Argh! I would kind of like to get out and do fun things, especially as Halloween is around the corner. Check that: I would like to meet fun people, or rather, meet the kind of people with whom I became really great friends with in Pittsburgh (and Cleveland!) and THEN go do some fun things. As it is now, I don't know what I'd even do. Anyway, I'd like to get out in the world and sort of get my 20's started, you know, that decade where you (supposedly) make a name for yourself and have some fun too before you have kids and start living their lives.
But I'm sick! The heck of a cold kind of sick that's been with me for a week and a half now and shows no signs of going anywhere! Wellness Formula pills be damned! I'm so hydrated I feel like a fireplug, I'm sleeping 17 hours each night, and, uh, I'm not licking doorknobs. I mean, I'm supposed to be in good health, with an almost-perfect balance of eating healthily, sleeping enough, and exercising daily. What have I done wrong?
Well. Whining about how I'm sick, or how I'm bored because I'm sick, isn't going to get me anywhere. So instead, I'll talk about swear words.
Okay, point #1, what's the deal with swear words? You know, "shit" and "poo" and "feces" mean the same thing (as do "fuck" and "copulate") but you can say some of them and not others. Okay, yeah, it's silly that a certain combination of sounds is not okay to utter. Fine.
Let's just deal with the world-with-swear-words-in-it, instead of rallying for their demolition. (we can do that later, but it might accidentally take a lot of fun out of life.) The reason I started thinking about swear words is because my dad called me out on it, said he didn't know when I had gotten so vulgar. (ouch. when your dad says, semi-disappointedly, "I didn't know you had gotten so ___", where "___" is a bad quality, it hurts.) I got to thinking about it: why do I swear on my blog (and in real life)? And do I mind?
First question: why do I swear? Part of it is subconsciously to fit in-- nobody doesn't swear. Friends, acquaintances, coworkers, my boss. (as for the last, I've made sure to notice instances when he drops f-bombs casually in meetings-- he sure does. never angrily or anything, just "well, if this happens, we're fucked" or something like that.) Everyone swears. This is okay. As long as they don't mean it in a bad way, I don't care what words they use.
And the other part? Because I can, maybe? Like it or not, swear words are the last magic words we have; they give you the ability to instantly inspire a certain feeling. Is it crass or cheap? Maybe. Maybe if I were an eloquentman, I could toss out a polysyllabic zinger that meant "fuck" without actually saying "fuck." Maybe everyone would look at me like I was from the 1800's. Sure, if you overuse swearing, you sound dumb. But sometimes nothing fits the bill better than dropping your jaw, standing there a minute, and going "well, fuck me!" Sometimes it becomes a personal hallmark: I think I've created the phrases "balls dammit" and "are you fucking me?" (translation: are you joking?) and I love saying them both. Compound swears (cockbadger, crap-in-a-hat, my Moroccan friends' "shit fucking good food", etc.) are usually funny. And I don't think this makes me particularly juvenile. They're just a few more very powerful words in your ol' wordbag, and they should be pulled out if the scene (improv or no) calls for it.
Second question: do I mind? Do I think I should stop swearing? Nah. I don't even do it that much (maybe I do it more on this blog than in real life, because I get angry more in this blog than in real life, but even in the blog, I haven't cursed more than once or twice in as many weeks). Maybe it's a kinda lay-off thing: dear culture, let adults smoke pot if they want, let them have sex with whomever they choose however they choose (if it's safe)*, and don't tell us to stop swearing. So yeah, Dad, I don't want to be confrontational. I guess I'm just a little more freewheeling (west coast software engineer) than you were at my age (midwest lawyer). That's okay for both of us.
* hoo boy, thinking about this opened up another whole bag of fish.
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