“Language!”

Hey, this may be my first controversial post! WTF?

When my eldest child was just 13, we were going to watch an “inspirational” boxing movie. Before the first spoken words of the film, the song Beast was playing, a hype song on the boxer’s headphones, and the most predominant word was M-F’er. (That’s right, I’ll use abbreviations for aberrations in this post…get over it.)

Yup, we were going to watch Southpaw, yet even though I rented it, I pulled it from the DVD player and we watched something else.

It wasn’t just my 13 year old in the room, but also my 11 and 9 year old. And you know who else was in the room? Me.

First acknowledgement: In the context of a boxing movie, there’s no language that would be inappropriate, I suppose. Strong language for strong characters in trying circumstances…I get it. Language can lend authenticity, and in future viewings of that film, I find it jarring in its authenticity and impact. Language is no small part of that.

Two of my heroes, Larry and Steve, offer a strong case for authentic language in their Writer Dojo podcast, Season 4, Episode 10 Profanity.

However (first contention), I get weary from so much obscenity. There you go, not “strong language” or “profanity,” but call it like it is: obscene.

Here’s likely my thesis: the sliding scale of what’s deemed inappropriate just keeps sliding down the drain, so much so that even the most horrific of swears is now practically mundane. I give it another decade until the F-word is as dog-eared and silly as F-troop. What then? How do new “bad words” get invented? What worse words could come along?

Second acknowledgement: I am old. I’m like black and white movie old. My sense of morality predates MPAA ratings of 1968. My father didn’t swear much, and I only remember him using the F-word twice in my entire childhood. I get it: I’m antiquated, outdated, defunct as Buffalo Bill.

At times in my life, I’ve found obscenities to be jarring, distasteful, and hurtful. I know people who are made ill by a barrage of foul language. (I think they’re a little too sensitive, frankly. Butt hurt by bad words? I mean, c’mon!)

Embarrassing confession: I went through a phase when I used even more ridiculous substitutes for profanity.

My second contention, one that’s unfounded and not researched and highly subject to opinion, but hey it’s my blog…I’ve seen a parallel in acceptance of foul language and changes in (I’d offer “decline in”) many other values and systems of behavior. Bad language. Bad morals. Bad world. This is my perception, and it could be miles off.

But back to entertainment: Now, I like Pulp Fiction (and honestly most of Tarantino’s films, honestly). I like what I’d call “gritty” war movies, too, like Jarhead, where the script would be blackened out entirely if every bad word were redacted.

A more clever way of working around such words, without redaction or substitution with silliness like “kiss my grits” would be to employ the word “cuss” like employed in Fantastic Mr. Fox. By doing this, Wes Anderson makes the usage even more comical.

Honestly, I love our language. To me, there’s not a more flexible word than f*ck. If you doubt that, attend to George Carlin’s adroit tour de force monologue on the word, 7 words you cannot use on television… I used to screen it after class for those strong of mind who wanted to really understand the scope of language.

I also find the Netflix series, The History of Swear Words, to be interesting and enlightening. (This, in large part, due to the production value and the host, Nicolas Cage!)

Altogether, that’s like five concessions up there. I’m sharing that because I don’t want to be considered just a total prude.

In my writing to date, even though there’s murder, mayhem, fighting and war, there’s almost no questionable language. (Readers may question the language, I guess, for its absence of obscenities.)

This from an analysis of Future Fugitives, a report generated by Marlowe at Authors.AI.

In my life practice, I probably don’t swear on even a daily basis. There are instances and audiences when it’s more/less appropriate. <<This is what many people do not understand.

It’s not that I’m predisposed against it, even though I was raised in a more language-sensitive time and household.

It’s this: I pity profanity and its users. Those 7 words Carlin sites in 1978 are mostly in common parlance today.

When using the bazooka and wrecking ball all the time, there’s nothing left with any shock value. Those poor words have been losing their luster.

I have a son, now 19, who sounds silly to me, for his constant and lazy use (often misuse) of profanity. It’s like he’s trying on a suit that’s too large. It’s as if he’s learning these new words and where they best get the most bang for their buck…but, alas, they are not so impactful anymore.

Profanity makes me sigh.

I consider its usage to be mundane, lame, lazy. The language is so very rich with so many powerful words. Why settle for less?

My wife uses a ‘swear’ sometimes. It’s gritty and always gets a response out of me. She times its execution deliberately, skillfully dropping the word in at just the right moment to send me spiraling in agony. Her word? “Whatever.”

Now that hurts.