The variety of swearing
Lets make this clear: everybody swears, yes some more than others – construction workers, the homies hangin on the corner, someone with tourettes syndrome, etc. and there are those who swear only occasionally. Anyone who maintains that not once has a bit of “bad” language passed their lips is full of shit; a lot of it. My mother doesn’t swear a lot for example, but she does. She hates the word “fuck” and I’ve been reprimanded for using it in conversation. However – when she really desperately needs to make a point…. you get the concept.
There is a scene in the movie “A Christmas Story” (Jean Shepard’s writing – some of the funniest stuff around) where the kids father is down in the basement wrestling with the coal furnace and you hear the equivalent of writing #?!!*$@+!##”~! ; just a bunch of double-talk nonsense for the PG rating. The narrator says something like: when it comes to swearing, my father worked with words the way a great artist uses oils or a sculptor works with clay; his medium was profanity.
Recently I have returned to working on a car – the mechanical side of me. It had lain dormant since high-school. While replacing a front brake wheel cylinder and having a bit of trouble, I was helping myself with encouraging strings of really, really bad words. It hit me right then that I was using a unique combination of expletives. I came to realize that I have “working on the MG” profanity. What a concept! and as I pondered it more, came to recognize that I have special situational language unique to a lot of activities. Think about it; it’s fun! Some examples: driving – choice phrases are used then and only then. Asshole is a prominent word; usually preceded by “you ought to be put to sleep”. Asshole is almost a pronoun. Usually it is used for men and often combined with “fucking” Women get bitch with fucking or goddamn, actually, more often with both words. Upon hearing something really annoying; something that is going to upset my plans, perhaps: Then I get spiritual. First comes a prolonged aawwww… followed by: jesus (I’m not too put out yet -or a simple shit, when I’m not religious) then it expands depending on the degree of annoyance – jesus christ; jesus fucking christ; goddamn fucking jesus christ – if it is worse than that then things get very creative, but somehow that jesus guy stays with me. I saw a painting of “The circumcision of the lord” and underneath the caption read “Really? He yelled out his own name?”
When I drop something or miss a note or some other small, isolated mistake, what comes out is very close to spitting. Just one word is enough; said very quickly and with heavy emphasis one the first letter: “shit” “fuck” etc. Akin to the sound of a race car passing by at very high speed. If the little mistake repeats itself then the ante is upped and from there on it gets progressively more creative.
Then there is the issue of volume. Those little one word bits are almost whispers at times, because the moment is fairly intimate and personal. To my great surprise and probably what led me to this epiphany, is that my “mechanics” profanity is extremely loud and violent and doesn’t go through the usual development section. Loud and unique. So loud that on occasion I have quickly looked to make sure that one of the cute neighborhood kids wasn’t lingering about. The string of words is completely baffling because I am dealing with both myself and a bunch of inanimate objects. It is really, really entertaining – almost as if someone has taken control of my voice.
So play the game: what language is used with each event and how do the circumstances alter the creative process? And to all of you who say that people who swear do so because they haven’t the capacity to express themselves any other way: “I’m extremely annoyed and quite beside myself, almost to the point of apoplexy because I can’t get this 3/4 inch spanner to even begin to budge this recalcitrant nut” – just doesn’t cut it. It is way too pleonastic. “goddamn fucking shit” is elegant and to the point of the matter. So eat shit and die mother fucker.
The Joy of Swearing
There are those who say that the use of gratuitous profanity is symptomatic of weak powers of expression, laziness, poor self-discipline. Well you know what? I happen to enjoy swearing. Some argue that the promiscuous use of our friend the F-word, for example, diminishes its expressive power. Well guess what: that’s one fucking trade-off I can live with.
Prisoner abuse scandal: This is getting kinky and surreal
Our Senators have been looking at revolting sado-porn images of US military and mercenary personnel abusing Iraqi prisonerss, and they are telling us how disturbing this is.
What, and we don’t get to see? Come on. We like to look at sick shit too, ya know. Can I get a little democracy and transparency in this fucking place?
speaking of the Sopranos….
I predict that Johnny Sac will crush that malapropism-using, pretentious prick Little Carmine.
I predict something bad is gonna happen to our good friend, that homocidal genius, the erudite murderer, that clever assassin and would-be massage therapist known as Tony B. I think Johnny Sac might take his revenge on him for wacking Joey Peeps, and tell Tony S to just deal with it.
Oddities of Product Placement
If you were Snapple, would you want to have an empty bottle from one of your products smashed into someone’s face on the Sopranos? Seems to me that smashing people’s faces with a bottle is kind of negative.
Then again, what do I know about marketing. Perhaps they’re thrilled to get their brand in front of those eyeballs regardless of the context
Deadwood: A New Drinking Game
Required equipment: whiskey, a TV, and an episode of Deadwood.
Number of players: a minimum of one.
Rules: Play begins when the Deadwood episode starts. Every time a character on the program does a shot, players are required to do a shot. Last player standing is deemed the winner.
We’ll miss ya, Bob Edwards
I know I wasn’t the only one who got a little teary when Bob said his goodbyes.
