You’re sitting in a small comedy club because a friend suggested—no, insisted—that you come here. After protesting a bit, you eventually relented.
The club has an odd vibe. Some of the audience look like 1960’s hippies; others are 2024 AI engineers. A guy in back keeps shouting, “Elvis rocks!”
The host is about 95 years old, but has a contagious energy and a gleam in his eye. He steps to the microphone and says, “I was wandering around out back and found this guy. If you’re old enough, you just might find him familiar.”
An even older man comes onstage. His head is tilted to the side; his hair bedraggled and much too long. Wait a minute… is that George Carlin? Before you can process the idea of a dead comedian mysteriously coming back to life, he starts ranting…
“Ever notice how every mystic and sage sounds like they’ve been smoking something real good? They all wake up one morning, stretch out, and suddenly go: Wow, I’m everything! Even the lint in my belly button.
“They claim they’re one with the universe, in this big, eternal group hug. Sounds like someone skipped their meds, right?"
The guy in back screams, "Elvis rocks!"
Carlin gives a knowing look that says: see what I mean? He barely skips a beat and keeps ranting...
“Then you got people suggesting what these other folks need is a therapist. Yeah, 'cause what the universe really needs is to work through its daddy issues and low self-esteem, right? ‘Tell me about your mother, Mr. Cosmos.’
“Hold your horses, what if they’re onto something? What if we’re actually on this cosmic escalator, going from matter to body to mind to soul to spirit, each level a new floor in the universe’s weirdest mall? And at the top floor, you don’t just get a food court, but infinity itself, all-you-can-eat existence!
“And then there’s the alternative, that all of existence is just cosmic gibberish. A big, fat, universal 'Oops!' Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?
“Between a universe with a deep soul and a cosmic accident with less meaning than a reality TV show, which one would you bet on?”
Carlin, now really getting into his groove, leans in as if to share a secret with the crowd, his voice a blend of wisdom and wry humor. You look towards your friend, but the chair next to you is empty.
"Now, folks, no matter what you believe—whether you're on Team Cosmic Consciousness or the captain of the Skeptics Squad—it really pays to be an explorer. I mean, curiosity didn't kill the cat; boredom did. Be that cat with nine lives, sniffing out the mysteries of the universe, but keep one paw on the ground, okay?
“Be the person you've always wanted to meet. You know, the one who moves through the world with a bit of grace, a dash of compassion, and a healthy dose of 'I don't give a damn what you think.' And here's the kicker…
“Never, and I mean ever, take someone else's word as gospel. Especially when it comes to the big-ticket items: life, love, reality, God. These are the areas in which everyone's got a theory, but no one's got a clue."
“Remember, in the grand scheme of things, all anyone can hand you is a formula. And what's a formula? It's what used to be reality, that someone else chewed up and spit out. The moment you grab that formula, you're seeing the world not as it is, but as they told you it should be."
“Be your own mystic or sage, minus the crazy eyes and the unsolicited advice. Wash your clothes and clean your house, but dip your toes into the mysteries that surround us."
“Explore, question, dive deep into the cosmic unknown, but do it on your terms. And when someone tries to sell you the 'ultimate truth,' remember that the only truth worth knowing is the one you discover for yourself, in that beautifully bizarre space deep inside you."
“At the end of the day, what we're all looking for—whether it's through a telescope, a microscope, or a horoscope—is a connection. A little hint that we're not just cosmic accidents but part of something bigger, something mysterious, something that makes us feel alive.
“So, go ahead, take a walk on the wild side of the cosmos. Just remember to wear comfortable shoes and to expect the unexpected. Because if you can’t trust a dead comedian, you probably shouldn’t trust anyone but the wisdom inside you."
And, just as those last few words echo in your ears, your alarm clock goes off and another day begins.