Sarah Silverman draws a line in the sand when it comes to social taboos in her standup routine.

Which isn't to say she makes much of an effort at being politically correct. Instead, she kicks sand all over the line, hawks a loogie on it, gives it the finger and then leapfrogs over what is left of it on her way to ludicrous offensiveness.

Think of ways you can categorize humanity -- by race, ethnicity, sex, religion, age, sexual orientation -- and Silverman has done a bit on it that a reasonable person would deem offensive.

Yet her delivery is so calm, so unassuming, so innocent, that after the words are out and the gasps have turned into laughs -- nervous laughs, but laughs nonetheless -- the corner of her mouth draws slowly into a smile and it all seems almost OK that she just did an Asian joke. Or a black joke. Or a gay joke. Or a 9/11 joke. Or a Jesus joke.

But Silverman isn't all cold, calloused and insensitive. She has feelings, too.

"I guess my basic rule of thumb is, I don't like to be mean," Silverman said. "The intention (of my comedy) is for people to laugh, and if they're laughing at anyone in particular, it's me."

What offends her?

"I guess the basics," she said.

"Cruelty, inhumanity. One thing that bums me out, standup-wise, is when people videotape me with their phones and when I ask them to maybe stop, they keep doing it ... it feels super-violating. Yes, there are worse things in the world -- but in my tiny world, that's really offensive."

She's serious. You think. Then again, you're not sure.

Silverman has been doing standup for 20 years, but real notoriety first came her way in 2001. She got the world's attention when she used an ethnic slur for Asians on Conan O'Brien's show in a joke she claimed wasn't racist, but rather a joke about racism. She ruffled plenty of feathers with the comment, but it also put her fame on another plane.

Her standup movie, "Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic," came in 2005. Her own TV show, "The Sarah Silverman Program," followed in 2007 on Comedy Central. And earlier this year, she entered the next stratosphere of stardom when a song to then-boyfriend Jimmy Kimmel ran on his show. The song? "I'm (Bleeping) Matt Damon." The video has since been seen by roughly the entire planet on the Internet and got one of her three Emmy nominations this year.

To be certain, the 37-year-old's brand of comedy is not for the faint of heart -- most of it can't be printed in this paper. But she'll appear uncensored at The Venue at Horseshoe Casino in Hammond on Aug. 29, likely running new material she said she's been testing in New York at small comedy clubs and open mikes.

"That's the only way to really try new stuff," Silverman said.

"And it's a lot of failure. But you can't write new stuff and just try it in your living room -- you have to go on stage. So, it's a vulnerable feeling -- but that's the fun, too."

What? A moment of vulnerability and seriousness? Not for long. When asked what she might do if not for her life in comedy and TV and movies, she naturally misses not a beat.

"I would probably work with retarded adults," Silverman said. "I really, really love being around them."

And to think, that's one of the few responses we can (barely) print.