UNFORGOTTEN — GEORGE CARLIN: A PROPHET IN A COMEDIAN’S CLOTHES 🥸
WHY HIS RANTS ABOUT RACE, LANGUAGE, AND POWER HIT HARDER TODAY THAN EVER
Speaking Truth Without Apology
George Carlin (1937 – 2008) was possibly one of the last prophets. Not in the religious sense—although he had plenty to say about that too—but as a truth-teller. A court jester who knew exactly what strings to pull, which sacred cows to grill, and how to serve it all with a side of belly laughs and biting clarity.
What I love most about Carlin is that he didn’t just say things that were funny. He said things that were true—or rather, uncomfortably real. He didn’t hedge, apologise, or water down his thoughts to suit trends. He made you laugh and think, sometimes in that order, sometimes both at once. And if you disagreed? He didn’t care. He never seemed to perform for applause.
Today, I’m not sure he’d survive unscathed. He’d likely be cancelled, misquoted, vilified, or banned entirely. But that’s precisely why we need his voice now more than ever. So this post is both a tribute to Carlin and a little love letter to intelligent life out there—those still willing to listen, question, laugh, and think.
Below are some short Carlin clips—each followed by reflections, commentary, and just enough historical context to remind us: the more things change, the more absurd they can get.
The Indian Problem (And the Language Around It)
🔗 Watch here
Carlin begins this bit by examining the evolution of the word “Indian” to “Native American” to whatever polite phrasing has most recently passed the committee of cultural censors. His question is sharp and simple: Is the name change really helping? Or is it another way we avoid accountability by hiding behind language?
As always, he cuts through the noise. If a population is being systematically erased or mistreated, a linguistic tweak won’t make it right. It’s the equivalent of putting a scented candle in a gas chamber.
Carlin doesn’t mock the people—he mocks the performative pretence of care that does nothing to address the real harm.
What’s terrifying is how often this still happens today. We invent new terms, labels, hashtags, and euphemisms while the issues remain unresolved—or worse, intentionally ignored.
He forces us to ask: Do we actually want change, or just better PR?
"People of Color" – Where’s the Color Chart?
In this follow-up bit, Carlin doesn’t just go after euphemisms—he tackles the often-absurd umbrella terms we use to lump wildly different groups into vague, well-meaning categories. “People of color” is one of his targets.
His weapon? A simple, hilarious question: Where’s the color chart?
He imagines people lining up with paint swatches to determine who qualifies, because—seriously—what does “person of color” even mean?
Black? Brown? Tan? Olive? Beige? Light caramel mocha with oat milk?
Carlin exposes the ridiculousness of using abstract, feel-good labels that supposedly unify, but actually erase individuality and complexity. The term “people of color” attempts inclusivity, but it often flattens entire identities into one bland, digestible concept—convenient mostly for those in power who don’t want to get too specific.
It’s not about accuracy, it’s about optics. And that, to Carlin, is always fair game.
In today’s world, we still play these games. We pretend that progressive terminology alone can undo centuries of inequality. But as Carlin shows, slapping on a new label doesn’t change a system. If anything, it gives it a fresh coat of paint—while the rot underneath continues to spread.
Talking Race Without Filters
George Carlin didn’t do “safe.” He did truth—with teeth. In this clip, he aims deeper into one of the most popular progressive phrases of our time, just mentioned: “people of color.”
And he does what few dare to: he calls out the hypocrisy in the language.
His point is simple and razor-sharp: If you’re uncomfortable saying “colored people,” why are you so comfortable saying “people of color”? Same words, different order, different social acceptability. Magic? Nope—just linguistic politics and a lot of selective outrage.
Carlin then pulls the curtain even further: everyone has color. Nobody’s colorless. White people? Also shades of color. Pink, peach, pasty, sunburnt, taupe, ruddy, olive, sickly green after a bad night out—you name it. So what exactly are we trying to say?
He’s not playing semantic games—he’s exposing how absurd and performative these shifts in language can be. The phrase “people of color” sounds progressive, but when you really look at it, it’s just the old game in new packaging. It groups people together in a way that ignores their differences, while making those using the term feel evolved and ethical.
Carlin wasn’t buying it.
His genius wasn’t just in noticing the problem—it was in stripping away the illusion that saying something nicely means you’ve said something meaningful. As usual, he bypasses the drama and emotion and goes straight for the mental laziness hidden in plain sight.
It’s not a call to be crude—it’s a call to be clear. To stop pretending that wrapping prejudice or categorisation in soft language somehow makes it better.
And let’s be honest: if we need a color chart to figure out who belongs in which euphemism, maybe the euphemism itself needs to go.
