Mom, if you’re reading this, maybe stop now. Actually, that goes for all moms and grandmas: beware. Controversial take ahead. Sister Patricia and Sister Paul, if you’re reading this too, just know you didn’t fail me — I failed you.
Alright, here goes: I am a fan of cursing.
Simply put, I’m pro-profanity. I’m not saying we should all walk around speaking like a seasoned sailor. But there is certainly a time and a place when it’s necessary to venture into the darker corners of the English language to properly communicate a sentiment.
“You know,” says the naughty-mouthed naysayer, pushing their glasses back up their nose, “cursing is actually a sign of intelligence.”
Now there’s a theory that, while it would certainly work in my favor, doesn’t hold much water.
I know plenty of — what’s the scientific term for them? — dopes who deserve to have their mouths power-washed with soap for the amount of profanity they let fly.
A sign of intelligence? There ought to be a maxim that anyone who uses that excuse to justify their love of expletives is displaying the exact opposite.
On the other side of the coin, those who thumb their noses at my opinion might argue that people who rely on profanity simply have deficient vocabularies. I suppose you’re welcome to make that assertion.
This whole line of thinking stems from my family’s newest addition.
When there’s a child around, things change. That includes acceptable vocabulary. My daughter can’t even say “Dada” yet, but there’s still something unsettling about her innocent little ears being subjected to the filth that occasionally escapes my mouth.
My wife, the sage of the spoken word that she is, gently reminds me whenever I even drift into the warning zone around our daughter.
I’m grateful for it.
The English language is a remarkable feat of human achievement. Without it, we would never have “The Canterbury Tales,” Shakespeare’s plays, “Ulysses,” “Animal Farm,” or this column. Those are listed in no particular order of literary importance.
That same English language, whether you like it or not, includes more than a few words that fall into a verboten category. Some because of their literal meaning, others because of little more than tradition and innuendo.
The very fact that those words have earned such infamous reputations means they convey something that nothing else quite can. Sure, you can usually express a similar idea in a less profane way, but rarely with the same emphasis.
Like almost everything else in this wonderful world, moderation is the answer. A time and a place.
When I’m with friends or family who share my appreciation for colorful language, I say let them fly.
When I’m in more polite company, I’ll dig deep into that supposedly deficient vocabulary and scrounge up another word or two that gets the job done.
The real challenge will come when someone asks for my thoughts on the New York Jets while my daughter is present. Not even Noah Webster himself possessed a vocabulary vast enough to navigate that situation without resorting to a few of the heavy hitters.
Did I really just write an entire column about profanity without using a single swear word?
Crap.
