Since I titled this project “Important shit I can’t teach my son yet,” it’s time we talked about shit. Not the smelly kind, but the word itself and all it’s 4-letter friends. While I’ve touched on this topic by virtue of a sprinkling of f-bombs, we haven’t explicitly discussed profanity. If you guessed I’m for it, you are correct. But as with most things, in fucking moderation.
When used correctly, profanity is the hot sauce on your barbecue, adding the zing to any sentence. Hell yeah, right? But just like hot sauce, too much overpowers everything else and makes your ass burn the next day. Fuck that. To help you figure out how much hot sauce you like on your English language, here’s how I think about profanity, when you should use it, and when you shouldn’t.
Some people don’t swear, ever. Drop something on their foot and you might get a “dadgumit!” or even just a sad, pained look. Some people swear occasionally, but feel guilty about it. Drop something on their foot and you get a “shit!” followed by an apology. These two groups of people might tell you that profanity is “low-class,” makes you sound uneducated, or is even morally wrong. Hell, they might just not like it. Whatever their reasons, that’s okay for them. I’m not mad at them, but I think they’re missing out. It’s hard to beat the cathartic satisfaction and undeniable punch of a well-placed “fuck.”
There’s a third group that swears like a pirate with hemorrhoids on a bumpy ocean, all “fuck this” and “fuckety fuck that,” and “Arrrgh ye going to pass the fucking potatoes?” This level of profanity can be a bit much. Not because I find it offensive, but because when overused, profanity loses its punch. More on that in a bit.
Since I’m pretty sure you’re not a pirate, if you’re going to swear, you need to realize that just like every other word, profane words have meaning and power. As you choose when and how to use these words, you should know their meaning and more importantly, respect their power. “I had a bad day” doesn’t land like “I had a shitty day.” And “I had a shitty day” has nothing on “Fuck my day, it was a pile of dogshit.” As you ratchet up the profanity, you’re also making your day sound worse and worse, right?
Now, imagine you’ve got a pastor friend who never swears. Or at the least, hardly ever. The two of you meet at a bar after work one day and you ask, “how was your day?” Your pastor friend says, “shit,” and takes a long pull off their beer. See how that landed?
In contrast, imagine getting a beer with your friend the pirate, who swears all the time. His day could have been a “Clusterfuck of monumental fuckery bathed in barracuda shit and slathered in octopus tits and whale cocks,” and that might just be another Tuesday on the high seas.
Overusing profanity reduces its impact.
Swearing effectively and for maximum impact is a choice. And as someone who once chose words and rearranged them to sell things for a living, I’m telling you that choosing the right words is the difference between being ignored and being understood.
You don’t always get to choose, though. There will be places and times where profanity is so inappropriate, you just can’t use it. The next ten years of your life will mostly be one of these places. Children who use profanity generally get in trouble, and rightly so. You’re not ready. Consider profanity like chainsaws, coffee, and motor vehicles; there’s more power and risk than a three-year-old can manage. Someday you’ll be dropping f-bombs with the best of them, just not yet.
As for other places where you shouldn’t swear, part of choosing when to use profanity is knowing your audience. What offends one person won’t make another person blink, so you need to learn to read the room; Pirates expect you to swear. The ladies at an afternoon tea party might shoot Earl Grey out their noses if you so much as think about it.
Understanding other people’s expectations and preferences is part of being a good communicator. And I’m not saying you can’t make the tea party blush or disappoint the pirates. I am saying that you should be cognizant of how your audience will receive and interpret the words you use, and adjust accordingly for effect.
Side note. Watch George Carlin’s “7 dirty words,” circa 1972. Look it up and watch it. He included the bit in several comedy specials, so you should be able to find it on the internet without too much trouble, even in fifteen years or so. It’s worth seeking out for his insights on these types of words.
Back to my take. Ludwig Wittgenstein said, “words are deeds.” The words you choose are just another example of the way you carry yourself through the world. Just as the deeds you do reflect on who you are, so do the words you use. Let the words you choose match the story you want to tell about yourself and the ideas you want to communicate. If that story necessitates profanity, then choose those words. If it doesn’t, then maybe choose others.
But remember, words can hurt worse than a kick in the nuts and leave behind a scar that aches for years. Powerful words especially so, and four-letter words are weighty, powerful, and pack a punch. So before you tell someone to “go fuck yourself,” take a deep breath and think about how that’s going to land. Think about how that’s going to echo in their ears. Think about how the target of your profanity is going to feel.
And once again, this is where your Dad comes up short. I swear, I lose my temper, and sometimes, I lose my temper and swear. I sometimes use profanity because it’s quick to the tongue and I don’t want to take the time to think of a different word. And I’ve been known to tease a cheap laugh out of the most profane words I can think of.
These are not the things I want you to emulate, and so yet again, after writing one of these missives, I’m left feeling like I need to do better. So, I can promise you this: you’ll probably pick up a few four-letter words from your old man, but they won’t be shouted out a window at another driver, and I’ll never shout them at you. At least not until you’re a grown-ass man, at which point you should be able to shout right back.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.