Bill Hicks was born on 16/12/61 but sadly died at the age of 32 on 26/2/94. He was a very loved and respected comedian, especially among other comedians. This book has been made up by John Lahr in 2004 and is a collection of Bill's comedy routines, letters and lyrics.
This book is absolute rubbish and I will vote it the minimum of one star on Goodreads . The content does not work as a book and it is the worst book I have ever read. Love All the People never moves on because it is so shallow in content. Bill's stand up routines are repeated time and time again as an account of each venue is replayed. His routines revolve around the war on drugs, how musicians have used drugs to become creative, magic mushrooms, smoking, the Kennedy asassination, the Waco seige, celebrity endorsements, bland musicians, abortion, easter bunnies and creationism. These routines are repeated time and time again. The reader knows what is coming next in Bill's comedy routine because they have read it earlier in this dreadful book. This book could have been a quarter of it's size and the reader would have lost nothing, rather than wasting their time reading more of the same as Bill retells his comedy routines. These jokes might have been amusing the first time you read them but with constant repettition they become tiresome.
To give a flavour of Bill's humour, here are a few snips...
That’s what I hate about the war on drugs, I’ll be honest with you, it’s what I can’t stand is all day long when we see those commercials:
‘Here’s your brain, here’s your brain on drugs’,
‘Just say no’,
‘Why do you think they call it dope?’
And then the next commercial is:
‘This Bud’s for you.’
Come on everybody, let’s be hypocritical bastards. It’s OK to drink your drug. (laughs) We meant those other drugs. Those untaxed drugs. Those are the ones that are bad for ya. Nicotine, alcohol . . . good drugs. Coincidentally, taxed drugs. Oh, how does this fucking work?
...With the presidential election currently taking place here, it has become more and more obvious that there is one political party in America, and that is – THE BUSINESS PARTY. And, in order to placate the masses with the illusion of democracy, they hold a purely ceremonial election every four years while their propaganda arm – the corporate-owned mainstream media – obediently and even gleefully plays it to the hilt, as though there was actually a choice and you, the American people, were the ones getting to make that choice.
...‘Whaddya say we stay inside tonight, baby? Let’s let the pizza delivery guy deal with that shit out there. Hello? Pizza delivery, could you send another car over please. I know that’s your third one, that last guy almost made it. I can almost reach the pizza box with the broom handle. How come those pitbulls are eating your driver but they’re not touching that fucking pizza? What do they know that we don’t know, hellooo?’
...And this fascination with fucking chips – french fries. You call ’em chips; they’re french fries. I love fries, don’t get me wrong. If you leave here tonight going, ‘Bill doesn’t like fries’ . . . you’ll be wrong. But every single fucking time you eat? Come on! You’re having too many fries! You’re over your spud quota. Everything has these. I saw hookers on London streets going, ‘Head and chips!’ You may think you’ve gotten good head before, but unless you’ve had it with a big, hot, piping plate of fries in front of you .
...OK, here we go. It’s about my life as I did growing up in a happy, healthy, loving family: ‘Good evening everybody. Momma never beat me and Daddy never fucked me. Good night!’ (in deep voice) ‘T-shirts are on sale in the lobby.’ In Stokey West Virginia, people come up, real excited: ‘That was a great show. Liked it a lot. Little long . . . but ah . . . my attention span wavered towards the end. One thing though: that part about your dad never fucking you – that’s a joke, right?’ Course it is.
Is that a bus? I’m outa here.
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