a semi-regular column of Truths, Half Truths, and Mostly Truths by Semi.
Volume I, Issue 16 · posted July 1, 2001
Picture this scenario:
It is my five-year-old's birthday party, there are a dozen or more screaming and laughing kids running around our backyard deck, my wife is methodically cutting pieces of cake and quickly handing them out, while another mother is just as rapidly handing out forks and napkins. I, too, get a piece of birthday cake thrust at me, then the woman who is handing out the utensils asks "Do you need a fork'n napkin?"
So naturally I reply, in my best Joe Pesci voice, "Ey, I don't need no fork'n napkin! Do I look like I need a fork'n napkin? You can keep your fork'n napkin!"
She responded with "you gonna take the fork'n napkin or what?", and within seconds, there was a group of adults all waving their arms and declaring "You take the fork'n napkin … No, you take the fork'n napkin!"
As funny as this may have been, it was obviously also a profoundly bad idea to do this in front of a group of kindergarteners; fortunately, most of the kids were distracted by my son, who was busy whacking his piñata ("badda-boom!").
As a father of three, I am constantly reminding my kinds that "potty language" is not acceptable. Still, I know that to them, scatology makes for easy humor. Words like "peepee" and "poopy" don't make for titillating cocktail chatter, but it absolutely cracks the kids up every time.
(Equally hilarious alternatives: doody, doodoo, poopoo, weewee, peewee, ca-ca, and Cheney.)
Of course, children are obsessed with defecation and urination; it is a focal point of their lives and they learn very early on that it is something unclean and uncouth. They also learn that there is no better showstopper than to announce in a loud voice to a roomful of adults "I just made a poopy!"
We sophisticated adults, of course, don't share the same obsessions. We just joke about F*cking…
…
That got your attention, didn't it!
We're like little kids that way: there are certain subjects that still make us skip a beat, and certain words regarding certain subjects that are frequent showstoppers.
Like F*ck. Strictly an adults-only word, 'cause if we say that in front of the kids, you can be d*mn sure they'll say it back to us!
(Okay, so right about now you're probably wondering "what the F*ck is he doing? Is there some kind of F*cking obscenity filter here?". Actually, I'm just trying to make a point. Stay with me on this one…)
I heard a story a few years back that is probably apocryphal, but I'll repeat it anyway. This was told to me by a friend who worked for one of the big comic book publishers in New York.
For one of their super-hero team books, a writer created a new character named Flicker. This was a mysterious new entity who would disappear and reappear spontaneously just out of one's field of vision, and by his behavior you could not tell if he was a hero or a villain. Flicker was appearing just sporadically in a monthly title, and little was known about him, which was the writer's intent. One day, several months after introducing the new character, the writer was called into a meeting with the Editor of the title. As I was told the story, their conversation went something like this:
EDITOR: We got a little problem here. I just received a letter from an incensed mother who says she can't believe that we're using such filthy language in our comic book.
WRITER: What filthy language?
EDITOR: Well, to someone with poor vision, the L and the I in Flicker sort of run together and look like a U…
WRITER: Oh for the love of Mike (or something like that, you know how we writers talk) this guy isn't running around calling himself F*cker…!
EDITOR: Still, if you squint your eyes, you can kinda see it. Maybe we can just change his name…
WRITER: You can't change his name! It's part of his character … he's silent and mysterious and he flickers in and out of view, like a candle or an old-time movie projector. What are we supposed to call him? Flick-Man? Super-Flick? The Incredible Flick…? This woman is going to see whatever she wants to see.
EDITOR: Maybe you could have the other characters in the story just not call him by that name.
WRITER: Oh sure, they could just refer to him as "that-guy-who-flicks". Nobody will misread that…
EDITOR: How about a first name?
WRITER: What, like Ralph or something? "The silent and mysterious Ralph Flicker…"
EDITOR: Look, just give him a first name and we'll slip it in there so the other characters can call him that instead of "Flicker" all the time.
So the writer went home, thought it over, and returned a few days later with a fresh manuscript and a first name for the controversial character...
"Clint".
As regular readers of this column already know, I am fascinated by words. To me, language is like music and should be employed gracefully and thoughtfully and with precision and understanding. The English language is a rich cornucopia of words and meanings, and to misuse words is an abuse. Don't say "literally", for example, unless you literally mean "literally". (I saw this on the TV news recently, a witness to some tragedy was being interviewed and he said something on the order of "when I saw what happened, I was literally torn apart." The news reporter failed to explain how, after being torn apart, the witness had so miraculously recovered…).
