pleasure. That's what hunters do. They kill for pleasure. That's us. Human beings. Interesting folks. Murderers. Here's an interesting form of murder we've come up with. Assassination. You know what's interesting about assassination? Well, not only does it change those popularity polls in a big fucking hurry but it is also interesting to notice who it is we assassinate. Did you ever notice who it is? Stop to think who it is we kill? It's always people who've told us to live together in harmony and try to love one another. Jesus, Gandhi, Lincoln, John Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, Malcolm X, John Lennon. They all said, try to live together peacefully. Bam. Right in the fucking head. Apparently, we're not ready for that. Yeah, that's difficult behavior for us. We're too busy sitting around trying to think up ways to kill each other. Here's one we came up with, it's efficient, too. Genocide. You know, killing large numbers of people simply because they don't look like you, they don't talk like you and they don't have the same kind of hats you do. You ever notice that at any time you see two groups of people who really hate each other, chances are good they're wearing different kind of hats. Keep an eye on that. It might be important. But any time there's genocide, there are always mass graves. Right? Every time we kill some dictator and go marching through his country, we always find mass graves. Thousands and thousands of dead bodies of people the dictator killed. And everybody over here gets horrified. "Oh, mass graves, mass graves oh." Well shit, what's the guy suppose to do with a couple thousand people he just killed? Dig separate holes? Fuck that shit. It's labor intensive. Get real. The whole idea of killing a large number of people at one time and one place is convenience. Efficiency. Thrown 'em in the fucking hole. Look at it this way, at least the dictator had the decency to throw a little dirt on them. Give the guy some credit. The dictator's a busy man. He's got a lot on his mind. Like trying to figure out who's planning to kill him. So he can pick them up, put them in prison and torture them. There's another one of our interesting, heart-warming behaviors we come up with somewhere along the way. Torturing each other. You want to hear a really cool torture that the Romans invented? They also used it as a form of capital punishment. It's really creative. They would take the guy in question, stuff him in a burlap sack, seal the sack up real tight and throw it in the river. But, and here's the creative part, inside the sack with the guy, they would put a dog, a monkey and a snake. Okay? A dog, a monkey and a snake. That's fucking creative. Imagine being inside a burlap sack under water, in the dark, sitting next to a drowning monkey. Think he'd be moving around a little bit? The dog would be going ape shit. We know that. And the snake? Well, he'd probably be getting curious about what all the activity was inside the sack. He might do anything. Whatever he did, it would probably involve venom and his teeth. You know what you'd be doing? You'd be praying to God that the snake bit the monkey and the dog ate the snake. Praying. Yeah, then... Then it would be just you and the dog, man and his best friend drowning together. Maybe before you die, you can teach him a few tricks. Roll over and play dead wouldn't be too difficult, would it? Just a thought, just a playful thought. By the way, I assume you're noticing that all these activities I'm mentioning, murder, torture, genocide, these are all things human beings do. Not animals, those creatures we feel superior to. This is us. Here's another one of our spiritually uplifting activities. We don't do this one much anymore, but it use to be really big. Human sacrifice. I miss that. The Aztecs loved human sacrifice and they were good at it. Well, they got a lot of practice. For instance, right around the year 1500, the Aztecs sacrificed 80,000 people in one ceremony. Okay? 80,000 people in one ceremony. You know what the occasion was? They were opening a new temple. Nothing like religion for a little entertainment, huh? Especially that old time religion. You know how the Aztecs went about their sacrificing? Here's how they did it. They would do it right out in public. Right in front of everybody. Big town. Beautiful city square. 20, 30,000 people looking on. They would take the guy, lay him on an alter, cut his chest open, pull his heart out, hold it up in the air while it was still beating. Got that? Cut his chest open, pull his heart out and hold it up in the air while it was still beating. You know what you call that? Theater. That is fucking theater. And although the procedure may have been a little too crude to be considered the first bypass surgery, it could easily be seen as an early form of organ donor program. The Aztecs, human beings just like us. Not too long ago, 500 years. Columbus had already landed. This is just south of here. Mexico. And by the way, those hearts didn't go to waste. Did not go to waste. Because right after the ceremonies, the royal family, naturally, would enjoy another one of our amusing activities, cannibalism. Imagine that. Chowing down on another human being. You got to be all out of beef jerky, man. You got to be really fucking hungry. But it happens, doesn't it? It still happens to this day. A bunch of people stranded in the wilderness, run out of Pop-Tarts, you got to eat