by Bill Hicks
Michael Bolton stares at the Devil, then slowly shakes his head. The Devil smiles patiently.
Devil:
You don’t seem to understand, Michael. We have a . . . DEAL.
Michael Bolton sits up and leans into the Devil’s face.
Michael Bolton:
You don’t seem to understand. Devil-Man . . . I have no soul to give you. Sorry! Ha! Ha! Ha!
The Devil gasps and recoils in horror as Michael Bolton throws back his head and laughs maniacaly – his paltry locks whirling about his misshapen balding pate like fistfulls of tiny snakes, and his sharp little teeth clicking together like bones rattling in the night.
Devil (weakly):
But . . . we . . . had . . . a . . . deal . . .
Michael Bolton:
Ha! Ha! Ha! Sorry! You should have done your research! Even the phone company does a credit check! Ha! Ha!
Suddenly, he stops laughing and snaps his fingers. Out of the shadowy corners of the room step two burly bodyguards, who grab the Devil by the arms and pull him roughly towards the door.
Devil:
But . . . But . . .
The bodyguards hurl the Devil into the hallway, where he stands swaying and confused.
Michael Bolton:
Maybe you’ll have better luck with your other clients. So long! And again . . . Sorry! Ha! Ha! Ha!
With that, the door slammed in the Devil’s face, and a sick feeling began to grow inside him, and things went from bad to worse. He had no luck with his other eighties clients. Between Michael Bolton, MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice, Marky Mark, Mariah Carey, Paula Abdul, and a host of other daft twits he had turned into inexplicable stars, all reneged on their end of The Deal, having no souls to turn over in the first place. Now, the Devil is out of a job, and a new Evil rules this sorry Earth . . . an Evil unbounded by any standards of quality, code of ethics, pride, or integrity. And a cold wind blows in the hearts of Man. And a maniacal shriek of laughter echoes in the night . . . with a bullet.
On Smoking
(undated)
I need to quit smoking cigarettes – not because it’s unhealthy. I only need enough breath each morning to cough up the requisite amount of phlegm. And not because it’s a filthy habit, because the nicotine stains is the closest thing I’ve ever come to a tan. No. The reason I need to quit is because by smoking, I contribute to the tobacco industry, which in turn supports Senator Jesse Helms of North Carolina. Jesse Helms comes up for election every six years. In that time I figure I spend over $11,000 on cigarettes, a portion of that then finds its way into his campaign war chest, which he uses to get re-elected to the United States senate. The Surgeon General’s warning ought to read: ‘Smoking has been determined to cause cancer, heart disease and Rednecks with seniority’.
Now since I really don’t want to quit smoking, I’ll strike a deal with the tobacco people . . . I’ll continue to make them rich by killing myself and others around me, if they will allow me to earmark how my money is to be spent during Senator Helms next election. I would like them to take the money I could be spending on hookers and give me five seconds on one of Jesse’s television ads. Any specific message? The Bill of Rights – void where prohibited. Otherwise, I’m investing in a year’s supply of chewing gum and massages that roam, not far, but wisely.
On the Fall of Communism
(undated)
In the midst of all the elation over the fall of communism in the Soviet Union, one important fact has been overlooked – the United States has lost its ‘Bogeyman’. Without the Soviet Union, who will fuel our latest paranoia? Who will the CIA spy on? Ok – its own citizens like it always has, but now how will they justify it? Saddam Hussein of Iraq? I think not. Sure, he has the look of a first class villain. But if looks were all it took, every other month we could just kick the tar out of Jack Palance. No, we need a country that not only has its own nuclear weapons, but also represents a threat to democracy. In other words, we need The United States of America. That’s right – our next Cold War ought to be with ourselves. We’re the logical choice. After all, who possesses the biggest danger to the American environment – we do. Who’s responsible for our venal and corrupt government – we are. Besides, we could save money if we were our own worst enemy – for instance, the Hotline would become a local call. And if you thought McCarthyism in the 50’s was irrational, think of the fun we could have asking Americans if they are now, or have ever been An American. Done right, we could blacklist seventy-five per cent of the people working in television and film. Just think, that’s all but one of The Golden Girls. So turn those missiles around 180 degrees and remember – Better Dead Than Us.
Two Myths Explored, Debunked, and Other Rantings
(undated)
I was reading the ‘Letters to the Editor’ section of Rolling Stone Magazine the other day. In it were letters in reponse to an article that appeared in the magazine the week before about gun control. Judging from the points of view expressed in the letters, the article had presented the usual two sides you hear regarding this issue, insuring that nothing would be resolved and the argument would rage on and on ad infinitum until we all wished someone would just shoot us so we wouldn’t have to hear it anymore.
