Of course, it’s George Carlin. Man, 71 is just too early to go, especially for someone who showed no signs of slowing down, at least in the quality of his material. Last week was very depressing.

I interviewed George for City Paper and started with a softball question about any movies or novels he might enjoy. His quick response surprised me: “I don’t have time for other people’s dreams,” he said. It wasn’t a knock on anyone else’s work, rather an acknowledgment that he was busy filling his own mind with the facts and figures of the world, the better to understand, and deconstruct, it for our amusement.

Louis C.K. has a nice appreciation, as does, surprisingly, Michael Ian Black. (Though he also complains that Carlin’s death kept his book, My Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face out of the No. 2 spot. Wiseass.

I trust George is finally eating pork chops with Jesus.

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