something. Might as well be Steve. And how do you decide who to eat first? How do you decide who's first on the barbecue rack? Do you pick on the little guy because he's skinny and he can't fight back? Or do you all gang up on the body builder because he's got a lot of steaks and chops on him? These are things human beings have to consider. One more of these charming diversions of ours, necrophilia. Now there's a hobby for you. Fucking a corpse. It takes a special kind of guy. Don't you think? But it happens, it happens. More than you might think. It happens among humans. Animals don't do that. Animals don't fuck their dead. A rat will do a lot of gross things, but he will not fuck a dead rat. It wouldn't even occur to him. Only a human being would think to fuck someone who just died. We got to be the most interesting critters on the planet. And then we wonder why a UFO doesn't just land and say, hello. You know the best thing about necrophilia? You don't have to bring flowers. Yeah, usually they're already there. Isn't that nice? It's nice. It's convenient. Human beings will do anything. Anything. I am convinced. That's why when all those beheadings started in Iraq, it didn't bother me. I took it right in stride. A lot of people here were horrified. "Oh, beheadings, beheadings." What are you fucking surprised? It's just one more form of extreme human behavior. Besides, who cares about some mercenary civilian contractor from Oklahoma who gets his head cut off? Fuck him. Fuck him. Hey, Jack, you don't want to get your head cut off? Stay the fuck in Oklahoma. Stay the fuck in Oklahoma. They ain't cutting off heads in Oklahoma. As far as I know. But I do know this, you strap on a gun and go strutting around some other man's country, you better be ready for some action, Jack. You better be ready for some action. People are touchy about that sort of thing. And let me ask you this while I have you good, clean Americans here. This is a moral question, not rhetorical. I'm looking for the answer. What is the moral difference between cutting off one guy's head or two or three or five or ten and dropping a big bomb on a hospital and killing a whole bunch of sick kids? Has anybody in authority given you an explanation of the difference? I have not gotten an email on this. No one will talk to me. I haven't gotten a postcard, not a fucking instant message, nothin'. Now, in case you're wondering why I have a certain interest and fascination, let's call it, with torture and beheadings and all of these things I've mentioned is because each of these items reminds me in life, every time one of them occurs, it reminds me over and over again what beasts we human beings really are, you know? When you get right down to it, when you get right down to it, human beings are nothing more than ordinary jungle beasts. Savages. No different from the Cro-Magnon people who lived 25,000 years ago in the Plasticine Forest eating grubs off of rotten logs. No different. Our DNA hasn't changed substantially in 100,000 years. We're still operating out of the lower brain. The reptilian brain. Fight or flight. Kill or be killed. Now, we like to think we've evolved and advanced because we can build a computer, fly an airplane, travel underwater. We can write a sonnet, paint a painting, compose an opera. But you know something? We're barely out of the jungle on this planet. Barely out of the fucking jungle. What we are is semi-civilized beasts with baseball caps and automatic weapons. And this civilization of ours that we're so proud of, this civilization with its so-called civilized behavior, you ever stop and realize how fragile all this is? How fragile the whole structure, how easily it can all just break right down, just break right down. It wouldn't take much. It'll probably happen in less than two years. It wouldn't take much to throw us right back into barbaric times. All you'd have to do would be eliminate electricity. That's all. But completely. Eliminate electricity. So, no electricity, no lights. You're back to candles and lanterns. Campfires and bonfires. Batteries couldn't be recharged. Generators couldn't be refueled because fuel is pumped electrically. So is water, by the way. So no lights, no fuel, no water, no computers. And computers run everything. And among the many things computers run that operate on electricity are all of the security systems in all of our jails and prisons and nut houses. So suddenly without electricity, all across America the gates and cell doors of penitentiaries and mental institutions would fly open and out would come all of our old friends. The ones who've been away, at camp. Serial killers, mass murderers, felony rapists, armed robbers, car jackers, home invaders, thieves, burglars, kidnappers, sadists, pedophiles, sexual predators, pimps, pushers, pornographers, speed freaks, crack heads, sick junkies. All the ethnic street gangs. Blacks, Spanish and Asian gangs, Japanese Yakuza, Russian Mafia, Neo-Nazis, white supremacists, Sicilian hit man, Italian mobsters, Jamaican and Colombian drug gangs. And those are just the ones we caught. Lets not forget their counter-parts still on the outside right now waiting to hook up with their prison buddies so they can start a new organization, The American Federation of Sociopaths. Just what the country needs. Another special interest group. Eight to ten million of them there would be. Counting all the parolees and all the probationers and the ones