The two points of view that are allowable in the narrow spectrum of debate in America regarding gun control are these: first, those people who believe it is our constitutional right to bear arms (these are the ‘you’ll get my gun when you pry it from my cold dead fingers’ bunch – the National Rifle Association, and basically every yahoo goober you’ll ever meet in America), then there are those who believe it is our constitutional right to bear arms, but only after a one week waiting period before being able to purchase a gun, and/or psychiatric and criminal records check. In other words, they feel some type of gun control measure should be enacted so it’s just a little harder to purchase a gun, while not infringing on our ‘Guaranteed Consitutional Right to Bear Arms.’ (There is a third point of view on the gun control issue, those who I refer to as THE VICTIMS, but they remain strangely silent and unorganized.)
Well, here I was again reading these letters, these pathetic attempts at logic from tiny-brained, right-wing fearmongers (i.e. ‘if you outlaw guns, only outlaws will have guns’, and ‘Guns don’t kill people, people kill people’) and letters from the timid, cowering ‘left’ having the gall to suggest that ‘while it is people who kill people, they do it much more readily and handily with guns than without them’, and ‘while outlawing guns would leave only outlaws with guns’ doesn’t take into account the fact that many of the victims of guns are children shot by other children – outlaws neither one. And, of course, there was no acceptance of the statistical correlation between the number of deaths caused by handguns (over ten thousand just this year alone) in America, where guns are readily available, compared to the paltry number of deaths caused by handguns in England (22!) where guns are not so readily available. The simple fact that where there are lots of guns – there are lots of people dying from guns, and where there aren’t a lot of guns – not many people die from guns, is an equation the bloodthirsty, hate mongering horde of gun freaks that maintain it is their ‘consitutional right to bear arms’ don’t understand is more than a little frightening. Shouldn’t you be able to comprehend simple leaps of logic before being able to purchase a gun? ‘No!’ they cry. ‘It is our right!’ And so they believe.
Well, I took it upon myself to peruse a copy of the Bill of Rights to find out exactly what this article in the constitution states. What I discovered shocked me quite profoundly, for two reasons. First because I realized what level of ignorance I was dealing with here – pre-school at best, and second, because what I found so easily in Article Two of the Bill of Rights has never been mentioned before (as far as I know) in this neverending debate.
I’ll quote Article Two71 of the Bill of Rights first, then present my simple realization and perhaps, God willing, this ludicrous issue can be resolved once and for all. (Yeah, right
. . .) Here goes: ‘A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.’ (!) As far as I can tell, that’s one sentence. This issue doesn’t need to be debated by constitutional lawyers. This whole debate could be cleared up by my first grade English teacher, Mrs Farmer. Article Two says, essentially, that: ‘In order to maintain a free state a well-regulated militia (the National Guard) is necessary, and to that end only (at least according to the grammatic content of the sentence) people (the National Guard) have the ‘right to bear arms’. If you reverse the two parts of the sentence it becomes even more crystal clear: ‘The right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed, in order to maintain a well-regulated militia.’
This sentence, this one idea, this complete thought in and of itself does not say every Floyd, Clem, or Burl has the right to bear arms. It does not say every psychopathic yahoo in the country should be able to own a gun. It doesn’t say that at all, and anyone with an education higher than the first grade should be able to comprehend this. Again, I believe people should be able to glean the true meaning of a simple sentence before we even begin to discuss their owning automatic weapons for ‘hunting purposes.’
I can’t help but wonder why the simple and obvious meaning of this sentence has never been mentioned before. Perhaps this is old news to the gun control debaters, but that still doesn’t change the meaning of the sentence. Are gun rights advocates arguing that roving gangs of young people shooting innocent bystanders constitutes a ‘well-regulated militia’? Or that Clem shooting Burl because he mistook him in the dark for a ‘nigra’ constitutes a ‘secure and free state’? What, exactly, is their argument based on? Because it is not based on any ‘guaranteed right’ in the constitution. A child could explain this to you if he or she wasn’t busy ducking for cover, or being strip-searched on the way into their grade school.
Here is the problem as I see it – a lot of very fearful and confused people in this world are heading towards realizing their own self-fulfilling prophecy. They’re advocating a right that does not exist (at least constitutionally, as we’ve seen) to arm themselves to the teeth and ‘protect’ themselves from unnamed predators who, they believe, want nothing more than to break into their homes, rape their fat wives, and then steal all their bowling trophies.
