Richard Pryor’s Life in Concert
Murmur of the Fart
God comes down to earth as a comedian, right? He’s been trying to get in touch with people for years and he’s not having much luck. So he figures, why not give television a shot? That’s the way God works, sort of trial and error.
Anyway, he comes down to earth, and naturally, being God, he’s the best fucking comedian you can imagine. He’s got the moves, the mind, the insight, and he writes his own material – the down-to-earth humor of life. God’s point is to show people the cosmic connection between the three H’s – honesty, humor and humanity – a corny sounding idea, but that’s the way God thinks. Big clichés. God feels if people learn this truth, they’ll be able to survive life, and maybe even enjoy it.
So God takes a meeting with the top guys at NBC, Fred Silverman and his associates, and pitches a special, He wants to do his act on prime time. Silverman asks God what kind of material he’s got, and God hits him with one of his favorite routines. He calls it “the Human Animal,” and it goes something like this:
“Despite their intelligence, which is superior to any other living thing, despite their most profound works of art, literature, science and technology…men and women still fuck, shit, piss and fart like dogs, That’s right, Bach, Einstein, Madame Curie – ”
“Okay, okay, God,” says Silverman, “I think we got it. It’s, uh, it’s good stuff, good stuff. But, um…it’ll never get on. It’s too dirty.”
“Too dirty!”
“Right. Standards and Practices will never go for it.”
God is fuming. “I’ll tell you what’s dirty – you want to talk dirty? Censoring God is dirty. Censoring the human bodies that I created is dirty. Censoring the way human beings normally talk and have fun is dirty.”
“Aw, God, get serious,” snaps Silver-man. “It’s not a question of censoring you. It’s a question of answering to all the decency fanatics and the politicians and the FCC.”
God looks Silverman in the eye. “And the sponsors?” he asks. Silverman stares at the ground and shuffles his feet. “Yeah, the sponsors…but they’ll go for anything that sells, you know that. Look, God, personally I agree with you. My job would be a lot more fun without the censors and fanatics.”
“Don’t worry about them,” says God. “I know how to handle these people.”
Silverman smiles warily. “You sure?”
“Trust me,” says God. “You take care of the sponsors, I’ll take care of the nuts. Get me an hour on prime time and I promise you’ll never have to worry about censorship again.”
Silverman shrugs and says he’ll do his best.
They shake hands, God takes off and Silverman hits the intercom. “Tell security to keep that trouble-maker off the premises.”
Thoroughly confused, the associates stare at Silverman and each other. “Look, fellas,” he says, “God means well, he’s an idealist, right? But the bottom line is, Standards and Practices will never buy it. If we let God say ‘fuck’ on national television, these people are out of a job for life. In fact, we’ll all be looking for work.
“And besides,” he continues, lighting a cigar, “if you ask me, the guy lacks charisma.”
Richard Pryor’s Life in Concert, Page 1 of 5