who've never been caught. Eight to ten million bitter, angry, violent, sexually hyperactive alpha males with nothing to do. No hobbies. No medication. No scruples. Just a bunch of bad guys looking for a good time. Maybe dropping by your house. "Hi. Hope we're not intruding. Got any beer? Oh, good. Well, I got about 1400 really thirsty guys here. How about women? Got any women? Oh, just your wife, huh? Well, I think we can make that work. Now boys, there's a lady here. So I want you to mind your manners and wait your turn." Police wouldn't help you. They'd be gone at the first sign of trouble. They'd be home protecting their own families. So would the Army and the National Guard. You'd be alone. You'd be on your own. You'd be S.O.L. And J.W.F. Shit out of luck and jolly well fucked. Shit out of luck and jolly well fucked. After a couple of years of living like that, beheadings would be the least of your problems. People would be lining up to be beheaded. So let's get back to suicide, which now seems like a reasonable alternative. Suicide is an interesting topic to me because it is an inherently interesting decision. To decide voluntarily not to exist anymore. It's profound. You know what it is? It's the ultimate makeover. That's why I think it belongs on television. In this depraved culture we live in, with all of these reality shows. Suicide and television will be a natural. I'll bet you I can have an All-Suicide Channel on cable TV. I'll bet you. Shit, they got all golf. What the fuck, huh? Goddamn. You ever watch golf? You ever watch golf? It's like watching flies fuck. If you'd get a bunch of brainless assholes insisting on waste a Sunday afternoon on that kind of shit, you know you can get some people to watch some suicides. All day long, 24 hours a day nothing but suicides. Must die TV. You'd get a lot of people watching that shit. You'd get a lot of people volunteering to be on there, too. Just so their friends can see them on TV. People are fucking goofy. You'd get a lot of volunteers. You'd get all them leftover assholes from "Let's Make a Deal". They'd be lined up around the block pushing each other out of the way, putting on funny capes and caps and hats and makeup and calling themselves Captain Suicide. Guys would be competing for most unusual method. People would be jumping off of silos, lighting themselves on fire, putting rat poison on a taco, drinking Mop & Glo, sticking moth balls up their ass. You'd probably have some weird fuck show up who'd figured out how to kill himself with dental floss and a stinger missile. People are fucking goofy. I'd bet you could find you a married couple, in this country, shit. I'll bet you, you could find a married couple in one of them trailer parks or something who'd be perfectly willing to sit in a loveseat and blow each other's heads off with shotguns while a love song is playing. People are fucking nuts. This country is full of nitwits and assholes. Do you ever notice that? Oh, my goodness, yes. Oh, my goodness. Yeah. Nitwits, assholes, fuck ups, scumbags, jerk offs and dipshits. And they all vote. They all vote, yeah. In fact, sometimes you get the impression They're the only ones who vote. You can usually tell who's been doing the voting by looking at the fucking election returns. Man, it sure ain't me out there wasting my time with a meaningless activity like that. You know those people on the "Jerry Springer Show", those are the average Americans. Oh, yeah, believe me. Below average can't get on the show. Can't get on. Below average is sitting home watching that shit on TV, getting ready to out and vote, filling out their sample ballot. People are fucking dumb. You can say what you want about this country, and I love this place. I love the freedoms we used to have. I love it. I love that. I love it when it didn't take a fucking catastrophe to get us to care for one another. I love the fact that we're on camera all the time from all angles. But, you know, you can say what you want about America. And I say I love this place. I wouldn't have it any other way, wouldn't live in any other time in history in any other place. But say what you want about America. Land of the free, home of the brave. We've got some dumb-ass motherfuckers floating around this country. Dumb-ass motherfuckers, you know. Now, obviously that doesn't include this audience. I understand that. You seem intelligent and perceptive but the rest of them, holy jumping fucking shit balls. Dumber than a second coat of paint. Now, this ain't just ranting and raving. This ain't just blowing off steam. I got a little evidence to support my claim. It just seems to me seems to me, that only a really low IQ population could have taken this beautiful continent, this magnificent American landscape that we inherited... Well, actually, we stole it from the Mexicans and the Indi.

