Love All the People (New Edition)

by Bill Hicks

  CAT: You seem very knowledgeable and educated in all these areas. How have you become so knowledgeable?

  BILL: I tell you who opened my eyes up a whole bunch is a guy named Noam Chomsky. I will recommend a book, Manufacturing Consent. Noam is a linguistics professor at MIT. He is a critic of American policy in the name of patriotism. He dispels the rumor that you have to be liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican. We are all these things at times. What we are, are people and let’s move on from there. Noam Chomsky pours information into your head. It is interesting, fascinating and documented. He is the eighth most quoted man in history . . . we’re talking Socrates, Shakespeare and this guy packs a wallop.

  CAT: Bill, have you ever considered being a lecturer?

  BILL: I have. I don’t know what shape my life is going to take, but I would love to go around to colleges and offer something with the comedy in the context of something other than a comedy club.

  CAT: People expect lecturers to be controversial and I think you might have less resistance in getting your message across. You could use the comedy in the lecture.

  BILL: I’d love to be able to do that. Because we are watching another generation that are (A) going to be indoctrinated into the system and (B) a lot of people are seeking still and I’d love to get to them at that age.

  I would love to be able to debate some of these issues. Thinking is its own reward.

  I just had a new little miracle that happened in my life. Dell Publishing wants me to publish a book about anything that I want to write about. Obviously, I think what I would first write about is this discussion on reasonable thinking . . . sense versus nonsense. That’s a good title right there. Let me write this down. I think that might be what it takes to introduce me as someone credible enough to do lectures. There are too many people already out there speaking on things that are just crap or they don’t know crap about. I would want to be credible.

  CAT: I have to tell you that when we got the pre-release of the HBO tape as we were considering interviewing you, there was some concern . . . not so much because of the language, but because of the interpretation of the material. 40% of the schools we reach are church supported schools. I was concerned as to how they might interpret your message. Yet as we are interviewing you, I am getting a completely different perspective. Yes, you probably can be considered a rebel and maybe some of the things you say could be considered radical to staunch conservatives, but as a magazine we need to give our audience a chance to decide for themselves. I have to tell you though, I don’t think the tape accurately gives audiences a look at the real Bill Hicks.

  BILL: Thank you for being honest with me and I agree about the tape you saw. To those staunch conservatives ‘If you are secure in your position, then why are you afraid of my ideas? You can just reject it or listen to it on the level of the joke.’

  You know what really bugs me about these Presidential debates? If there is never a third member there as a judge, then there is no one to say ‘Wait, you didn’t answer that question. You aren’t moving on until you ANSWER the question.’ The people want answers . . . boom, you lose a point! You’ve lost credibility.

  The thing is, that most of the people in congress want us to think that every problem is so unsolvable. They just gloss over them and make us think that sometime in the ‘near’ distant future they will be resolved. So the people just think to themselves, ‘Who knows better than this guy, I guess?’

  CAT: Why are people scared of controversial comedians but not controversial speakers? You could go on Oprah, Donahue, Geraldo and a host of other shows and express your views without too much effort, if you were a speaker. But the fact that you are a comedian seems to put it in a different light.

  BILL: One of the things that I have heard is that America’s biggest failing is its inability to take comedy seriously. What you are saying and what I believe is that they take it too seriously. A real comic does offer solutions. Some people are afraid of that . . . they are afraid of someone who can truly express an idea and do it with all the convictions because this is the only idea that makes sense. It is irrefutable . . . until I hear more information, and I am willing to hear you out.

  CAT: Was there ever a clear response as to why you were censored from Letterman?

  BILL: Never! The first call was this: The show had to be censored. Why? Because CBS Standards and Practices found your material unsuitable. I said ‘Well, did it not go over well with the audience.’ The response was ‘Yeah, it did.’ ‘Then what’s the problem.’. . . again there was no debate judge there. The punchline was that I did a pro-life joke . . . a very clean joke about pro-life. The basic thing that I said was ‘Don’t lock arms and block medical clinics. Lock arms and block cemeteries.’ Let’s see how committed you are. We live in the USA, United States of Advertising and there is freedom of speech to this highest bidder. The next week there was a pro-life commercial during the Letterman Show.