Just as I feel it is important to use use proper words properly, I feel that one should strive to use improper words properly.
By "improper", you might by now realize, I am referring to indelicate language. Like F*ck. Simply put, if one is going to speak indecently, one should do so with a sense of decency.
In my college days (the late 70's, though perhaps it is as common now), I could scarcely find a setting in which my peers did not use the vulgar vernacular. I operate in the business world now, and such earthiness is less frequent.
This is a good thing. Just as it is important not to overuse florid language, lest one sound baroque, so is it important to moderate ones use of the blue idiom.
Or, as a colleague of mine once so colorfully put it "I might say to my friends `Get the F*ck oughtta here´, but I'm not going to sit down to dinner at home and say `Hey Grandma, pass me the F*cking salt´..."
Precisely.
Such is the power of language that, as our culture becomes increasingly inured to what was once shunned as lewd, there are still certain barriers that remain inviolate. Should you ever care to watch one of the endless music video channels on cable TV (and I highly recommend that you do not), you will see every conceivable inch of the human anatomy being groped and gyrated, but "dirty words" are still "bleeped out". Reporters of the news (note that I do not use the term Journalists) are allowed to discuss the lurid transgressions of our celebrity athletes and elected officials in vivid detail, but those selfsame lawmakers and politicians are not allowed to explicitly vent their mutual antipathy using open obscenities.
(Wouldn't that be great, though? Imagine the scenario during the last campaign debates...
JIM LEHRER: Vice-president Gore, how do you respond to Governor Bush's repeated assertion that you will "say anything to elected"?
GORE: Jim, I think this characterization shows just how desperate the Republicans are to hide the fact that they are running a campaign of sound bites. If I may address the governor directly, I'd like to provide a few sound bites of my own … F*ck you, Bush-baby! F*ck you and the f*cking horse you rode in on. You're so full of sh*t that you f*cking smell like your own g*dd*mn cattle ranch. Come over here and bite my *ss, you little p*ss hole! … Jim, I yield the remainder of my time to the sh*thead from Texas...)
Curse words do have value, but only when they are used sparingly. While in New York, I worked in a bookstore with a fellow that we all commonly referred to as "F*cking Tom" because of his profuse application of that particular epithet. A typical conversation might sound like this:
MANAGER: Hey, F*cking Tom, did you finish packing up the books for return?
F*CKING TOM: Yeah, I grabbed all the f*cking books that were on the f*cking return shelf and f*cking filled all the f*cking boxes I could find and put all the f*cking labels on them. They're f*cking ready to go!
MANAGER: Great, you wanna take f*cking lunch now?
F*CKING TOM: F*ck yeah!
The problem with this approach, of course, is that such intemperate use of obscenities robs them of their shock value. That is the true worth of such language, and why it should be used only in moderation.
What holds true in conversation applies equally well to writing. For this article, I have chosen to sprinkle the text liberally with allusions to the forbidden "F-word". My hope is to achieve a measure of the shock effect by tweaking your sensibilities, and still retain the humor. Too much, and we become insensate.
Also, my mom subscribes to this column.
In the July 2001 issue of American Prospect, writer Leah Platt notes that the so-called Thesaurus built into Microsoft Word© lists only "safe" alternatives to titillating words. If you wish to find synonyms for intercourse, for example, the only suggestions offered come under the category of contact: such as communication, interaction, and association. Want a synonym for erection? Try assembly, manufacture, production, formation, or composition.
I tried this little exercise myself and, even more telling, I found many lurid words that listed no synonyms, just suggested replacements. Some examples:
ASS — suggested replacement: aspiration.
BONER — suggested replacement: bonbon.
BREASTS — suggested replacement: breakthroughs.
CARNAL — suggested replacements: caring, caricature,
or carpe diem (refreshingly, carpe
diem does have a list of synonyms, including grab the chance, make the most of it,
and make hay while the sun shines, all of which, in this context, might
be seen as possessing carnal overtones).
COPULATE — suggested replacements: cordial, copious,
or cope with.
DEFLOWER — suggested replacement: defraud.
DICK — suggested replacement: dictator.
EROTIC — suggested replacement: erratic.
FORNICATION — suggested replacement: form ranks.
G-SPOT — suggested replacement: guttural.
HORNY — suggested replacements: horizontal, horn of plenty,
or hopping mad.
LABIA — suggested replacement: lab coat.
ORGASM — suggested replacements: orifice, original price,
or organizer.
PENIS — suggested replacements: penitence, penniless,
or (ouch!) pencil set.