George Carlin: Life Is Worth Losing (2005) from http://movie.subtitlr.com/subtitle/show/458622 Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you. I'm a modern man. A man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified, multi-cultural, post-modern deconstructionist. Politically, anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I've been up-linked and downloaded. I've been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside of downsizing. I know the downside of upgrading. I'm a high-tech low life. A cutting edge, state of the art, bi-coastal multi-tasker, and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond. I'm new wave, but I'm old school. And my inner child is outward bound. I'm a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer. Voice-activated and biodegradable. I interface from a database, my database is in cyberspace. So I'm interactive, I'm hyperactive and from time to time, I'm radioactive. Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet, pushing the envelope. I'm on point, on task, on message and off drugs. I got no need for coke and speed. I got no urge to binge and purge. I'm in the moment, on the edge, over the top but under the radar. A high concept, low profile, medium range ballistic missionary. A streetwise smart bomb. A top gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties. I tell power lies. I take power naps. I run victory laps. I'm a totally ongoing big foot, slam-dunk rainmaker with a proactive outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial. I got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can't shut me up. You can't dumb me down. Because I'm tireless and I'm wireless. I'm a alpha male on beta blockers. I'm a non-believer and an overachiever. Laid back but fashion forward. Up front, down home, low rent, high maintenance. Super size, long lasting, high definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built to last. I'm a hands-on, footloose, knee jerk head case. Prematurely post-traumatic, and I have a love child who sends me hate mail. But I'm feeling. I'm caring. I'm healing. I'm sharing. A supportive, bonding, nurturing primary caregiver. My output is down, but my income is up. I take a short position on the long bond. And my revenue stream has its own cash flow. I read junk mail. I eat junk food. I buy junk bonds. I watch trash sports. I'm gender specific, capital intensive, user friendly and lactose intolerant. I like rough sex. I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the F word in my email. And the software in my hard drive is hardcore, no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a mini mall. I bought a minivan at a megastore. I eat fast food in the slow lane. I'm toll free, bite size, ready to wear and I come in all sizes. A fully equipped, factory authorized, hospital tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle. I've been prewashed, precooked, preheated, prescreened, preapproved, prepackaged, post-dated, freeze dried, double wrapped, vacuum packed and I have an unlimited broadband capacity. I'm a rude dude, but I'm the real deal. Lean and mean. Cocked, locked and ready to rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow. I go with the flow. I ride with the tide. I got glide in my stride. Driving and moving. Sailing and spinning. Jiving and grooving. Wailing and winning. I don't snooze, so I don't lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty. And lunch time is crunch time. I'm hanging in. There ain't no doubt. And I'm hanging tough. Over and out. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you. Hey, I got 341 days sober and next year's my 50th anniversary in show business. Let's do a fucking show, huh? You know something people don't talk about in public anymore? Pussy farts. So anyway. Now I said that on my last HBO show and apparently some people don't know what a pussy fart is, because I got some inquiries. Here's the deal. A pussy fart is like when you're making love to a woman who's got a little extra air in her vagina and every time you thrust forward, it's kind of a... (Fart sounds) And the two of you are just lying there. Each of you is just wondering if the other one farted. And the man is usually thinking, "Maybe she farts when she comes. Maybe she took a shit. Man, I gotta stay out of that fucking bar". Another word you don't hear too often is dingleberries. You know you never hear it on "Meet The Press". The dingleberry solution, dingleberry gate. Nothin'. I think it's because dingleberries is one of them words you don't say too much past your 10th birthday. It's not a grownup's word. It's a kid's word. Dingleberries. It always sounded kind of Christmasy to me. Don't you think it has a holiday ring to it? Dingleberries. "John, you might want to hang some dingleberries over the front door. Then when Maryann comes over, she can kiss you under the dingleberries." "It is to be devoutly wished that she would kiss me under the dingleberries." Cornhole is another word you don't hear enough. You don't hear that nearly enough, you know? It's a good word. It's a solid word. It's a tough word. It's a man's kind of word. It's got a masculine sound. It's like shotgun and ash can and tow truck. Cornhole. Everything's been sanitized now and cleaned up. First with these fucking Christians. You just start with them. You know. I'm so, you know. That's just one, wait a minute now. Yeah, you know. Let's not leave out these PC campus liberal assholes. I mean they're just as fucking bad from a different direction. But everything's different. Everything's been polished up now. It's anal intercourse. Anal rape. Bullshit. Cornhole. Now I'm a big fan of the prime time crime shows. I like all of them pretty much. You know, I like "Law & Order" and all the spin-offs of that. I like "CSl" and all of those spin-offs. Yeah, because they're forensic shows. You know. And I'm just waiting for one night to be sitting there watching one of them shows and then the chief medical examiner turns to the lead detective and says, "Steve, looks