Words Matter – Especially to Those Who Love Them
Carlin wasn’t just a comedian—he was a wordsmith, a linguistic craftsman with zero tolerance for fluff, euphemism, or fake politeness masquerading as progress. He didn’t love words because they could be bent to make people feel better. He loved them for their precision, their power, their punch.
In this clip, Carlin dives into the way society continuously sanitises language under the illusion of kindness. But what really happens? The truth gets buried. Meaning becomes murky. And soon we’re saying things like “differently abled” or “pre-owned vehicle” or “non-traditional success journey” instead of just calling things what they are.
For Carlin, that’s not compassion—it’s comedy. And not the funny kind.
He tears into this cultural phenomenon with surgical precision, showing how phrases are softened until they become meaningless. Words once used to illuminate are now used to obfuscate. And all in the name of not hurting anyone’s feelings—at the cost of clarity, honesty, and sometimes even reality itself.
To someone who loves language, this isn't just irritating—it’s offensive. Carlin mocks the mental gymnastics it takes to avoid simple truths, and exposes how convoluted our communication has become. You don’t need three syllables when one will do, and you certainly don’t need to dress up reality just because it’s uncomfortable.
Twisting language into oblivion to avoid discomfort doesn’t make us more humane—it makes us less honest. And Carlin couldn’t let that go unroasted.
In a world of spin and scripted virtue, his straight talk feels like a rare breath of oxygen.
Words are my medium too. I write because language is the lens through which we shape meaning, truth, identity. It matters. And Carlin was a master at showing how our words can reveal—or conceal—what’s really going on.
Words Keep Changing – And That’s Not Always Progress
Carlin was deeply suspicious of euphemism and politically correct language—not because he wanted to offend, but because he hated how it diluted reality.
"Shell shock" became "post-traumatic stress disorder." "Cripples" became "differently abled." The point wasn’t the terminology—it was the intention behind it. If language evolves to respect people, that’s good. But when it evolves to hide reality, it becomes dangerous.
This is especially true in politics, media, and corporate culture. We’re now so far into the swamp of sanitised jargon that we don’t even know what anything means anymore.
As Carlin warned: "Smug, greedy, well-fed white people have invented a language to conceal their sins." And we’re still doing it.
Midgets, Dwarfs, and the Offense Olympics
This is where Carlin really flexes his intolerance for intellectual dishonesty, especially when it comes to language. His bit on midgets and dwarfs is one of those moments where you laugh out loud while wincing at how spot-on he is. He cuts straight through the social noise with his usual unapologetic blade of common sense: “Midgets and dwarfs are not little people. Infants are little people.”
In classic Carlin fashion, he strips away all the performative politeness and calls out the growing absurdity of euphemistic language. Dwarfs and midgets are medical or colloquial terms with specific meanings, and suddenly we're told to erase them and replace them with vague, infantilising phrases like “little people” or “vertically challenged.” As if renaming reality somehow dignifies it more than simply acknowledging it for what it is.
To Carlin, this isn’t compassion—it’s confusion. Worse, it’s hypocrisy wrapped in virtue signalling.
His take? If a word has a function, use it. If you need to soften everything just to avoid offending someone, maybe the problem isn’t the language—it’s our fragile relationship with the truth. Carlin doesn't believe in bending reality to suit someone else’s sensitivities. You describe what is, not what makes people feel better about it.
And once again, he’s not making fun of people—he’s making fun of the system that infantilises adults by pretending that clarity is cruelty.
With biting wit and clinical accuracy, he exposes the bloated, bureaucratic language gymnastics of the “Offense Olympics,” where everyone’s racing not for justice, but for the moral high ground in who can be offended fastest and loudest.
For Carlin, clear speech is clear thinking. And that’s why he calls it what it is.
FAT – The Word No One Wants to Hear
In one of his sharpest and most brutally honest bits, Carlin takes on two sacred cows of politically correct language: cripples and fat people. And he doesn’t tiptoe around either.
First, the term crippled. A word that’s fallen out of favor, replaced by soft-sounding phrases like “physically challenged” or “differently abled.” Carlin calls out the absurdity of dressing up reality in vague, saccharine language. A person who can’t walk isn’t “mobility impaired”—they’re crippled. It’s not an insult unless you make it one. The problem isn’t the word—it’s the attitude behind it. Changing the words won’t change how people are treated unless the truth is acknowledged first.
And then comes fat—a word we’ve practically criminalised. Today, we say people are “big boned,” “heavy,” or even “gravitationally challenged.” Carlin brilliantly skewers these verbal contortions with his trademark logic: Dinosaurs are big boned. An aircraft carrier is heavy. Being fat is neither a mystery nor a moral failing—it’s a descriptor. A neutral fact. Yet we act like saying the word is a hate crime.
