Duckman was ahead of it's time.
"We need women who never meet desirable men. That's why were here. Let's face it, if you can't score at a Star Trek convention, you might as well be dead."
"Bunch of thin-skinned, no-humor pansies! You tell them an ice-breaker or two about women's libbers, gays, environmentalists, several minorities, the homeless, couple of religions, anorexics, obese people, the handicapped, old farts, baldness, and people who walk real goofy because they've just had a vasectomy, and suddenly, they get all sensitive, like I offended one of them or something!"
But Duckman was best known for his incredible rants performed at machine-gun rate. They are hilarious and thought-provoking at the same time, which was just a product of excellent writing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knIroVvPZU4
"I know you all came here to see Iggy Catalpa, because you think he's funny, because you like his style, because you just plain like him, right? But you just think you do. Because you were manipulated into thinking you do by him: King Chicken. He did it the same way they manipulate us into buying toothpaste, car wax, even politicians. All pre-packaged, the least offensive, most appealing alternative. But it's precisely when humor is offensive that we need it most. Comedy should provoke. It should blast through prejudices, challenge preconceptions. Comedy should always leave you different than when it found you. Sure humor can hurt even alienate but the risk is better than the alternative; a steady diet of innocuous, child proof, flavorless mush. Demand to be challenged, to be offended, to be treated like thinking, reasoning adults and raise your children to be the same. Don't let a comedian, a network, a congressional committee, or an evil genius take away your freedom to laugh at whatever you want."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=blppKS-nz9g
"Don't you see what's it's like living in this deranged, Waring blender of a world? Every day is an agonizing ordeal, like balancing a pot of scalding water on your head while people whip your legs and butt. Ah, you never forget your senior prom. You think I'm sick? Well the only disease I've got is modern life, a shnug-busting gauntlet of inefficiency and misery that's one long parade of letdowns, putdowns, trickle-downs, shutouts, freezeouts, sellouts, numbnuts, nincompoops and nimrods! All making every day as much fun as waxing a flaming Pontiac with your tongue! And even if you do luck into the possibility of some fleeting pleasure, like say if some nymphomaniac telephone operator with the muscle control of Romanian mat slappers agree to a little strip air hockey, it will be over before it starts, 'cause some foul lacking, Feta-reeking cab jockey slams his checker up your hatchback and the cab is owned by some pinata-spanker from a Santaria cult who starts shaking chicken bones at you and gives you a boil on your neck so big that all it needs is Michael Jordan's autograph to make it complete! And even with all this, with all this! I still drag my sorry butt off the Sealy every morning and stick my face in the reaping machine for one more day! Knowing when it's time to flash the cosmic card key at those pearly gates, I won't be in the coffin anyways, because some underhanded undertaker sold my heart, pancreas and other assorted good and plenty to that same Santaria cult! So does anybody really wonder why anybody is hanging onto sanity by the atoms on the tips of their fingernails, while life dirty dances on their digits, and is it really any wonder THAT I SEEM DERANGED?"
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