to me like after they killed this guy, the perpetrators rolled him over and cornholed him about 30 or 40 fucking times. Look at that. That there is a posthumous, multiple cornhole entry wound". In prison it's a social activity. Yeah, it's right up there on the bulletin board. Checkers, handball, cornholing. Now, just to change the subject a little bit, do you realize, do you realize that right this second, right now, somewhere around the world some guy is getting ready to kill himself. Isn't that great? Isn't that great? Did you ever stop and think about that kind of shit? I do. It's fun, and it's interesting and it's true. Right this second some guy is getting ready to bite the big bazooka. Because statistics show that every year a million people commit suicide. A million. That's 2800 a day. That's one every 30 seconds. There goes another guy. And I say guy, I say guy because men are four times more likely than women to commit suicide. Even though women attempt it more. So men are better at it. That's something else you gals will want to be working on. Well, if you want to be truly equal, you're going to have to start taking your own lives in greater numbers. But... But I just think it's interesting to know. Interesting, that's a big word in this show for me. Interesting to know that at any moment the odds are good that some guy is dragging a chair across the garage floor, trying to get it right underneath that ceiling beam, wouldn't want to be too far off center. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. Somewhere else another guy's going over and getting a gun out of a dresser drawer. Somebody else is opening up a brand-new package of razor blades. Maybe struggling with the cellophane a little bit, you know. "Oh, shit. It's always something. Goddamn it, fuckin shit." I just think that's an interesting as hell. That's probably the most interesting thing you can do with your life, end it. I don't think I could do that, though. Could you? God. I couldn't commit suicide if my life depended on it. But I understand it, you know. I think I do. I don't wonder about it. I don't wonder, Well, why did he do that and, What was going through his mind. You know what I wonder, Where did he find the fucking time? Who's got time to be committing suicide? Aren't you busy? I got shit to do. Suicide would be way down on my list. Probably down past lighting my own house on fire. I might want to try a little self-mutilation first. You know, take a couple of hunks out of my arm. See if I like the general idea. Because you've got to have priorities, man. You know. And you've got to have a plan, too, for something like that. You've got to plan that shit. People just don't run out the house and jump off a bridge. There are things you have to decide. Timing is important. When you're going to do it. "Well, let me see now. Wednesday's out. Got to take Timmy to the circus. "Survivor" is on, on Thursday. Friday I got my colon cleansing. The folks are coming over on Sunday. Sunday. By God, that'd be just the thing. Maybe mom will find my body. Serve her right for fucking me up the way she did." Then you have to pick a method. How you're going to do it. "Well, let me see now. Afraid of heights, that's no good. Can't swallow pills. Don't like the sight of blood. Fucking oven's electric. I'd lie down in front of a train, except the Amtrak ain't coming through here in 30 goddamn years. Maybe I'll just take a gun and shoot myself in the mouth. Suppose I miss? People will be laughing at me. Suppose I live? I'll have a big fucking hole in my head. I'll have to wear some kind of dumb-ass hat. Well, I guess I'll just hang myself. That'd be good. Gotta get a rope. Oh, shit, it's always something. I got a rope in the garage. It's got a lot of grease and paint on it. Don't want to get that stuff on my neck. Wal-Mart's having a special on rope this weekend. No sense spending a lot of money to kill myself. Then again, I can always put it on my credit card I'll never have to pay the fucking thing. That's it then. I'm hanging myself and Wal-Mart's paying for it. What's next? The note. Oh, Jesus. I got to express myself. Hell, if I could express myself, I wouldn't be thinking of doing something like this. Where's a pen? I can never find a pen. Told the kids not to move the pen away from that telephone. Goddamn kids. I ought to just kill them, too. Make it one of them family package deals. Here's a pen. I'll just jam it into my fucking neck and get it over with. Let's see now. Where do you put the date? Upper left? I can never remember that. To whom it may concern. Sounds kind of impersonal. Dear Marzel. Leaves out the kids. I know. Hey, guys. Guess what? Keep on reading. How are you? I hope you are fine. I am not fine. As you can no doubt tell from me hanging here from this ceiling fixture. You are the ones who drove me to this. I was doing just fine until you fuckers came along. I hope you're happy now that I'm goddamn dead. Signed, the corpse in this room. P.S., fuck you people." Yeah, good enough. That would be a good note. I don't think a writer could ever commit suicide. Do you? A writer would be too busy working on the note all goddamn year. Trying to get it just right. First draft, second draft, third revision, whole new ending. Finally, he'd turn it into a book proposal and have a reason to live. That wouldn't work. I think about stuff like that. It's interesting to me. Like I said, certain things are