  New Happiness

  (7 February, 1994)

  I was born William Melvin Hicks on December 16, 1961 in Valdosta, Georgia. Ugh. Melvin Hicks from Georgia. Yee Har! I already had gotten off to life on the wrong foot. I was always ‘awake’, I guess you’d say. Some part of me clamoring for new insights and new ways to make the world a better place.

  All of this came out years down the line, in my multitude of creative interests that are the tools I now bring to the Party. Writing, acting, music, comedy. A deep love of literature and books. Thank God for all the artists who’ve helped me. I [ . . . ] these words and off I went – dreaming my own imaginative dreams. Exercising them at will, eventually to form bands, comedy, more bands, movies, anything creative. This is the coin of the realm I use in my words – Vision.

  On June 16, 1993 I was diagnosed with having liver cancer that had spread from the pancreas’. One of life’s weirdest and worst jokes imaginable. I’d been making such progress recently in my attitude, my career and realizing my dreams, that it just stood me on my head for a while. ‘Why me!?’, I would cry out, and ‘Why now!?’

  Well, I know now there may never be any answers to those particular questions, but maybe in telling a little about myself, we can find some other answers to other questions. That might help our way down our own particular paths, towards realizing my dream of New Hope and New Happiness.

  Amen

  I left in love, in laughter, and in truth and wherever truth, love and laughter abide, I am there in spirit.

  February, 1994

  Appendix: Recorded Live in Denver, San Ramon, West Palm Beach and San Francisco

  (1990-93)

  How are you doing tonight? Interpreter? I’m doin’ pretty good ah . . . been on the road doin’ comedy now for ten years, so bear with me while I plaster on a fake smile and plough through this shit one more time. Teasin’. It’s magic every show.

  Now, a lot of you non-smokers are drinkers. I’m a non-drinker and a smoker. To me we’re trading off vices. That seems fair to me. Not to you, does it? ‘Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh. ‘We don’t care whether you drink.’ ‘Why should our lives be threatened by your nasty habit?’ Yeah, but you know what? I can’t kill anybody in a car cos I’m smoking a cigarette, OK? And I’ve tried. Turn off all the lights, rush ’em, they always see the glow. Huh huh. ‘Man, there’s a big firefly heading this way. Shit, it’s knocking over shrubs! Goddamn, it just hit a mailbox!’ Now you’re going, ‘Bill, who’re you tryin’ to kill in your car?’ That’s another story entirely.

  I was a pathetic drunk, man. I’d get pulled over by the cops, I’d be so drunk I’d be out dancin’ to their lights, thinking I’d made it to another club. Does not look good on the arrest report. You ask a state trooper to do-si-do, they tend to remember you. As opposed to ten years ago – you remember ten years ago, the attitude? You got pulled over, you were drinking, cop comes up to your car:

  ‘Son, you been drinkin’?’

  ‘Ohhh, yeah.’

  ‘Oop, sorry to bother ya. Hope I
didn’t bring your buzz down any, ah . . . didn’t know y’all were partyin’, didn’t mean to startle ya. All righty . . . Sure, I’ll dance.’

  A little more easygoing, right? Ten years ago? Yeah, it was. Now if you get pulled over and you been drinking, that’s the end of the fuckin’ chase. There could be bank robberies going on around you, kidnappings, terrorist activities, fuck it. Every cop car in the county pulls up . . . to watch you audition for your freedom. Oh yeah, that’s their favourite show at night. They all get out with their coffee, they put you in the headlights of their car . . . and you’re on: ‘Thank you. It’s great to be here at the overpass. Boy, it looks like we got quite a turnout here tonight. Lieutenant, how are you? Good to see you again. Apparently a season ticket-holder to our little weekend show.’

  They put you through that field sobriety test, which is very deceiving. I don’t know if you’ve ever been through this. It’s very deceiving, field sobriety test, cos it’s very easy at first. First thing they told me is walk a straight line. Pfftt . . .

  ‘Son, you wanna come back?’ (three gunshots)

  ‘Come on Lieutenant, we do that joke every weekend. Goddamn it, that almost hit me. I’m comin’ back, I’m comin’ back. I’m comin’!’

  ‘Touch yer nose.’

