Solo performer: George Carlin.

Recorded live at the Beacon Theatre, New York, New York on February 6, 1999.

YOU ARE ALL DISEASED was nominated for the 2000 Grammy Award for Best Spoken Comedy Album.

As the years progress, George Carlin only gets angrier -- and, considering that the world is just getting more ridiculous, that may be the only response. Fortunately, his anger keeps him sharp, and that's why he's still fascinating and funny in 1999, when most of his peers have dried up. The key to his success is that he doesn't continue to recycle his routines -- he writes new material which illustrates that he's not just a comedian, he's a commentator. He tackles a number of subjects on You Are All Diseased, from familiar items like "Airport Security" to the silly cigar boom of the late '90s, television, religion, and "American Bullshit." Some of this is dead-on and some of it suffers from a delivery that is a bit too reminiscent of past routines, but it's all entertaining and the best of it ranks with the best of his past work. Not many comedians could claim that their latter-day work is as good as the stuff that made their name, and that's a strong testament to Carlin's skills, talent and wit. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Throughout the '70s, George Carlin reigned supreme as the hip comedian's comedian, skewering the inanity of modern life with detachment and stoned, articulate wit. Carlin's take has changed a bit over the years. Instead of slying sending up the little absurdities of life and language, the older Carlin has largely substituted rage for bemusement. This certainly changes the flavor of his comedy. But Carlin is still never less than feverishly inspired, and he's often extremely funny.

Carlin is utterly unfettered by notions of political corrections. His humor is profane, scatological, and insulting to nearly everyone at some point or another. YOU'RE ALL DISEASED is a live recording of a 1998 cable TV special, and the disc captures Carlin at his apoplectic best. Whether he's decrying the idiocy of swabbing off prisoners' arms before they receive a lethal injection, bemoaning the popularity of angels, or lambasting parents for thinking their kids are cuter than they are, Carlin deftly mines the landscape of human annoyance.