They want to ‘defend’ themselves against some giant social war that appears to them to be breaking out everywhere, threatening their very existence itself. And just who are these poor and twisted souls that flap helplessly in the winds of change like a klansman’s sheet rustling against his legs as he chases a ‘nigra child’ in the night? They are . . . you guessed it! . . . Christians!
Fundamentalist Christians to be exact. Uh-oh! Dial 911 and call the logic police – this is an emergency! Turn your phazer to your own head and press ‘stun’. Slip into some bib-overalls, put a corn stalk between your teeth and pull up a stump, because you are about to experience philosophical thinking at its best! These are some deep, deep thinkers here. They’ve left more than one man stuttering in amazement, silenced by their swift grasp of ‘THE TRUTH’! which is stated so clearly in the Holy Bible, which is the literal word of God’. Watch as every sane and logical argument falls helplessly against their wall of faith. Their beady little pig eyes flare red with fear and hate when the ‘Good Book’ is held up to the Light of Reason. Watch out! Those Christians might bite! After all, they’ve got God on their side, and there’s no question in their little cracker minds about that. I guess they assume they’re forgiven for every form of grevious persecution they’ve committed against ‘non-believers’ over the centuries. Be careful! There’s nothing more dangerous than an angry Christian. With that lethal combination of ignorance combined with self-righteousness! Keep your hands in the car at all times, and no petting. It’s Christian Country safari, or as it’s more popularly known in this, the latter part of the twentieth century as – Amerikkka.
Now don’t get me wrong. Some Christians are fun. Take the Pope for instance – why, he’s a downright hoot! I could watch him for hours bouncing around in his little POPE MOBILE, surrounded by three feet of bazooka-proof plexiglass that I guess we’re supposed to believe was forged in Heaven by the angel Gabriel to protect the Pope from Satan’s Assassins. Now, there’s FAITH IN ACTION!
No, I’m speaking more specifically about right-wing, fundamentalist Christians – those who believe the Bible is the literal word of God’. These are the folks that frighten me, being as they are, in the equivalent of spiritual kindergarten, while also holding positions in the highest levels of the US Government. (Ronald Reagan, George Bush, Jimmy Carter, and Bill Clinton come to mind, just off the top of my head.)
How can the Bible be the ‘exact and literal word of God’, when in the first four chapters alone God is already stumbling about and placing his claim of omniscience in a very suspicious light? In chapter two of Genesis, we read that ‘God formed man out of dust from the ground’ and this man’s name was Adam. Also in chapter two, we’re told that ‘God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man then took one of his ribs and fashioned a woman from the rib’, and this woman’s name was Eve. (Now remember, I’m not questioning the miraculous power of God, only the claim by fundamentalists that the Bible is ‘the exact and literal word of God.’) In chapter three, we learn of Adam and Eve’s fall of grace from EDEN. Now, in chapter four, Adam and Eve have ‘relations’ and Eve gives birth to a son – Cain. Next she gives birth to Cain’s brother Abel. Cain kills his brother Abel and Cain then ‘went out from the presence of the Lord, and settled in the Land of Nod, east of Eden.’ Then, in the next verse we’re told ‘and Cain had relations with his wife . . .’ Whoa! Hold on here. His wife? Where the hell did she come from? How does this work? You see, the Bible may be the ‘literal word of God’, but apparently it’s not the ‘complete works of God’. (That’ll be out this Christmas along with the Led Zeppelin 16-disc box set.)
When posed with these obvious questions of veracity, fundamentalists will then start backpedaling and offering up their pseudo-intellectual philosophies to ‘fill in the gaps’ so to speak of God’s ‘exact and literal word’. (You won’t find people more presumptuous than Christians.) They’ll say that Adam and Eve had other children besides Cain and Abel, daughters, who aren’t mentioned in the Bible. Already we’re open to interpretation, and assumption, and, I might add, if it’s true – INCEST! You would think the ‘exact and literal word of God’ would be clearer and more understandable and not so open to anyone and everyone’s assumptions and interpretations which have kept even fellow Christians at each other’s throats, not to mention the vast chain of guilt, shame, condemnation, and religious persecution they’ve imposed upon others since the Prince of Peace was first born.
As for me, I believe that God is Love, and that he created us, and that we are his beloved children. I believe his love is unconditional, and that there’s nothing we could do to ever change that. I believe it is our own misperceptions of who we really are that leads to every self-created hell you’ll find in this world. I also believe forgiveness is the key to healing our perceptions and allowing us to remember God and his everlasting love for us.