On literally thousands of mornings I’ve stood there trying to cut through the fog, pondering my coffee, my day, my life, and listening to Bob and to whomever he was interviewing. And I have almost invariably enjoyed listening. There’s something about his voice, his style, his technique, and the workings of his intelligence that make you genuinely like the guy. Or at least, you’re sure you would if you knew him personally. It seems inconceivable that the man is an asshole in real life.
I should note that I am not unconditionally in love with NPR. They often provoke my more-radical-than-thou leftist wrath with their pussy-liberal establishment optic and spin. But still I’m a habitual listener.
Let us digress. Because I live where I do, a real lefty radio alternative is available: WBAI. Problem is, their production quality and indeed their content is often just too shitty, and I lose patience. I recall one morning turning them on and hearing some guy chanting and playing bongoes. When he was done, the host of the show was like, thank you man that was really good. Guess what: no it wasn’t. It sucked. Then came a woman reading dreadful poetry in a 1960s jive voice that was supposed to make us think she was cool. That’s when I said fuck this I’m outa here, I’d rather listen to white males discuss the stock market.
Back to the matter at hand: you did a helluva job, Bob Edwards. We’ll miss you buddy.
unspeakable
The good Professor’s observation that we, with some shame, hope for the US invading forces to get slaughtered to somehow prove or comment on, the immorality of the current administrations foolish enterprise, is well taken.
It was very disappointing when it became clear that the Iraqis didn’t have some weapon – a smallish thermonuclear device or the plague – that they could unleash and not only take out the invading forces but with strong prevailing winds, take out a big chunk of humanity. That would have been grand entertainment. News at eleven!! Stay tuned!! The idea of rooting for the other team creates a bit of cognitive dissonance.
But our “team” – the cheney/rummy/dubya,etc. cocksuckers – well; they aren’t our team, now are they? And I’m not so sure about the spineless democrats either. They have caved in to the simple minded school-yard trick of using generally accepted platitudes to be defeated and silenced. Aren’t you a good patriot? Don’t you love the good ole USA? Why are you sitting on the visitors side of the gym? Where is your flag and why isn’t it on display? You must not support our troops!
We watch car races in hopes of a really good crash and when it happens, it is on the news, in slo-mo, over and over again. I watch and any cocksucker who says they don’t, is a pile of fermented horse shit lyin jack-off. It is our nature. We are curious about such things. (a brief aside: if you want to indulge your curiousity about the look of human carnage, accidents, self-inflicted gun shot wounds, etc, go to rotten.com – this is a Vernon T. Bludgeon approved site)
Back to the subject at hand – Iraq. People are getting killed. You read it here first. Why should I feel more remorse at the loss of an american as opposed to an Iraqi? And why the fuck should we give huge coverage to the death of an ex-football player who gave up his multi-mil contract to play soldier. Why him? I want to know about the poor child who found a bit of hope by joining the army to get a step up. The press seems enamored of the fact that he gave up the money as if that makes him an even bigger hero. He chose his way to die; his right and privledge. If he had given up the money and then committed suicide would we still think highly of him? Oh yes – he died for a good cause. Bullshit. He died for a stupid ridiculous invasion of another country by our nascent dictatorship. If he thought that he was fighting for the “homeland” (why didn’t they just call it the fatherland?) or to bring democracy to a region that couldn’t give a shit about democracy, then he did committ suicide. Or was monumentally stupid or read too many G.I Joe comics as a child. I read a lot of Dr. Squirm Finger the Proctologist comics when I was young but you don’t see me signing up to exam sphincters do you?
We don’t want anyone to die and we certainly don’t want to belong to a club that sends children off to kill people and get killed just for the club leadership’s amusement. Hussein gassed his “own” people. Yeah? So we are noble and order the deaths of our own people by invading another country? And when things are going badly and it is obvious that we shouldn’t have ever done this, we send more kids off to the machine? Rather than admitting our folly and withdrawing?
rant, rant, rant. I need to relax so I’m going to a calming, inspirational movie – the one where they beat the shit out of jesus. Now that is what it is all about. A good wholesome sense of what the world should aspire to. Violence with a message?
speaking the unspeakable about US casualties
I remember reading somewhere in Howard Zinn’s history of the US that in the run-up to the Mexican war, a shameless imperial land grab if ever there was one, there was ferocious opposition to the war. An American newspaper editorial of the time said, in substance, we deplore bloodshed and violence, but this is inexcusable, and if someone’s blood has to be shed, let it be the blood of the invading American forces. Let them be defeated and turned back in complete disgrace. Can you believe they actually published this? Nowadays everyone who thinks this way keeps his mouth shut about it.
Everyone except your servant Professor B, that is. Whenever US soldier or private sector mercenary comes home from Iraq in a body bag, I feel immense sympathy for the families and friends of these people. But on an a purely, heartlessly military and political level, I don’t feel a bit sorry for the invaders, nor for the employees of profiteering corporations, who end up getting wacked. In fact I route for the resistance. The US has no business there, and never did, and should get the hell out now, and beg the UN on hands and knees to step in, and offer to pay the bills. Cut military spending in half and use some of the savings to rebuild the place and pay reparations.