Stalking the stage at Austin's now-defunct Laff Stop, Bill Hicks has posed the idea that Dick Clark is the antichrist, bringing to the public such hellspawn creations as Tiffany, Wham, and Debbie Gibson. He surveys the crowd and then goes on to describe Clark unzipping his skin to reveal "a cloven-hooved, horned wolverine." The wolverine puts on Kenny Rogers for mood music, and then plants his brood in John Davidson, to be hatched during the offseason. Hicks' routine is explicit and precise, and it solicits both laughter and moans from the audience.

"Stop me if you've heard this."

On the surface, this routine could seem merely profane. But look closer. The routine is as much a symbol of American rebellion as James Dean's red windbreaker or Bob Dylan going electric. It was the comic tradition of Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor, and now Bill Hicks. One voice confronting the crowd with its own acceptance of the banal and stupid and dragging it back, sometimes kicking and screaming, to real thoughts and questions.

Bill Hicks roamed the American landscape like Voltaire's Candide on a caffeine high, blasting every institution he came upon with wit and righteous anger. From 1977, when he first sneaked out of his parents' house to perform in Houston's comedy clubs at the tender age of 15, to 1994, when pancreatic cancer took his life at age 32, Hicks was developing his voice. He started out taking on the things closest to him - his family, and the rube mentality he sometimes encountered in Houston. As his worldview expanded, so did his range of topics. Eventually, he was slugging away at everything he saw wrong with this world. Bill Clinton, George Bush, Ronald Reagan, pro lifers, cheesy musicians, talk show hosts, the religious right, nonsmokers. Pick any group, any philosophy. Chances are, he nailed them somewhere. And when he was done, stand up comedy was never the same.

Three years after his death, Hicks' legacy started to build up steam again. In 1997, Rykodisc released his first two albums, "Dangerous" and "Relentless," along with two albums, "Arizona Bay" and "Rant in E-minor," he was working on at the time of his death. He has received a flood of accolades from critics and stand-up comics alike. "It's Just A Ride" a special on Hicks which aired on Comedy Central, featured tributes from veteran stand-ups like Jay Leno, Richard Jeni, and Richard Belzer. And though he never got that big sit-com deal that seemed to drive comedians in the Seinfeld era, he earned a place in the conscience of many comedians.

"Bill Hicks would have to be in a pretty special sit-com," says Robert Schimmel, who shared the stage with Hicks in Rodney Dangerfield's "Nothing Goes Right," a young comedians spotlight. "Bill Hicks on HBO doing a show like Dennis Miller or Chris Rock? Absolutely. Bill Hicks on Tool Time? No. That wouldn't be him. He would be miserable."

His biggest breakthrough may be yet to come. Longtime Hicks collaborator Kevin Booth keeps Hicks' spirit alive at www.billhicks.com, and there is talk at Rykodisc of a possible new album and/or video release sometime this year. It will take more than death to silence this voice.

Billhicks.com