interesting. Suicide's interesting. Life is filled with interesting things. That's why I could never commit suicide. I'm having too much fun keeping an eye on you folks. Watching what you do. Human behavior. That's what I like. Humans do some really interesting things. Like besides killing ourselves, we also kill each other. Murder. And we're the only ones who do that, by the way. We're the only species on earth that deliberately kills members of our own species for personal gain or pleasure, sometimes it's just fun. We're also the only species that deliberately kills members of another species for personal gain or pleasure. That's what hunters do. They kill for pleasure. That's us. Human beings. Interesting folks. Murderers. Here's an interesting form of murder we've come up with. Assassination. You know what's interesting about assassination? Well, not only does it change those popularity polls in a big fucking hurry but it is also interesting to notice who it is we assassinate. Did you ever notice who it is? Stop to think who it is we kill? It's always people who've told us to live together in harmony and try to love one another. Jesus, Gandhi, Lincoln, John Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, Malcolm X, John Lennon. They all said, try to live together peacefully. Bam. Right in the fucking head. Apparently, we're not ready for that. Yeah, that's difficult behavior for us. We're too busy sitting around trying to think up ways to kill each other. Here's one we came up with, it's efficient, too. Genocide. You know, killing large numbers of people simply because they don't look like you, they don't talk like you and they don't have the same kind of hats you do. You ever notice that at any time you see two groups of people who really hate each other, chances are good they're wearing different kind of hats. Keep an eye on that. It might be important. But any time there's genocide, there are always mass graves. Right? Every time we kill some dictator and go marching through his country, we always find mass graves. Thousands and thousands of dead bodies of people the dictator killed. And everybody over here gets horrified. "Oh, mass graves, mass graves oh." Well shit, what's the guy suppose to do with a couple thousand people he just killed? Dig separate holes? Fuck that shit. It's labor intensive. Get real. The whole idea of killing a large number of people at one time and one place is convenience. Efficiency. Thrown 'em in the fucking hole. Look at it this way, at least the dictator had the decency to throw a little dirt on them. Give the guy some credit. The dictator's a busy man. He's got a lot on his mind. Like trying to figure out who's planning to kill him. So he can pick them up, put them in prison and torture them. There's another one of our interesting, heart-warming behaviors we come up with somewhere along the way. Torturing each other. You want to hear a really cool torture that the Romans invented? They also used it as a form of capital punishment. It's really creative. They would take the guy in question, stuff him in a burlap sack, seal the sack up real tight and throw it in the river. But, and here's the creative part, inside the sack with the guy, they would put a dog, a monkey and a snake. Okay? A dog, a monkey and a snake. That's fucking creative. Imagine being inside a burlap sack under water, in the dark, sitting next to a drowning monkey. Think he'd be moving around a little bit? The dog would be going ape shit. We know that. And the snake? Well, he'd probably be getting curious about what all the activity was inside the sack. He might do anything. Whatever he did, it would probably involve venom and his teeth. You know what you'd be doing? You'd be praying to God that the snake bit the monkey and the dog ate the snake. Praying. Yeah, then... Then it would be just you and the dog, man and his best friend drowning together. Maybe before you die, you can teach him a few tricks. Roll over and play dead wouldn't be too difficult, would it? Just a thought, just a playful thought. By the way, I assume you're noticing that all these activities I'm mentioning, murder, torture, genocide, these are all things human beings do. Not animals, those creatures we feel superior to. This is us. Here's another one of our spiritually uplifting activities. We don't do this one much anymore, but it use to be really big. Human sacrifice. I miss that. The Aztecs loved human sacrifice and they were good at it. Well, they got a lot of practice. For instance, right around the year 1500, the Aztecs sacrificed 80,000 people in one ceremony. Okay? 80,000 people in one ceremony. You know what the occasion was? They were opening a new temple. Nothing like religion for a little entertainment, huh? Especially that old time religion. You know how the Aztecs went about their sacrificing? Here's how they did it. They would do it right out in public. Right in front of everybody. Big town. Beautiful city square. 