  Easiest test I’ve ever taken! I’ll touch my nose and walk a straight line. Get some extra credit on this motherfucker. Yeah, then comes the kicker: ‘Say the alphabet . . . backwards.’ . . . You got me. (laughs) I’m not even drunk. I’m obviously too stupid to be driving, goddamn it. Where the fuck did that one come from? We just changed gears on that test. ‘Touch yer cheek. Touch yer hair. Do calculus.’ I was doin’ so FUCKIN’ GOOD! Say the alphabet back– what does that have to do with sobriety? You know what I mean? I couldn’t say it, you know, I couldn’t read it backwards, I’m so . . . so used to that song. It’s like you’ve been practising your whole life to fail the drunk test. Z Y, Z Y, ZY fuck it! (singing) ‘A B C D E F G, I’m a moron get me off the road.’ What does saying the alphabet backwards have to do with sobriety, man? I think they’re making this shit up as they go. You’re drunk, they’re bored . . . they can say anything, you know?

  ‘Touch yer nose. Walk a straight line. Hell, son, do a flip. (whoosh, crash) Pretty good, pretty good. Come ’ere, stick your dick in our exhaust pipe.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of this one. Ah shit, they are policemen. They know what they’re doin’. Goddamn, that’s hot.’

  ‘Shut up, we’re gettin’ out of that alphabet deal.’

  ‘Oh fuck it. I’m sober now. We shoulda done this back at the bar. Damn! Now how long they been chasing us?’

  They’re makin’ this shit up! And they pop you anyway . . . no matter what you do in that test, if they feel like it. So I say, forget it. Touch your nose, walk a straight line – aah, screw it, I’m drunk. I might puke if I start movin’ around a lot. How ’bout this, Officer? How about you carry me to the back of your car? Think I’ll start my eighteen-hour nap right now, buddy. You ever seen vomit go through that mesh screen between the front and back seats? Ah yeah, you’re gonna rue the day you pulled me in, pal. I been eatin’ bar olives for three days now.

  ‘Yes sir, you got me. I’m drunk (makes vomiting noise). Whoo! Man, you got me outa my car and into yours just in time, Officer. I’m gonna be out of jail tomorrow, you’re gonna be smelling this shit for weeks, buddy. Boy, hope I was worth it. (laughs, then vomits) Euch, sorry. Z Y . . . fuck it, you got me, dude. (vomits) Z Y Xxxx– (vomits). Boy, you’d better get me off the road before I fill this fucker up and we drown, buddy’ (vomits)

  I don’t recommend doing this. But it is a semi-true story. Well, there are such things as cops . . . that much is true.

  Live in New York City. I moved up here after I got . . . after I quit drinking, and ah . . . New York City. I moved there from Texas, by the way. Get this, man: I left in Houston, Texas, my apartment – 1,400 square feet, balcony, thirty floors up, air conditioner, centralized, dishwasher, washer/dryer, free parking . . . drum roll: brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr 400 dollars a month. Ha ha ha ha ha! What a fuckin’ idiot, huh? I feel like a real moron. I moved to an apartment, I could touch one wall with that hand, the other wall with that foot . . . 1,000 dollars a month. It’s Supermoron! (sings excerpt from Wagner’s ‘Ride of the Valkyries’) I can answer the door, answer the phone, take a leak, be in the shower, all at once . . . for I am Superfuckin’ moron. It’s unbelievable. All my friends call me up all the time: ‘Hey you living in New York. You been mugged yet?’ I go, ‘Yeah, as a matter of fact. The first of every month.’ Ha ha. They got it systemized. Apparently it’s legal. Little wizened guy: ‘Give me all your money.’ ‘Yes sir, hu-huh.’ It’s not an apartment, it’s a compartment. I shoulda read the fuckin’ ad better. This thing has a Murphy tub. You know, the sad thing is, I tell people who live in New York about my apartment, they all, to a man, they go:

  ‘You got a great deal.’

  ‘Where the fuck do you live?’

  ‘I live in your Murphy tub. 1,200 dollars a month.’

  ‘I thought that was a roach.’

  ‘No, it’s me. Quit spraying me.’

  ‘Geez, I’m sorry.’

  That’s not very good, you know, apartment relations. Spraying Raid on your neighbour.