SCROTUM — suggested replacement: scribbling pad.
SEXUAL — suggested replacements: shackle, sew a patch onto,
or shabbily.
TITILLATING — suggested replacement: tireless.
VAGINA — suggested replacements: vagabond, vainglorious,
or vaccinations (presumably
necessary after one has substituted penis with pencil set).
In her article, Ms. Platt accuses Microsoft of "whitewashing" colorful language due to it's "Corporate interest in promoting a family-friendly image". Without debating the merits of that assertion, I see in this phenomenon an opportunity to return some decorum to popular writing. As I have previously posited, overuse of explicit language causes one to become inured to it. Imagine the challenge, however, if a writer of romance novels were to craft a story using only suggestive terms, or at least those suggested by Microsoft's Thesaurus...
As Lydia Swallower entered the lab, she saw Dr. Cummings leaping erratically from one microscope to another, pulsing with tireless energy and emitting strange, guttural sounds. For a moment she wondered if he was hopping mad.
When at last he noticed her, he threw open his arms and screamed "Miss Swallower, I'm so glad you're here, for I've discovered an amazing set of breakthroughs!"
Lydia was startled; she'd never seen her mentor behave like this before. "Why Dr. Cummings, you've been here all night and I'll bet you haven't even had a thing to eat." She pulled something from her lab coat. "I was saving this for later, but I could give you a bonbon."
He smiled at her. "My dear", he said softly. "I know you've often thought of me as an old dictator, but you and I have always had big aspirations. I think it's time we form ranks."
She stared into his eyes, which seemed genuine and caring. He had treated her so shabbily before; despite their many years of working together, he seemed only ever to think of her as a vagabond. Was he now trying to defraud her?
"I can't" she said. "Not now. Maybe in a few days. " She reached deep into her lab coat, hoping to find her organizer and something to write with.
Dr. Cummings pulled out his scribbling pad and handed her something shiny and smooth. "Here," he said. "Use my pencil set."
"His pencil set?", thought Lydia. "He never lets anyone use his precious pencil set...!". Certain now that she could cope with his penitence, she unlocked her organizer...
'Ey, wadda you fork'n think? email me
While researching this column (what, you think I just make all this stuff up?), I came across a wonderful little book called The F-Word. Edited by Jesse Sheidlower, Senior Editor in the Random House Reference Department, this is an amazingly scholarly consideration of the most infamous word in the English language.
Mr. Sheidlower is a lexicographer and he approaches his subject with professional verve and a twinkle in his eye. One might think that there is little room on one's reference shelf for a work entirely devoted to words that begin with the letter F, but it is a surprisingly entertaining and impressive examination of one of the more colorful threads of our language. Also, at only $12.95, it is worth it just to read the side-splitting foreword written by Roy Blount Jr. Trust me, it isn't likely to be reprinted anywhere else!
For the innately curious, the link below will take you to a picture of yours truly enjoying The F-Word (while there, should you choose to do so, you can on vote whether I am "Hot or Not"...)
http://www.hotornot.com/r/?eid=EMOMSQ&key=VBD
As usual, all definitions have been liberated from Dictionary.com. This week's words are all "f-words"...
fuddy-duddy, n., an old-fashioned, fussy person.
fudge, 1. n., a soft rich candy made of chocolate; nonsense, humbug. 2. v. tr., to fake or falsify; to evade or dodge. 3. v. intr., to act in an indecisive manner; to go beyond the proper limits of something.
fug, n., a heavy, stale atmosphere, especially the musty air of an overcrowded or poorly ventilated room.
fugue, n., a dreamlike state of altered consciousness that may last for hours or days; a musical form consisting of a theme repeated a fifth above or a fourth below its first statement.
funk, 1. n., a state of cowardly fright, a panic; a state of severe depression; a cowardly, fearful person. 2. v. tr., to shrink from in fright or dread; to be afraid of. 3. v. intr., to shrink in fright.
What can I say about Uncle Ernie? Well, for one, he doesn't hesitate to use the "F-Word". He is a tie-dyed-in-the-wool, unapologetic hippy radical who has found a new home for his revolutionary thoughts on the internet. He writes a weekly "Issues and Alibis" column on Fridays that is a real hoot. Keep your sense of humor and you won't be offended. Check him out at:
"I never dare to write as funny as I can."
—
Oliver Wendell Holmes
All Contents (except the stuff I stole) Copyright © 2001 S.M.
McCord.
Redistribution allowed, provided you cite http://www.semitrue.com.