American Scream - the Bill Hicks Story

Bill beat them to death. Verbose and belligerent, banal and brilliant, Hicks would beat you with a joke until you weren’t sure it was funny any more. But you’d still laugh. Advertising advocates he indicated, would be best dealt with through suicide. Like lemmings, but really jumping. Clearly he can’t have so concisely come down on those poor cretins alone. Blasting and berating the bourgeoisie, leaving no stone unturned. Advocating erogenous interaction and nature’s narcotics never felt so fresh. He cut a legendary figure, shining in mono on the stage, an anti-hero in the spotlight, questioning the questionable and querying great quandaries for our bite-sized attention spans. All joking asides and jeering anecdotes. The great, the goat, Gods and grass gripped us throughout. In his own immortal words, life is just a ride. Rails and loops, dips and troughs. Thrills and chills. Bill’s the ticket inspector. Taking names and kicking ass.