Fear and loathing and, yes, healing

Roseanne Barr isn’t laughing. The end of the world is coming and she, for one, is setting things right with God. Seriously. No punch line, no setup for a sarcastic bit about trailer parks or the working class.

The comedian best known as the domestic goddess who turned television on its ear in “Roseanne” from 1988 to 1997 is a 52-year-old grandmother who’s questioning this country’s family values.

But then, she can’t resist going in for the kill.

“We’ve worked really hard to make sure the world will blow up in 2006,” she says, sounding like the Roseanne of old. “The world’s going to end, why diet?”

Seated at a conference table in the modest studio where she makes kids’ videos, behind a restored storefront along a quaint section of downtown El Segundo, Barr shares how things look from the perspective of a comic with a conscience.

“God hates all humans. We should stop blaming God for what we do.... I read that in 10 years it will be too late to turn back environmentally,” she says, mentioning later that she just bought a Ford hybrid. “We’re poisoning everything, there’s global warming. Now they want to privatize water. What’s next, air?”

Age and grandchildren have mellowed her, the strong-minded comedian insists. But the fire that drives her humor could smolder for only so long.

On Saturday at the Long Beach Center Theater, Barr returns to the stage for her first full-fledged stand-up act in 14 years.

“[I’m] railing at the entire century,” she says, dressed in a flowing gold-print blouse, blue jeans and suede boots with spike heels. She looks healthy and vivacious -- in no way ready to retreat to the backyard bomb shelter quite yet.

When she first stepped on a stage in Denver in the 1980s, Barr “found a niche that wasn’t being filled,” she says. “And I kind of feel that now.”

Surprisingly, the subject matter hasn’t changed all that much -- politics, human rights, diets -- but has the comic?

Her stand-up act, “Let the Healing Begin,” is her tool to stir up parts of the human race that are far too uninvolved, she says. “I’ve always had hope -- I’m a hopeful nihilist,” she jokes.

In the past, her stubbornness, racy language and what some deemed inappropriate behavior got her in trouble with writers and producers, the media, ex-husbands, her own family and even the president of the United States.

Creatively, as the voice of the working class she rallied “fat people, gay people, people who don’t fit, all the disenfranchised.”

Personally, she’s made mistakes but now wants to “make things right,” especially where family is concerned.

Seated before a row of monitors at Full Moon & High Tide Studios, Barr watches segments of her latest children’s DVD. Her son Jake adjusts the equipment. He’s an editor for the studio, which also employs Barr’s other three adult children, her son-in-law, her ex-husband Bill and Bill’s new wife, Becky. Barr’s fifth child, 9-year-old Buck, and her 4-year-old grandson, Ethan, appear in the videos with her.

“Ethan’s got the ham thing,” she says affectionately, marveling how he’s already headstrong and opinionated, reminding her of herself as a child.

Full Moon is definitely a family business.

“This is my favorite part,” Barr says, her face blossoming with that familiar apple-cheek smile.

A sea monster more goofy than scary pops into the frame in the clever “Peanut Butter and Jelly Fish,” one of 12 animated and live-action stories on the DVD “Down on the Donut Farm,” due out in April. Though children’s videos seem like a huge leap from the crass and sass with which Roseanne is typically identified, it’s a project she’s yearned to do for some time. Circumstances -- including a hysterectomy in 2003 -- derailed other projects she had in the works, clearing the way for this one.

She loves to make children laugh, yet as with her stand-up comedy there’s also an underlying message. “One [segment] is about how to stand up to monsters,” she says. Another is about resisting the urge for excess; a third derides bullies.

The songs are melodious and the singing voice soothingly sweet -- and familiar.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Barr says.

She loves to sing, even though one of her most notorious public faux pas came during her rendition of the national anthem at a Padres-Reds baseball game in 1990.

“I intended to sing well; I let my fear strangle me,” she says of the situation she bumbled through, then tried to make light of. Any disrespect was unintentional, she says, “and I’ve paid a 10-year price for it.”

She’s since conquered her fear of singing in public and will sing in her stand-up act Saturday.

Fear -- and the hold it has on America -- is an issue she challenges in her show.

“I started to write this act after 9/11,” she says, motivated by the “eight rich guys” who head corporations that she believes “run every government on Earth.

“They keep us scared and it goes right in their pockets. My friends say I’m getting too paranoid.”

The irony, which seems frequently overlooked, is that “there’s nothing to fear because we’re all going to die,” she says matter-of-factly. “I know this sounds apocalyptic; maybe it’s my painkillers talking.”

Barr has no plans to take her show on the road, though she’s performed in Washington, New York, Philadelphia and Canada.

“I tried to emigrate there, but there’s really nowhere to go,” she deadpans. “When they drop the bomb it will probably seep into Canada too.”

In a bold and fearless finale to her show, Barr leads by example, using her talent for persuasion through shock and entertainment -- but we won’t give it away here.

On the whole, Barr is at peace with her life. She has a boyfriend of three years, “I see my kids every day, I’m singing, I’m over my fears,” she says. “Just in time for the world to blow.”

*

Roseanne Barr

‘Let the Healing Begin’

Where: Long Beach Center Theater, 300 E. Ocean Blvd., Long Beach

When: 8 p.m. Saturday

Price: $45 to $55

Contact: (562) 436-3661;

(213) 480-3232