To Carlin, this desperate attempt to protect feelings by butchering language is not progress—it’s regression. Euphemisms don’t empower people; they only disconnect us from reality and weaken communication. In trying not to offend, we’ve created a minefield where honesty is the first casualty.
And again, Carlin isn’t mocking individuals. He’s mocking a culture that’s so allergic to discomfort that it would rather pretend reality is optional. That’s the real punchline—and the tragedy.
In this bit, Carlin isn’t just poking fun. He’s offering a public service announcement: language should illuminate, not obscure. And fat is fat—not an emotional diagnosis in need of a PR makeover.
The Illusion of Choice – Who Really Owns You
🔗 Watch: “The Owners of This Country”
In what might be Carlin’s most sobering and unapologetically raw performance, he lifts the curtain on the machinery of modern democracy and spits out the bitter truth: you’re not in control—and you never were.
He doesn’t mince words. The so-called American Dream (or substitute your country's equivalent) is only called a dream because you have to be asleep to believe it. According to Carlin, the real power doesn’t lie with politicians, and it certainly doesn’t lie with the people. It lies with the owners of this country—big corporations, the elites who shape policy, media, education, healthcare, and every major system we pretend is there to serve us.
Politicians? They’re just the hired help. Their job is to make us feel like we have a choice. Coke or Pepsi. Red party or Blue. But it’s all branding. A curated illusion designed to keep us distracted while the real decisions get made in boardrooms, not parliaments.
Carlin doesn’t just rant—he diagnoses. He explains why education is intentionally kept mediocre, why the system doesn’t want thinkers—it wants obedient workers, people just smart enough to operate the machinery and just dumb enough to accept the deal they’ve been handed without asking too many questions.
This is Carlin as social surgeon: cutting deep, pulling no punches, and daring us to look at what bleeds out.
It’s a call to wake up—not to join a political party, but to stop being played. To start asking the uncomfortable questions. To remember that real power begins with awareness—and that those who benefit most from our silence have spent a lot of money making sure we never find our voices.
If you watch this clip and still believe you're in charge, Carlin would probably say you're exactly where they want you.
Why This Still Matters - Common Sense Is a Threat
George Carlin wasn’t just a comedian. He was a one-man resistance movement armed with nothing but common sense, a razor-sharp mind, and the audacity to say what everyone else was too scared—or too programmed—to say.
He didn’t care about sounding nice. He cared about sounding real. He dissected the absurdity of political correctness, racial double standards, euphemistic language, and corporate control, not because he was trying to shock people, but because he wanted them to wake the hell up.
Today, he’d be labeled controversial. Maybe even canceled. But that only proves his point. We’ve become a society where truth is offensive, reality is inconvenient, and words are weaponised not to clarify, but to confuse, control, and silence.
Carlin didn’t want obedient citizens who tow the party line. He wanted people to think, to ask why, to call out nonsense when they see it—whether it comes from the left, the right, or the corporate center that owns them both.
He showed us that if you want to stay sane in a world that’s gone mad with euphemisms and distractions, you have to laugh—but more importantly, you have to question.
So here’s the real tribute:
Don’t just laugh at Carlin’s jokes. Live them.
Use your brain. Trust your gut. Speak plainly. Ask questions.
And when someone tries to tell you the sky isn’t blue because it might offend someone—channel your inner Carlin and call bullshit.
Because if we don’t, the owners of this place will keep tightening the grip, while we sit around arguing over what words we’re allowed to use.
Well, if crime fighters fight crime and fire fighters fight fire, what do freedom fighters fight? They never mention that part to us, do they? — George Carlin
🎶My Song for you
I thought Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears For Fears would fit nicely with this post.
For more good music, go to this Spotify playlist where you can find all the songs from the Change & Evolve Letters!
📚My Poem for you
Is by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850—1919)
Creation
The impulse of all love is to create. God was so full of love, in his embrace He clasped the empty nothingness of space, And low! the solar system! High in state The mighty sun sat, so supreme and great With this same essence, one smile of its face Brought myriad forms of life forth; race on race, From insects up to men. Through love, not hate, All that is grand in nature or in art Sprang into being. He who would build sublime And lasting works, to stand the test of time, Must inspiration draw from his full heart. And he who loveth widely, well, and much, The secret holds of the true master touch.
👀Impression
Sometimes you just need to chill…
What is your take on George Carlin and his very special way to address issues we face?
Let me know your thoughts in the comments, leave a ❤️ or send me a message. I always love hearing from you.
Wishing you a happy weekend wherever you are.
Yours
Tanja 🤗
PS. You can now also find my podcast on Spotify
Change & Evolve and feel free to get in touch