Whatever other dogma or rhetoric you want to add to that simple belief is your business I guess. Or however you wish to interpret it. Like gun control and fundamentalism – these are the nature of the problems that arise in a country of people who are seventy per cent functionally illiterate. I just pray you’ll let my own form of practice be my business and keep your little fearful hands off the weapons for a while. I for one am going to take what Terence McKenna refers to as an ‘heroic dose’ of psylocybin ‘MAGIC mushrooms with my friends and head for the woods, where the word of God can be heard quite effortlessly and quite clear and without the ‘thee’s and thou’s.’ Hopefully, just before we leave, we’ll catch a shot of the Pope bouncing around in his little Pope Mobile on the news. That’ll give us something to gi
ggle about for the first forty minutes before God starts speaking and we hush in silent reverie, and bask in his neverending, holy love.
Igby’s Comedy Club, California
(September 17 1993)
I got a really shitty stereo. I brought my Dylan tapes down here. You know he sings? I mean, this opened up a whole new fucking world. All these years I’m buying his albums, G chord, C chord, G chord, C chord. What kind of genius is this? There’s lyrics – some quite profound. I think he has potential.
Glad you brought a book in case this show bores you. Very nice. Hope you all brought reading material with you tonight. If not, we can pass Juliette around the room. Anyone at any point feels like you want to read Juliette? Audience member: He’s big in Montreal.
Bill: He’s big in Montreal? Oh, I love Montreal. Is that where you’re from? Let’s get back to my show. I ah . . . end of audience participation. Now. I’m not that quick on my feet, you know. It’s an illusion.
Anyway, folks, I appreciate you coming out. It’s a very sentimental evening for me and a very exciting one, but this is my final live performance I am ever going to do stand-up comedy-wise. True. No, no, no, don’t get my wrong. It’s not sour grapes. I’ve loved every, you know, moment of the sixteen years I been doing it in total anonymity in the country I love, and every delayed flight, every Econolodge, I’ve loved it all. Playing the Comedy Pouch in Possum Ridge, Arkansas, every three months. It was my treat. Every broken relationship was a hoot, but . . . No, the reason I’m quitting is actually good news. I finally got – I found out today – I got my own TV show on CBS coming out in ’94. (audience whoops and claps) Yeah. It’s not a talk show. (makes sound of crowd cheering) Thank God, thank Krishna, thank Buddha, thank Mohammed, thank Allah. (makes sound of crowd cheering) Calm down. It’s not a talk show. It is a half-hour weekly show that I will host entitled ‘Let’s Hunt and Kill Billy Ray Cyrus.’ (audience claps) Thanks. So y’all’ll tune in? Cool. Cool. It’s fairly self-explanatory. Each week we let the hounds of hell loose and we chase that jarhead, no-talent, cracker asshole all over the globe till I finally catch that fruity little pony-tail of his, pull him to his knees, put a gun in his mouth (makes sound of gun) and we’ll be back in ’95 with ‘Let’s Hunt and Kill Michael Bolton.’ Thanks a lot. Thank you. You see the run is fairly limitless with this idea. We’re not gonna run out of storylines any time too fucking soon here. And we’re kicking it all off with our Marky Mark/Vanilla Ice/MC Hammer Christmas spectacular, and I don’t want to give away any secrets, but the first one we hunt and kill on the Christmas special is Marky Mark, because his pants kept falling around his ankles and he couldn’t run away. It’s hilar– he’s hopping along, I crossbow him right in the abs. And there’s something really neat to see him laying face-down in snow and his blood seeping out and the snow melting and he just sinks from view. I’m telling you, it has the weirdest . . . you just kinda aaaaah, he’s gone, oh, you stretch, your bowels loosen, aaaaah. My first solid shit in a year, yeah! I had no idea the psychic price I was paying that he existed simultaneously with me on the planet! I didn’t know the burden that I carry every day, every fucking billboard, ‘Oh, there he is again.’ When he goes down, I’m telling you, the clouds lift, birds are chirping (mimics birds chirping), sunlight, ‘Hey brother’, everyone’s walking with a step, it’s . . . All I’m trying to do, folks, is rid the world of all these fevered egos that are tainting our collective unconscious and making us pay a higher psychic price than we can fucking imagine. That in fact is how I exactly pitched it to the network. Seriously. I went in and I said, ‘I wanna do a show where we rid the world of all these fevered egos that are tainting our collective unconscious’, and the CBS guy goes, ‘Will there be titty?’ And I said, ‘Yeah, all right, sure. Sure.’ Boom! A cheque falls in my lap, I’m a producer. We’ve had creative meetings.