George Carlin

Let’s say a water main breaks in downtown Los Angeles and it floods an electrical substation, knocking out all the traffic lights and tying up the entire city and emergency vehicles can’t get through. And at the same time, one of those month long global warming heat waves comes along, but there’s no air-conditioning, there’s no water for sanitation, so cholera, smallpox and dysentery break out and thousands of people start dying in the streets. But before they die, parasites eat their brains, and they go completely fucking crazy, and they storm the hospital, but the hospital can’t handle all the casualties, so these people rape all the nurses and set the hospital on fire. And the flames drive them even crazier, so they start stabbing social workers and garbage men. And a big wind comes along, and the entire city goes up in flames. And the people who are still healthy, they get mad at the sick people, and they start crucifying them, nailing them to crosses, trying on their underwear, shit like that. Then everybody smokes crack and PCP, and they march on city hall, where they burn the mayor at the stake, they strangle his wife and take turns sodomizing the statue of Larry Flint.
And at this point it looks like pretty soon things are gonna start to get out of control.

So everyone panics and tries to leave the city at the same time, and they trample each other to death in the streets by the thousands and wild dogs eat their corpses. And the wild dogs chase the rest of the people down the highway and one by one the dogs pick off the old fucks and the slow people, because they’re in the fast lane where they don’t belong. Get the fuck out of the fast lane if you’re an old fuck, if you’re a slow fuck, get over on the right, get over on the right. And the lucky ones, the lucky people who manage to make it all the way to the outside of town, they discover when they get there, that big sparks from the city have lit the suburbs on fire. And the suburbs burn uncontrollably. And thousands of identical homes have identical fires have identical smoke, killing all the identical soccer mums and their identical kids named Jason and Jennifer. And now, the fire spreads to the farmlands and the farmlands burn intensely, at 425 degrees, creating millions of baked potatoes. As the farmlands burn, thousands of barns and farmhouses begin to explode from all the hidden methamphetamine labs. And the meth chemicals run downhill into the rivers and streams, where wild animals drink the water and get completely geeked on speed. So bears and wolves amped up on crack roam the countryside looking for people to eat, even though they’re not really hungry.
And the fire spreads to the forests and the forests burn furiously. And hundreds of elves and trolls and fairies come running out of the woods screaming, “Bambie is dead! Bambie is dead!”
And he is, he is, finally that fucking little cunt, Bambie is dead. Dead.

Now hundreds of fires of regional fires come together into one huge interstate inferno. And all 12 of the western united states are burning out of control, except Utah where the Mormons don’t allow fires. And the fire spreads across the Great Plains, toasting the wheat and cooking the cattle, producing hamburgers actually. Then it leaps to Mississippi, and races through the south, blowing up stills, interrupting lynchings and killing millions of inbred people. And then it turns north-east and it heads to Washington DC, where George Bush can’t decide if it’s an emergency or not. He can’t decide because Dick Chaney is in prison. So, instead he takes a nap, he puts his empty fucking brainless head on the little pillow that his mother gave him at Christmas time, and he takes a nap. So the fire moves to Philadelphia, but it’s a weekend, and Philadelphia’s closed on the weekends. So the fire moves to New York City and the people in New York tell the fire to go fuck itself. And it does, so instead it burns down Long Island and Connecticut, killing all the rich white assholes and completely destroying their evil faggoty golf courses. And while all this is going on, Canada burns to the ground, but nobody notices.

And now the entire North American Continent is on fire, producing a huge thermal updraft, and creating an in seminary cyclonic macro system that forms a hemispheric mega-storm, breaking down the molecular structure of the atmosphere and actually changing the laws of nature. Fire and water combine, burning clouds of flaming rain fall upward, gamma rays and solar winds ignite the ionosphere, creating huge clouds of ionized plasma, bolts of lighting twenty million miles long begin shooting out of the north pole, AND THE SKY FILLS UP WITH GREEN SHIT. And then suddenly, the entire fabric of space-time splits in two, a huge crack in the universe opens. And all the dead people from the past begin falling through. Big Ruth, Groucho Marks, J.B. Crocket, Tiny Tim, Porky Pig, Hitler, Janise Joplin, Allan Linden, my uncle Dave, your uncle Dave, everybody’s uncle Dave, an endless stream of dead uncle Daves falling through the crack.

And all the dead Uncle Daves gather around a heavenly kitchen table, they light up cigarettes and begin to talk. They talk about they never got a break, how their parents didn’t love them and their children were ungrateful. They talk about how their government screwed them out of money and they just missed out on a big job. They say the Jews own everything and the blacks get special treatment. And all the hatred and bitterness drips out of these people, and forms a big pool of liquid hate. And the pool of liquid hate begins to spin, round and round it spins, faster and faster, and the faster it spins the bigger it gets, faster and faster, bigger and bigger, until the wurling pool of hate is bigger than the entire universe. And then suddenly it explodes into trillions of tiny stars, and every star has a trillion planets, and every planet has a trillion Uncle Daves. And all the Uncle Daves have good jobs, perfect eyesight and shoes that fit. They have great sex lives and free healthcare. They understand the internet, their kids think they’re cool, and they all love their neighbours. And every week, without fail, Uncle Dave wins the lottery, forever and ever until the end of time every single Uncle Dave has a winning ticket. And Uncle Dave is finally happy.

Now do you see why I like it when nature gets even with humans?"
-George Carlin