A great man passed on into the vast unknown last month. Although I think he had a pretty good idea of what is to come. Carlin had this world figured out like few I have ever seen. Pointing out the depraved, redundant, and absurd where no one else would. He wasn't ever aiming for shock value; the unfortunate truth of the matter is that this world really is as obscene as he made it out to be, to the T. When I was younger—or rather, back in my formative years—he taught me a great many lessons about life and how to handle it, how to understand it and how to do so without going completely insane.

So it goes without saying that his death seemed all too prophetic to me. A man who built his career on making the insanities of everyday life glaringly obvious, dies at the age of 71 of a heart attack. At such a crucial time too, is it a sign of the impending shit storm on the horizon? Or just a man whose ticket had been called? My brain says the latter, but instinct screams the former. An under qualified old white man, terrified of change is holding the reigns to the United States. And a clone—cleverly disguised, renamed and retooled mind you—is a serious contender for his position. Eight years of Nixon must have been intense, but I don’t think it can hold a candle to the situation we're all looking at right now. Spying on your citizens through illegal and subversive ways for means that aren't always justified is bad enough, but thinking the Iraq War is going to be a 100-year ordeal? That's where I draw the line. John McCain is my generation's Tricky Dick. He embodies the dark side of the American dream more than anyone I could imagine. The sort of guy that would tell the American people in the of a Housing Market crisis to "buck up, get another job, and skip your vacations," while he is able to sleep in a different house each night of the week.... No, really.

And as I type, over 200 DEA agents are beginning to wake up and enjoy their continental breakfast at the Red Lion Hotel in Humboldt County, California. Preparing for a long hard day of extending the Federal governments power farther than it was designed to. Rumour has it all 215 medical marijuana growers and dispensaries are going to be raided over the next week. How is it that when the U.S. constitution says powers not delegated to the federal government are left for the states to decide on individually, the DEA can still march wherever they damn well please and steal legitimate medication from the sick? Seems a tad on the counter-productive side really. I would rather see the drug czar siccing his hounds on speed freaks and coke fiends trying to rob my house, than a pothead knocking on my door, politely asking to borrow a lighter.

It's getting out of hand nowadays. I can feel a strain on my heart as well. The cops in Austin are getting more and more aggressive. When you look into your rearview and see one of the Wilcos, all you can do is stare ahead, zone out to your music and try as hard as you can to keep your heart rate below panic levels. Because one slip, no matter how mild will probably end with a rough encounter with them. No stop is treated as ordinary, everyone has trunks full of crack, guns, and money judging by the way they treat the average citizens. I can't even imagine what the tension must be like in Humboldt right now, thicker than the air in Hong Kong at least, I'm sure.

I guess the upshot to all this is that at least we don't have to worry about Hillary Clinton throwing a wrench into the gears of the only machine capable of pulling us out of the sinkhole we're in. What a horrible end to the Democratic party if their last and final shot at slaying the bearded grey dragon was left in the hands of someone more likely to kill everyone else—metaphorically speaking. But the way the last five years or so have gone it wouldn't surprise me all that much.

I think it was the right time for Mr. Carlin to take his final bow, he probably knew it too. I'm surprised his heart held out as long as it did, some of the subjects he loved to joke about make my blood boil in any serious conversation. You have to feel that to be able to joke about it, it's the only thing that brings the heart rate back to a reasonable pace. The world is getting weirder every day, it's time for the rest of us to take the burden to question the status quo onto our shoulders. If Carlin kept it up another week, I fear his head might have exploded. Rest well friend, you've earned it more than any of us alive today.