20, 30,000 people looking on. They would take the guy, lay him on an alter, cut his chest open, pull his heart out, hold it up in the air while it was still beating. Got that? Cut his chest open, pull his heart out and hold it up in the air while it was still beating. You know what you call that? Theater. That is fucking theater. And although the procedure may have been a little too crude to be considered the first bypass surgery, it could easily be seen as an early form of organ donor program. The Aztecs, human beings just like us. Not too long ago, 500 years. Columbus had already landed. This is just south of here. Mexico. And by the way, those hearts didn't go to waste. Did not go to waste. Because right after the ceremonies, the royal family, naturally, would enjoy another one of our amusing activities, cannibalism. Imagine that. Chowing down on another human being. You got to be all out of beef jerky, man. You got to be really fucking hungry. But it happens, doesn't it? It still happens to this day. A bunch of people stranded in the wilderness, run out of Pop-Tarts, you got to eat something. Might as well be Steve. And how do you decide who to eat first? How do you decide who's first on the barbecue rack? Do you pick on the little guy because he's skinny and he can't fight back? Or do you all gang up on the body builder because he's got a lot of steaks and chops on him? These are things human beings have to consider. One more of these charming diversions of ours, necrophilia. Now there's a hobby for you. Fucking a corpse. It takes a special kind of guy. Don't you think? But it happens, it happens. More than you might think. It happens among humans. Animals don't do that. Animals don't fuck their dead. A rat will do a lot of gross things, but he will not fuck a dead rat. It wouldn't even occur to him. Only a human being would think to fuck someone who just died. We got to be the most interesting critters on the planet. And then we wonder why a UFO doesn't just land and say, hello. You know the best thing about necrophilia? You don't have to bring flowers. Yeah, usually they're already there. Isn't that nice? It's nice. It's convenient. Human beings will do anything. Anything. I am convinced. That's why when all those beheadings started in Iraq, it didn't bother me. I took it right in stride. A lot of people here were horrified. "Oh, beheadings, beheadings." What are you fucking surprised? It's just one more form of extreme human behavior. Besides, who cares about some mercenary civilian contractor from Oklahoma who gets his head cut off? Fuck him. Fuck him. Hey, Jack, you don't want to get your head cut off? Stay the fuck in Oklahoma. Stay the fuck in Oklahoma. They ain't cutting off heads in Oklahoma. As far as I know. But I do know this, you strap on a gun and go strutting around some other man's country, you better be ready for some action, Jack. You better be ready for some action. People are touchy about that sort of thing. And let me ask you this while I have you good, clean Americans here. This is a moral question, not rhetorical. I'm looking for the answer. What is the moral difference between cutting off one guy's head or two or three or five or ten and dropping a big bomb on a hospital and killing a whole bunch of sick kids? Has anybody in authority given you an explanation of the difference? I have not gotten an email on this. No one will talk to me. I haven't gotten a postcard, not a fucking instant message, nothin'. Now, in case you're wondering why I have a certain interest and fascination, let's call it, with torture and beheadings and all of these things I've mentioned is because each of these items reminds me in life, every time one of them occurs, it reminds me over and over again what beasts we human beings really are, you know? When you get right down to it, when you get right down to it, human beings are nothing more than ordinary jungle beasts. Savages. No different from the Cro-Magnon people who lived 25,000 years ago in the Plasticine Forest eating grubs off of rotten logs. No different. Our DNA hasn't changed substantially in 100,000 years. We're still operating out of the lower brain. The reptilian brain. Fight or flight. Kill or be killed. Now, we like to think we've evolved and advanced because we can build a computer, fly an airplane, travel underwater. We can write a sonnet, paint a painting, compose an opera. But you know something? We're barely out of the jungle on this planet. Barely out of the fucking jungle. What we are is semi-civilized beasts with baseball caps and automatic weapons. And this civilization of ours that we're so proud of, this civilization with its so-called civilized behavior, you ever stop and realize how fragile all this is? How fragile the whole structure, how easily it can all just break right down, just break right down. It wouldn't take much. It'll probably happen in less than two years. It wouldn't take much to throw us right back into barbaric times. All you'd have to do would be eliminate electricity. That's all. But completely. Eliminate electricity. So, no electricity, no lights. You're back to candles and lanterns. Campfires and bonfires. Batteries couldn't be recharged. Generators couldn't be refueled because fuel is pumped electrically. So is water, by the way. So no lights, no fuel, no water, no computers. And computers run everything. And among the many things computers run that operate on electricity are all of the security systems in all of our jails and prisons and nut houses. So suddenly without electricity, all across America the gates and cell doors of penitentiaries and mental institutions would fly open and out would come all of our old friends. The ones who've been away, at camp. Serial killers, mass murderers, felony rapists, armed robbers, car jackers, home invaders, thieves, burglars, kidnappers, sadists, pedophiles, sexual predators, pimps, pushers, pornographers, speed freaks, crack