  Anyway, who am I? Ah, well, I’ll give you an idea. Last few months I been doing a one-man show, like a lot of comics these days are doing one-man shows, and I’m no exception. Ah, I been doing a one-man show at the Improv in Stokey West Virginia, for the last four months. Off off off off off Melrose. And ah . . . the theme of the one-man show is about my life . . . growing up as I did in a happy, healthy and loving family. And it’s called ‘Let’s Spend Half a Minute With Bill’. And ah . . . well, hell, it’s such a short show I could do it right now for ya. OK, here we go. It’s about my life as I did growing up in a happy, healthy, loving family: ‘Good evening everybody. Momma never beat me and Daddy never fucked me. Good night!’ (in deep voice) ‘T-shirts are on sale in the lobby.’

  I don’t know if this show will be able to relate to dysfunctional America, but that’s the way I was raised. Sorry! Ha ha ha ha ha! No bone to pick. Supported me in everything I did – whoops! It’s fun doing the show, though. In Stokey West Virginia, people come up, real excited: ‘That was a great show. Liked it a lot. Little long . . . but ah . . . my attention span wavered towards the end. One thing though: that part about your dad never fucking you – that’s a joke, right?’ Course it is. Is that a bus? I’m outa here.

  Everything they tell you about pot is a lie. They tell you pot smoking makes you unmotivated: lie. When you’re high you can do everything you normally do just as well, you just realize . . . it’s not worth the fuckin’ effort. Sure, I could get up at dawn, get in traffic, go to a job I hate which does not inspire me creatively whatsoever for the rest of my life. I could do that, sure . . . or . . . I could sleep till noon, get up and learn how to play the sitar. (in monotone) ‘Dow ning now ning ning ning now ning now ning ning ning now ning now ning ning ning now ning now.’ What is it – one string? How fucking hard is this instrument? ‘Now ning now ning ning ning now ning now ning ning ning now ning now ning ning ning now ning.’ It’d be a better world. If it were all these sitar players calling up fucking aliens from the fifth dimension to join us. See, I don’t fit anywhere. No one else shares my fucking beliefs, man, you know what I mean? I don’t get it. It’s true. ‘Bill, Bill, your, your beliefs are ludicrous.’ ‘Oh. OK, mom.’

  It’s like, you know, drugs, man. It’s like I can’t believe we have this war on drugs. You people actually think honestly that the government’s true about this, right? You actually believe they’re making adverts – don’t make me giggle and fall off the stool. ‘Oh no, Bill. We know they’re lying cocksuckers. We’re not fooled, that’s why . . . we stole their drugs! Ha ha ha!’ But you know what I mean. How can you have a war against drugs? All day long you see those commercials: ‘Here’s your brain’, ‘Ju
st say no’, ‘Why do you think they call it dope?’, and the next commercial: ‘This Bud’s for you’, ‘Hey, it’s Miller time!’ I got some other shocking information. Tell you this? I know you don’t know this, so I feel it’s my duty to tell you, thus to pass on knowledge: alcohol brrrrrrrrrrrrrr is a FUCKIN’ DRUG! . . . a). b) – and here comes the big one – brrrrrrrrrrrr alcohol kills more people than crack, coke and heroin COMBINED EACH YEAR! Da na na, na na na. ‘This Bud’s for you, this drug is for you, this drug is for you. It’s OK to drink your drug. Ha ho, yeah! We meant those other drugs. Those untaxed drugs. Those are the bad ones.’ Aww, you knew that, right? Come on, yeah, you did. And thank God they’re taxing alcohol, man. It means we have those great roads we can get fucked up and drive on. Thank God they’re taxing this shit, huh? We’d be doing doughnuts in a wheatfield right now. Thank God we’re on a highway. Whoooo! (crash) My point is, I wasn’t a criminal when I did drugs. No more than you’re a criminal cos you drink a beer. People who do drugs are not criminals. They might be sick . . . but I don’t think jail’s gonna heal anybody. ‘Yeah, thank God they caught me. Oh, what was I doing, ruining my life with that marijuana? I wanna thank Bubba, my new rehabilitator back there.’ I would not come out of jail wanting to do less drugs. I would wanna come out mainlining heroin into my fucking eyeballs . . . think it would only escalate. Which, by the way, I think all evidence points to that. Ha ha! OK. I deal only in facts. That’s why I’m a cocky fucking bastard. Ha ha ha! My life is infinitely better now that I’ve quit taking drugs. But my life would be infinitely worse had I ever been arrested for taking drugs. That’s my fucking point.