THE ASTEROID NEVER CAME — BUT GEORGE CARLIN MIGHT STILL BE TRYING

On March 29, 2025, the Earth kept on spinning. No asteroid came. No planet-ending event. Just more headlines, more tweets, more pundits smirking through the chaos. If you blinked, you might’ve missed it — but humanity narrowly avoided exactly nothing.

And yet, for those of us who spent the day watching the sky, not in fear, but in hope... maybe we were rooting for something else.

THE PLANET IS FINE. THE PEOPLE ARE FUCKED.

George Carlin said it best:

“The planet is fine. The people are fucked.”

He didn’t believe Earth needed saving. Earth had seen worse — ice ages, volcanic winters, mass extinctions. What was humanity in the grand scheme of things? A temporary rash on the planet’s crust. An evolutionary typo with nuclear weapons and a fondness for reality television.

Carlin was never sentimental. He loved language, not politicians. He trusted a dictionary more than a ballot box. And when he joked about rooting for the asteroid — the “big comet to come and make things right” — it wasn’t because he hated life. It was because he couldn’t stand the bullshit.

A WORLD THAT DESERVED A PUNCHLINE

If Carlin were alive today, 2025 would be his playground and his battleground. A former president with 91 felony counts running on a platform of vengeance. Climate denial wearing a suit and smiling on Fox News. Billionaires turning Earth into a landfill while promising salvation on Mars — at a premium price.

He’d eviscerate the pundits, the piety, the professional grifters selling survival gear between ads for crypto and colon cleanses. He’d tear into the new McCarthyists banning books, the self-help charlatans on Instagram, the corporate slogans pretending to be moral philosophy.

And he’d probably remind us:

“It’s not a left-wing thing. It’s not a right-wing thing. It’s a wingless, brainless, ball-less thing — and it’s flapping around with a smartphone and a podcast.”

MAYBE HE’S OUT THERE

It’s hard not to imagine George Carlin somewhere in the ether, cracking jokes to dark matter, lecturing quasars on the art of irony, and trying to convince a rogue comet to reroute its path.

“Come on, baby. One little skim past Washington. You don't even have to hit — just scare the shit out of them.”

Maybe he’s the ghost in the static when someone says what everyone’s thinking. Maybe he’s why a weed-smoking teenager in Iowa just called Congress a corporate septic tank on TikTok. Maybe that’s the ripple effect of honesty.

LAUGHING THROUGH THE APOCALYPSE

We’re still here. The asteroid didn’t come. But the problems didn’t leave, either. The circus is still in town. The clowns have tenure. The ringmasters run on cable. And the audience? Most of them are on their phones, doomscrolling for dopamine.

But there’s something sacred in laughter that doesn’t flinch. In truth that doesn’t care whose team you’re on. In comedians who pull back the curtain and say, “Look at this mess — we built it.”

George Carlin didn’t want us to give up. He just wanted us to see it clearly before we decided what to do next. And maybe, just maybe, to laugh — not because it’s funny, but because it’s true.

The asteroid didn’t smash into Earth yesterday. But if Carlin has any say in it... it’s still circling the block.

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