heads, sick junkies. All the ethnic street gangs. Blacks, Spanish and Asian gangs, Japanese Yakuza, Russian Mafia, Neo-Nazis, white supremacists, Sicilian hit man, Italian mobsters, Jamaican and Colombian drug gangs. And those are just the ones we caught. Lets not forget their counter-parts still on the outside right now waiting to hook up with their prison buddies so they can start a new organization, The American Federation of Sociopaths. Just what the country needs. Another special interest group. Eight to ten million of them there would be. Counting all the parolees and all the probationers and the ones who've never been caught. Eight to ten million bitter, angry, violent, sexually hyperactive alpha males with nothing to do. No hobbies. No medication. No scruples. Just a bunch of bad guys looking for a good time. Maybe dropping by your house. "Hi. Hope we're not intruding. Got any beer? Oh, good. Well, I got about 1400 really thirsty guys here. How about women? Got any women? Oh, just your wife, huh? Well, I think we can make that work. Now boys, there's a lady here. So I want you to mind your manners and wait your turn." Police wouldn't help you. They'd be gone at the first sign of trouble. They'd be home protecting their own families. So would the Army and the National Guard. You'd be alone. You'd be on your own. You'd be S.O.L. And J.W.F. Shit out of luck and jolly well fucked. Shit out of luck and jolly well fucked. After a couple of years of living like that, beheadings would be the least of your problems. People would be lining up to be beheaded. So let's get back to suicide, which now seems like a reasonable alternative. Suicide is an interesting topic to me because it is an inherently interesting decision. To decide voluntarily not to exist anymore. It's profound. You know what it is? It's the ultimate makeover. That's why I think it belongs on television. In this depraved culture we live in, with all of these reality shows. Suicide and television will be a natural. I'll bet you I can have an All-Suicide Channel on cable TV. I'll bet you. Shit, they got all golf. What the fuck, huh? Goddamn. You ever watch golf? You ever watch golf? It's like watching flies fuck. If you'd get a bunch of brainless assholes insisting on waste a Sunday afternoon on that kind of shit, you know you can get some people to watch some suicides. All day long, 24 hours a day nothing but suicides. Must die TV. You'd get a lot of people watching that shit. You'd get a lot of people volunteering to be on there, too. Just so their friends can see them on TV. People are fucking goofy. You'd get a lot of volunteers. You'd get all them leftover assholes from "Let's Make a Deal". They'd be lined up around the block pushing each other out of the way, putting on funny capes and caps and hats and makeup and calling themselves Captain Suicide. Guys would be competing for most unusual method. People would be jumping off of silos, lighting themselves on fire, putting rat poison on a taco, drinking Mop & Glo, sticking moth balls up their ass. You'd probably have some weird fuck show up who'd figured out how to kill himself with dental floss and a stinger missile. People are fucking goofy. I'd bet you could find you a married couple, in this country, shit. I'll bet you, you could find a married couple in one of them trailer parks or something who'd be perfectly willing to sit in a loveseat and blow each other's heads off with shotguns while a love song is playing. People are fucking nuts. This country is full of nitwits and assholes. Do you ever notice that? Oh, my goodness, yes. Oh, my goodness. Yeah. Nitwits, assholes, fuck ups, scumbags, jerk offs and dipshits. And they all vote. They all vote, yeah. In fact, sometimes you get the impression They're the only ones who vote. You can usually tell who's been doing the voting by looking at the fucking election returns. Man, it sure ain't me out there wasting my time with a meaningless activity like that. You know those people on the "Jerry Springer Show", those are the average Americans. Oh, yeah, believe me. Below average can't get on the show. Can't get on. Below average is sitting home watching that shit on TV, getting ready to out and vote, filling out their sample ballot. People are fucking dumb. You can say what you want about this country, and I love this place. I love the freedoms we used to have. I love it. I love that. I love it when it didn't take a fucking catastrophe to get us to care for one another. I love the fact that we're on camera all the time from all angles. But, you know, you can say what you want about America. And I say I love this place. I wouldn't have it any other way, wouldn't live in any other time in history in any other place. But say what you want about America. Land of the free, home of the brave. We've got some dumb-ass motherfuckers floating around this country. Dumb-ass motherfuckers, you know. Now, obviously that doesn't include this audience. I understand that. You seem intelligent and perceptive but the rest of them, holy jumping fucking shit balls. Dumber than a second coat of paint. Now, this ain't just ranting and raving. This ain't just blowing off steam. I got a little evidence to support my claim. It just seems to me seems to me, that only a really low IQ population could have taken this beautiful continent, this magnificent American landscape that we inherited... Well, actually, we stole it from the Mexicans and the Indi.